Donnie Brasco

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Donnie Brasco Page 37

by Joseph Pistone


  Jerry Chilli was a made guy under Alphonse “Sonny Red” Indelicato, a captain in the opposition faction. Chilli was a New Yorker who did a lot of business in Miami.

  “The gimmick is, while you’re laying lax, they got Rocky down with three witnesses, heavyweights. They scared him—you know, you put a gun to a guy’s head, right? You’re involved in a lot of heavyweights. I’m going right to the top with it. There’s a lot of feuds going on. It has to go to the guy in Lewisburg, understand?”

  The guy in the Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, federal penitentiary was Bonanno boss Rusty Rastelli. “Yeah.”

  “Rusty will hear about it for one reason, because I made Joey Massino a witness. I made Mirra take water. I’m in trouble with the zips today because I defied them. And I’m gonna pay for it. Because of my friend Donnie sitting on his ass out in Miami—and don’t say different—about broads and shit like that, fine. Everybody likes to enjoy themselves. You’re young, but you got a lax habit. Big fucking man. You’re a big shit. You’re busy getting the wrinkles out of your stomach. You don’t even wanna work. Bookmaking ditto. You don’t wanna do nothing, Donnie. You wanna be a playboy. This is what you wanted it to come to?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You broke Tony in to that there. When I tell Tony I’m coming out, my plane ticket’s supposed to be paid like they always was. When Tony got lax and you got lax, you thought Sonny was more important that I am.”

  “I never thought—”

  “If you can’t admit, just keep your mouth shut. You think I’m easy? How come you walk a chalk line with Sonny Black but you don’t walk it with me? Get off your fucking ass. See, Donnie, I’m gonna say it once and ain’t gonna say it no more. You come at me a couple times. You don’t even realize when you come at me.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You got one more strike with you. Not that I’m gonna hurt you. But I hold everything against. Like,

  ‘Get your own bag’ or something like that. When I walk in that town and I drop a suitcase, pick it up.“

  “Okay. How does Sonny stand tonight?”

  “He’s not giving you up, but he’s not on your side. In other words, anything happens, I take the weight. Why ain’t you blowing your top, why ain’t you mad at Rocky?”

  “I am.” I was. I should never have brought Rocky in. I bent my rules to do a favor, because I didn’t know Rocky. Now it was haunting me and I wanted to strangle him.

  “One guy’s gonna check both of youse out.”

  “Hey, Left, you know they got no problem checking me out.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. If you did something wrong in life, it’s for me to handle. Mirra cannot handle it. Sonny knows what he’s doing. See what you did by being lax? There’s no stopping here. The boss, the main guy in our family, had to sit down, and he can’t straighten it out. Donnie, you told me you put Rocky there, and these things are gonna come out. You got anything fucking hidden?”

  “I got nothing like that.”

  “Just promise me one thing. From here on in and to the longest day you live, you swear on yourself that you’ll always abide my rules.”

  “I swear on anything, Left.”

  “Now. Will you face the guy?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t know if I can pull it off, because we’re fucking around with legitimate people now. If I can get Rocky down, you’ll go along with the program?”

  “That’s right.” I was making a risky move. “Legitimate people” were made guys. I wanted to attend a sitdown, which is restricted to made guys. I didn’t want to face Rocky because I didn’t know how jammed up he might be and what he might say, how much that might endanger us both. But I gambled that Mirra wouldn’t produce Rocky at a sitdown. “Why should I be the fall guy?”

  “Tell me now, because you’re in Florida. If you got any fucking faults, go where the fuck you gotta go.”

  “I don’t have any, Left.”

  “Who owns the company, Donnie? How come you backed away from the situation? Who put the fucking operation together? Donnie, you can’t stutter there. You put him there. I can’t lie to my people. If I gotta die over it, go down like a man. They gonna throw curves at you.”

  “Any curves they throw, Left, I’ll be able to hit them. We get at the table and I’ll prove to you that Rocky lied.”

