Mob Rules

by Louis Ferrante

  The Mafia will stand on principle (when it’s practical) for the sake of long-term profit, and simple survival.

  LESSON 3

  Why Are the Mobsters in the Newspapers So Old?: Love What You Do and You’ll Never Work a Day in Your Life

  THERE’S no such thing as a nine-to-five wiseguy. All those old mobsters photographed in the newspapers could have retired years before those embarrassing mug shots were taken, but they loved what they did and couldn’t stop.

  Louisiana boss Carlos Marcello and Chicago boss Anthony Accardo each had millions stashed away, enough to live wealthy for a hundred lifetimes, yet both were well into their eighties and still entrenched in The Life.

  Bonanno boss Joe Massino was a multimillionaire. While on the lam in Pennsylvania, he walked into a pharmacy and boosted a bottle of aspirin. This small caper led to his arrest, a bigger headache than the one he needed the aspirin for. Why would a man worth millions, with bags of cash delivered to him every day, steal a measly bottle of aspirin? Because that’s what Joe did. And he loved it.

  The thing you’ve got to understand about Jimmy [Burke] is that he loved to steal. He ate and breathed it. I think if you ever offered Jimmy a billion dollars not to steal, he’d turn you down and then try to figure out how to steal it from you. It was the only thing he enjoyed. It kept him alive.

  —Henry Hill, quoted in Nicholas Pileggi’s Wiseguy

  Sammy “The Bull” Gravano was worth over ten mil. Although he murdered more people than I can invite to a wedding, the government let him skate and keep the bulk of his dirty fortune in exchange for informing on his associates. Gravano was praised as an American hero by judges, prosecutors, and law enforcement officers, all of whom got a little bump in their careers after he helped them convict other mobsters. After getting a second chance at freedom, Gravano started up an international drug ring, embarrassing everyone who had called him a hero.

  Gravano betrayed all his old friends; it’s hard to believe his new government friends didn’t expect this. He also loved what he did—crime—and returned to it the first chance he got.

  Acting boss Anthony “Gaspipe” Casso caused a rift in the Lucchese family that nearly turned into a civil war. During the friction, a wiseguy I’ll refer to as “Jake” was called in to see Gaspipe.

  Jake was pretty certain Gaspipe was planning to kill him, and told me so.

  “Why go if you think he’ll kill you?” I asked.

  Jake looked at me incredulously.

  “I love this life,” he said. “Enough to die for it.”

  I’m going to a meeting and I don’t know if I’m coming back.

  —Capo Dominick “Sonny Black” Napolitano speaks to a friend before being murdered

  Can you imagine loving your job this much? Many people in all walks of life do.

  Don Vincent “The Chin” Gigante loved his job so much that he let his capos keep most of the family profits. He’d get irritated with other bosses whenever a high-echelon meeting was called to discuss money. Gigante felt that family bosses should meet to keep peace, dictate policy, or enforce rules, not count dollars.

  I personally loved being a mobster. It drove my whole being. Today, I love being a writer even more, a job where I can read and write every waking hour. Force me to do something I don’t like and I’m a lazy son of a bitch.

  If you find yourself voluntarily working after hours without being paid, you’ve found something you love to do. Until then, keep searching. Not everyone can love what they do. There are lots of boring jobs in this world, but the people who are content to fill them aren’t reading this book.

  Few people are fortunate enough to connect what they love with what they do. Don’t settle and you’ll be one of them.

  If you’ve ever read about Carthage and its most famous general, Hannibal, you’ll know that he ran his army like a Mob boss: unconditional rule, death to informants, steal as you go.

  Carthage made war on Rome.

  On his way to Rome, via Spain, Hannibal had a tough time crossing the Alps. Besides crappy weather, he met with fierce resistance; Alpine tribes formed hit teams and knocked off his soldiers left and right.

  Hannibal grew disgusted; the Alpine assassins were darn good.

  Then one day, a snitch gave Hannibal a tip. He told Hannibal that the tribal warriors who attacked his men by day went home each night, ate like gavones, fucked around with their wives, and fell asleep drunk.

  Once Hannibal realized the hit squads were nine-to-five guys, he knew he had them beat. They were no match for Hannibal, who loved what he did; that’s why he was freezing his ass off in the Alps.

  The next night, after the hit teams punched their time cards and scurried home, Hannibal took the heights with his troops.

  Early the next morning, those forty-hourper-week warriors showed up at work and got the shit beat out of them. Hannibal broke through the mountain pass and was poised to conquer Rome.

  Now the Romans broke their asses, too, and loved what they did, so Hannibal was in for a fight. But Hannibal and Rome changed the world and made history, while the lazy Alpine tribes have faded into oblivion. Who would you rather be?

  LESSON 4

  Hide Your Gun and Help the Old Man Across the Street: Family Values

  IT was a sunny afternoon. Four men, including myself, were sitting in a car with automatic weapons. We were staked out across the street from a trucking company, waiting for a truck to pull out of a warehouse so we could hijack it a few blocks away.

  Suddenly, an old man stepped off the opposite sidewalk and began crossing the street toward us. He was not a very fast walker, and traffic was soon coming at him from both directions. He must’ve gotten dizzy; he started to wobble on his feet and then fell. All four of us dropped our guns and sprang from the car, racing toward him while waving off oncoming vehicles. We carried the old man to the curb, where he recovered. After a few minutes, we helped him to his feet and sent him on his way.

  By this time, a small crowd had gathered around us. Now that we had all been seen by potential witnesses, the heist was off. We got back in our car and went to lunch.

  We cursed the old man’s timing, but none of us regretted helping him. There’d be other trucks to steal, but that poor old guy had only one life to live. I’m not saying we were angels—maybe fallen angels—since we were about to point a gun at somebody’s head. But as bad as we were, we were taught at home, and in the Mafia, to respect our elders.

  That’s why all four of us were on the same page, willing to give up a million-dollar score to help an old man. Every wiseguy we told the story to that day joked and laughed, but agreed with our actions.

  But tell me, Charlie, why did you make that terrible mistake and go with Giuseppe? He’s not your kind. He has no sense of values.

  —Salvatore Maranzano speaking to Charles “Lucky” Luciano

  For all its savage brutality, the Mob has a sense of values. In fact, looking back, I have to credit the Mafia for some of my better attributes. The list of what I learned is long: be straightforward, don’t give your word unless you can keep it, paying debts is just as important as collecting them, respect people’s homes, don’t hold a grudge . . .

  In the Mob, the men who embrace the organization’s values are those who go on to become the biggest earners.

  Every company should have a set of values, and every employee should share those values. This common ground will be reflected in its image and business practices.

  If dedication to a set of values, however twisted, produces success in a criminal society like the Mafia, how much further will genuine values propel you and your company in the straight world?

  Soldier: “My business is just buying and selling.”

  Capo: “I don’t want you selling that shit.”

  Soldier: “But there’s a lot of money in this. It’s the way the industry is going. We can’t stay competitive if we don’t deal in it.”

  Capo: “If you don’t stop, you’r
e gonna die.”

  —Gambino capo demands that an underling involved in the porn industry stay away from child porn and bestiality, or pay with his life.

  LESSON 5

  The Mob Doesn’t Take Notes: Sharpen Your Memory

  IN the movie Goodfellas, actor Paul Sorvino’s character is based on Paul Vario, a legendary capo in the Lucchese family. On the street, I was introduced to Vario’s grandson. I’ll call him Bruno. Before we parted company, Bruno said to me, “Give me your number.”

  “Let me get a pen,” I said, reaching into my car.

  “No,” said Bruno, “just tell me.”

  I reeled off my number. Bruno paused as if to make a mental note.

  I was impressed. I was even more impressed when he called.

  My friend Fat George DiBello was the caretaker of John Gotti’s social club in Queens. George is a walking Rolodex. To this day, I can name any person from the old days and George will tell me the guy’s birthday, marriage date, phone number, anything. Even the day and hour he died if he’s no longer with us.