  “Anthony Mirra says he knew him five years. I said, ‘No, you’re a fucking liar. We brought him from Miami.’ Now you’re on the table. Now I have to get off. They’re gonna ask you these questions. I’m not gonna be there to defend you. First thing they’re gonna ask: Who brought him into Miami? You did. Who brought him into this town up here? How did the operation start? Let me tell you something, Donnie. We got friends in that town. We can find everything out. That’s what it’ll come to, but I don’t wanna prolong it. Why did Rocky give you up?”

  “He’s scared.”

  “Donnie. I know you like a book. I know every fucking move you make. I could tell you words from Milwaukee, word for word. See, everybody underestimates me. I know how lazy you are or how original you are. But now you’re up in a different fucking category. You’re into something that’s beyond our reach. This fucking thing is exploding. And don’t forget we’re fooling around with zips. They’ll keep on pecking. Greaseballs are motherfuckers. When a zip kisses, forget about it. They hate the American people. They hate the American wiseguys. I blew my fucking top, they hold it against me. You, they’ll chew you up in a fucking minute. They got us in a barrel over Rocky and you. That’s why Sonny Black wants me to give up Rocky. He feels it’s shaky. He wants peace and he wants a compromise. This is why Sonny don’t want you to come in, because you can’t answer.

  “If you get caught on the table, we’re gonna lose. You ain’t got the right answers. You ain’t got the mentality. You got the brain, but you’re gonna get hit with things. Once you stutter, they don’t say nothing. They’ll let you talk. Donnie, you got a headache. You can’t answer these questions. You could tell it to Sonny, but when you get on the table and they throw curves at you, you’re not gonna answer them.”

  “I’ll hit the curves.”

  “You’re not gonna hit no curves. You see, we got this Rocky on the table, right? Now, when he knows he’s coming to see anybody, he’s gonna bring everything out. So before he brings out about me being on a fucking boat, I have to tell everybody everything. I get sent for and they say it’s a federal boat—what am I gonna say? I can’t answer these questions without jeopardizing you, that you’re a fucking sucker. They got me by the balls. They got you by the balls. You were on the fucking federal boat. But answer one fucking motherfucking question. How did you get this fucking jerk-off from the fucking boat to the fucking car shop?”

  “Le-Le-Lefty, I told you—”

  “Take your time. There’s something wrong here.”

  “You ever think that Mirra’s a rat? I’d say he’s a stool pigeon, he made a deal with somebody.”

  “No, no, you can’t say that, because if you call a guy like that a pigeon, you gotta back your words up or you’re dead. He is nothing but a fucking rat. But could you call a wiseguy a rat? You can’t answer that the way I want to. But I could, when I get through. So now I’m getting all the proof. I’m reaching out. Sonny don’t even know what I’m doing. The guy I got, half the FBI can’t hide nothing from him. I’ll get all the bill of particulars. Because somebody’s sticking Rocky up. They’re taking his wallet. That’s going to my friends. You I know about, your numbers on your American Express and everything. Tony in Milwaukee, I got his through Mike Sabella. I hope to God everything comes aboveboard. I’m gonna use my head while he’s partying up all night tonight. They lied on the table today. The man that lies on the table has to die. But that’s beside the point. I’m talking about something serious. I met the guy on the boat. Where’d the boat come from? I have to show them the fucking picture. What are they gonna do? That’s what it’s gonna come to.”

&n
bsp; “I still don’t see how you say that’s the federal boat.”

  “Donnie, I got pictures of it. What are you, crazy or what? I took pictures all over the boat. I go further. I’ll get everybody’s picture on that fucking boat. You want me to go further than that there? I can get it in a fucking week. I’ll give you the fucking name of the stool pigeon.”

  “Well, let’s go after him. Go to the table and call them liars.”

  “You can’t call them liars. Donnie, you’re involved with fourteen heavyweights now, going on for two weeks.”

  “I go with that guy, I walk, Left. I tell you that now.”

  “Ain’t the question you walk. Over here I ain’t got the right answers. I ain’t got the right satisfaction with you.”

  “Why don’t we just kill Mirra, that’s all. Get it outa the way.”

  “No, no, we don’t do that to friends.”

  “That’s what he’s trying to do to us.”

  “That’s all right. He’s doing that legally. Now I’ll leave it up to Sonny what he wants to do. I’ll get back to you.”

  “All right.”

  “It won’t be now. Maybe a week from now.”

  When I hung up, I felt isolated. I didn’t know what Mirra was going to do. I didn’t know what Rocky was going to do. I couldn’t go to New York. I had to wait it out.

  Lefty called an hour later. His voice was very subdued, resigned.

  “I just want you to understand that I feel I’m doing the right thing, so I thought I’d give you a call back. Only wish you could give me the right answers.”

  “Left, the only answers I give you are the truth.”

  “Like I say, they’ll eat us up on the table. You made some fucking boo-boo, pal. You got me sick over it. The trouble we’re having amongst ourselves. I tell you, Donnie, you don’t make too many mistakes, but when you do, you start a fucking World War III. I gotta let it come to a head for one reason: I want this motherfucker. I want him bad. I want both of them bad. Somebody gotta pay the consequences. I didn’t call you to worry you. I only called you for one fucking reason: to think and help me win this fucking war. Get your fucking bearings together and think. Put your head to the grindstone. I’m writing everything down and racking my brains out. I want to understand what’s going on.”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Donnie, once we get that thing straightened out, we open a legitimate business. Jesus Christ ain’t gonna touch you. The motherfucking cocksucker.”

  “That’s right. That no-good bastard. Left, what I’d like to do is really make a score and jam it up his ass.”

  “I tell you one thing, Donnie, the most hated guy on Prince Street is Mirra. So we’ll just see till Rusty comes home. But whether we can survive these fucking sixteen fucking months, which them bosses say no wars allowed, I don’t know. First guy fucks with a pistol, they’ll break up the whole crew.”

  “That right?”

  “They’ll break it all up, dissolve it. All right, go to sleep. Don’t worry about it.”

  18

  THE HITS

  There was no quick resolution to the sitdowns. I just had to stay cool and wait, for days, weeks.

  Lefty came down to Holiday, and Rossi and I were driving him to Miami, where he needed to talk to some people.

  “I wanna get rid of all the old men,” he says. “They can’t do us no good. They’re eighty years old. They don’t wanna be bothered. Sonny tells me to call them to come to fucking wakes. Leave these people alone. You can’t retire them. It’s no good. Because they lose their prestige. We’re stuck with them.”

  Lefty had been made an acting captain by Sonny, and he was sizing things up in the family. I tried to pump him a little on personnel. “Jerry Chilli’s on the side with Caesar and them, right?”

  “Both brothers are on the other side,” he says, meaning both Joe and Jerry Chilli.

  “Who’s his skipper, who’s he with?”

  “He’s with Sonny Red’s man, Trinny,” he says, indicating rival captains Alphonse “Sonny Red” Indelicato and Dominick “Big Trin” Trinchera. “One’s kicking back to Trinny a G-note a week. The other one is kicking back three grand. That’s why they got power, them two guys. Those brothers are making a ton of money. We ain’t making it because we gotta walk the chalk line. This is what we’re told.”

  “Joey Massino still got the coffee trucks?”

  “Yeah. Joe Massino’s got good men. They all love me. We grew up together and hung out together. He knows where the strength is.”

  “Joey goes to visit Rusty, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah, he’s gotta go see him. He doesn’t know what’s going on with Mirra. He can’t butt in. When Joe Massino goes up there in a couple of weeks, he’ll tell him.”

  “Well, Sonny’s gonna do the right thing. I don’t think anybody’s gonna fuck over Sonny.”

  He ranted for a while about Mirra.

  I say, “Well, he’s not gonna go against you one on one, you know that.”

  “Ain’t a fucking man in New York City would go up against me one on one, because I would do it cowboy-style, right on South Street, one block walking at each other. How many pistols you want? Two? Let’s walk up against each other. One of us got to fucking die, or both of us die. That’s what I would do. I wouldn’t give a fuck, and don’t forget it. I’ll stay with Sonny and show honor.”

  “Well, Rusty knows that.”

  “Hey, let me tell you something. We were fighting a war, the Bonnanos. Rusty’s my chauffeur. Because you know what kind of a fucking man I was, and he was the fucking underboss. And he had to listen to me while he was driving the car: ‘Rusty, cut over here ... leave my fucking window open.’ He was a good wheelman.”