  George may have been born with a sharp memory, but he honed his skills working at the club. In the criminal world, the less info that needs to be recorded, the better, in order to avoid incriminating paper trails.

  Trust your memory. Keep your business in your hat.

  —Meyer Lansky, the Mafia’s Albert Einstein

  Every day, mobsters use mnemonics, a formula that assists memory. Few, if any, know what the word mnemonics means, but they’re experts at doing it. With hundreds of people in the Mob, it’s difficult to remember everyone’s name, so nicknames are given to aid memory: Johnny Blue Eyes. Greg the Nose. Paulie Pools. This is mnemonics. How else can one mobster remember a small phone book of people in his head?

  It would have been difficult doing what Tony [Spilotro] did if he had secretaries, a filing system, Xerox machines, and the free use of a phone. But Tony did it all off-the-cuff and kept it all in his head.

  — Nicholas Pileggi, Casino

  Joe Massino, former boss of the Bonanno family, ran a billion-dollar organization without pen, paper, or laptop—nothing. He knew every man in his army of soldiers, and every law enforcement agent who ever tailed him. If an agent questioned Massino and returned to question him years later, Massino remembered that agent’s name and asked when the agent had switched cars, mentioning the make and model of the old car, including the license plate number.

  Massino wasn’t the only boss with a sharp memory.

  I once had a sit-down with acting Lucchese boss Joseph “Little Joe” DeFede.

  Our beef was probably one of a thousand DeFede presided over during his long career on the street. He and I spent less than an hour together, yet many years later, in prison, DeFede walked up to me and said, “Hi Louie, how ya been?”

  Unfortunately for DeFede’s crew, his outstanding memory made him an outstanding witness for the prosecution when the time got to him and he decided to flip.

  Whether DeFede’s memory was used to benefit the Mob or help dismantle it, it’s further proof that a mobster’s memory is sharp from years of relying on the mind to record important information.

  A large mass of recent evidence shows that memory ability is acquired, and it can be acquired by pretty much anyone.

  —Geoff Colvin, Talent Is Overrated

  LESSON 6

  Don’t End Up in the Trunk of a Car: Avoiding Office Politics

  GAMBINO capo Artie the Hair-Do was on vacation with me at a horse ranch in upstate New York. One night, Sammy “The Bull” Gravano’s name came up at the dinner table; he’d just been appointed underboss of our family. I hadn’t yet met Sammy, so I asked Artie whether he liked him or not.

  Artie looked at me, paused, then continued to eat. If Artie had cursed Sammy up and down, the impact wouldn’t have been as profound as his silence. From that moment on, I knew to stay away from Sammy the Bull, who murdered some of his closest friends and relatives, and betrayed others when he went on to cooperate with the government. What I really learned from Artie was to keep my mouth shut when it came to office politics. After a half century of life on the street, Artie died of natural causes. Knowing when to be silent was, in part, the reason why.

  War is a very rough game, but I think that politics is worse.

  —Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery

  Joe Bilotti was a tough old wiseguy built like an olive-skinned fire hydrant. Joe’s brother was Tommy Bilotti, the underboss who got whacked along with Gambino boss Paul Castellano in front of Sparks Steak House in Manhattan.

  When John Gotti succeeded Castellano as the new don of the family, he tossed around the idea of killing Joe too, concerned that Joe would avenge his brother’s death. Joe, however, kept his mouth shut. He was smart enough to know that he didn’t have the muscle to challenge Gotti. When questioned about his feelings, Joe shrugged and claimed he had none—strictly business.

  You can say what you want about John Gotti’s bloody reign, but any other tyrant, like Stalin or Mao, would have taken no chances. Joe would have been mincemeat. Colombian cartel leaders would even have wiped out Joe and Tommy’s children, eighteen in all, to destroy any chance of a child growing up to avenge his father.

  Although Gotti displayed mercy, Joe deserves the credit for his own survival; had he opened his mouth, he’d have been dead.

  At the same time Joe Bilotti’s life was being spared, another Gambino mobster, Louie Milito, was digging his own grave.

  Milito had issues with the new regime’s appointment decisions. He felt he was being pushed aside as promotions went to less experienced mobsters. Instead of holding his tongue like Bilotti, Milito expressed his dissatisfaction. The new regime called for his immediate dismissal. Milito’s assassin put a bullet under his chin, a “shut the fuck up” shot.

  Louie [Milito] knew the rules . . . He played a very dangerous game—and he lost.

  —Sammy “The Bull” Gravano

  Mobsters love the ponies, but they know the odds of losing at the track are far greater than those of winning. Getting involved in office politics is like betting the ponies—odds are you’ll lose. The guy who stays ahead is the guy who watches the races but doesn’t bet.

  Artie the Hair-Do and Joe Bilotti knew when to keep quiet. Louie Milito’s constant whispering was stopped by the whisper of a bullet passing through a silencer.

  Avoid office politics. Your corporate survival is at stake.

  LESSON 7

  Three Can Keep a Secret if Two Are Dead: Trust

  THE following sign hung above the door leading out of Louisiana Mob boss Carlos Marcello’s office:THREE CAN KEEP A SECRET

  IF TWO ARE DEAD

  Marcello wanted everyone who’d just spoken with him to remember the importance of trust.

  Growing up, I was friendly with Jesse Burke, son of Mafia heist man Jimmy Burke, the basis for Robert De Niro’s character Jimmy Conway in the hit movie Goodfellas.

  Jimmy Burke’s fascination with outlaws was evident from the names he gave his two sons, Jesse James and Frank James, the pair named after the notorious James gang outlaws who held up banks and trains in the late 1800s.

  Like the original Jesse James, Jimmy Burke gained his own notoriety when he pulled off the infamous Lufthansa heist.

  Although the entire world now knows that Burke was the mastermind behind the heist, the crime remains officially unsolved to this day.

  This is because Burke, unable to trust the men he did the heist with, killed nearly every one of them.

  Plenty of mobsters have killed to keep a secret. That’s why a smart mafioso holds on to someone who proves trustworthy, sometimes overlooking a shitload of other faults.

  I’ve never broken my word to any living human being I gave it to. That is the key to success in politics or anything else.

  —Tom Pendergast, known as “Boss Tom,” whose Mafia-connected political dynasty was known as “The Pendergast Machine”

  I had a guy in my cre
w who was as dumb as Forrest Gump. Once, while on a heist, I told him to listen to the radio so he could warn us if cops were on the way. After the heist, I returned to the car to find him singing along to rock music, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, throwing the money bags into the car before sliding in. He lowered the volume.

  “You told me to listen to the radio.”

  “The police scanner, you idiot!”

  I had to laugh. He’d followed my orders literally. I trusted him and he was worth his weight in gold. In the future, I gave him explicit instructions; if he failed me, it was my own fault.

  If you’ve done something to garner someone’s distrust, you may already be written off. If you intend to be trusted in the future and can prove your worthiness over time, an apology certainly doesn’t hurt.

  If you’re already a trustworthy person, realize you’re a hot commodity. Don’t offer your loyalty to just anyone. The wrong person or company will use or abuse you.

  Numerous mobsters swore allegiance to Sammy “The Bull” Gravano. After the Castellano hit, the Bull said, “We made an agreement that nobody involved in this from here on out would ever speak to each other about it at any time under any circumstances and wouldn’t admit anything to anybody else.”

  The Bull(shitter) then told this secret to prosecutors, judges, and anyone else who would listen; he even published it in a book that sold all over the world.

  Be trustworthy. But be careful to whom you swear loyalty.

  LESSON 8

  Why Italians Cut Up Pigs and Cook Them in the Sauce: Greed

  ON the afternoon of July 12, 1979, aspiring Bonanno don Carmine Galante sat down for lunch in a Brooklyn restaurant with four of his associates. As they finished their meal, three masked men rushed in, blasting away with automatic weapons. When the gunmen left, Galante and two of his companions were dead. The other two men at the table were unscathed.