  But Rusty was a tough boss, Lefty went on. During a war Rusty was in Canada, and he called Lefty and ordered him to come up. He didn’t even tell Lefty where he was, just where to go.

  “I had four small kids. ‘Go pack a grip,’ he says. So I go pack a grip. Get on the fucking plane. Two pistols. Go to Canada, order a room. He says, ‘I’m gonna meet three guys on that corner. Don’t take your eyes off them. If anything happens to me, go all the way. Cops on the corner, blow them away.’

  “Six fucking weeks he’s got me out there. You’re not allowed to make a phone call to your family. Good thing I had an ex-wife then who understood, never asked questions what happened to me or anything like that. Six fucking weeks. Now, I taught my new wife, Louise; ‘Look, anything happens, you don’t see me come in, don’t you yell for anybody—he just didn’t come home, you don’t know nothing.’ I says, ‘You wanna cry, it’s your fucking business. Don’t ask anybody on the corner where I’m at or question my sister. Just say, ’He didn’t come home—this is what my husband told me to say and these are his orders, and that’s it.‘ ”

  “Rusty knows what we got down here, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. He knows everything. That’s the trouble. They all know it.”

  “Donnie, listen to me carefully,” Lefty says. It was Saturday night, April 11, and I had placed my regular call. “The car. Your friend’s car. Meet me in Fort Lauderdale tomorrow.”

  “Why, what’s the matter?”

  “Why don’t you just listen? Because I can cancel you out right now. I want you to come in alone. I don’t know what name I’m going under. I’m gonna come in with some people. Could you get that car?”

  That was Rossi’s four-door Lincoln. “I guess so, why?”

  “Donnie, don’t say, ‘I guess so, why?’ Just say yes and you meet me in Lauderdale.”

  “Of course I can get it.”

  “I could use Spaghetti. But my friend and I want you. I’m trying to get in touch with Nick, because we cannot go in cold. I gotta go into that hotel for one day, and then we’ll take it from there. Okay?”

  “All right.” Nick was the manager at the Deauville Hotel, Lefty’s friend.

  “That’s all, pal. I’ll explain everything. My friend requested you. You’re coming
in with us. I got work to do. If you don’t like the idea, if you back out, fine, no problem. You go on back home. But I want to put you in on this, serious. Because we spoke about something, you and I, right?”

  “I know what you’re talking about.”

  “I got plane tickets, ten o‘clock. Delta flight 1051, first-class, from Kennedy. We’ll be there twelve-thirty tomorrow afternoon. You start coming in six hours before time. Drive in from Tampa with your big car. You pick us up at the airport. Don’t get there two hours before time. I don’t want you seen there. You time yourself, stay away from the airport until time, you follow me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We just get in the car and we’re gone. Now, you satisfied? Because I tell you, if you wanna back away from it, no problem, you go back and there’s nothing said. I told you, two guys requested you, him and I. I’m taking full responsibility. He asked me if I wanted you. Okay?”

  “All right.”

  Years earlier, Lefty had promised that when the time was right, he’d take me along. Now I was being taken on a hit.

  From various conversations over the last couple of weeks I had pieced together just how the feuding Bonanno family factions lined up, just how ominous the friction was between them. Aligned with Rusty Rastelli were Sally Farrugia, consiglieri Steve Cannone, captains Sonny Black and Joe Massino. Against Rusty were captains Caesar Bonventre, Philip “Philly Lucky” Giaccone, Dominick “Big Trin” Trinchera, and Alphonse “Sonny Red” Indelicato and his son, Anthony Bruno Indelicato.

  Sonny, as usual, had been discreet about everything. And especially since the sitdowns about me were still going on, he wasn’t telling me anything. As close as we were, he was putting the family first, going by the rules. I probably would have been told more if I had been in New York. But everybody was being careful on the telephone. Lefty had been hinting at how everything was coming to a head, and had let me know that Sonny was the key to all the power, especially now that he had an alliance with Santo Trafficante. The opposing captains feared Sonny’s expanding power.

 

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