Final Confession

by Brian P. Wallace

  Phil saw how anxious Tony was and he quickly moved to dispel his fears. “Don’t worry, Tone, nobody’s gonna get whacked. We just have a little business to attend to in Mattapan, and I wanted you with us,” Phil said.

  Tony breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Okay, Phil. … There’s a great spuckie shop on Blue Hill Ave. Can we stop there for a minute?”

  “Unbelievable,” Angelo whispered to himself.

  The three of them rode down Blue Hill Avenue until they saw the Brown Jug, located in Mattapan Square. “Who are we looking for?” Tony asked. “Information. Do either of you know any of the bartenders here?” Phil asked. Angelo pointed to Tony. “He knows everybody.” They parked and entered the crowded bar.

  The three men sat at the end of the bar and ordered a round of drinks. Phil asked Tony what he knew about the bartender on duty. Tony told him. The guy was from Lower Mills and his kid was a great football player at Boston College High School and—

  “I don’t need a family tree, all I want you to do is introduce me,” Phil said, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” whispered Angelo again.

  Tony introduced Phil and Angelo to the bartender, and Phil began throwing huge tips at the guy, who, they found out, worked as a school custodian during the day. The later it got, the friendlier the bartender got. “Sorry about your pinch, Tony,” he eventually said. Before Tony could reply, Phil asked, “How did you know about that?” “I read about it in the paper this morning,” the bartender replied. “Of course,” Phil said, backing off.

  Then the bartender said something that almost knocked Phil off his stool. “I was surprised when I read it. I thought it was just gonna be a break-and-take job,” the bartender said.

  “What, you knew about the job before you read the paper this morning?” Phil asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, we all knew it was going down while the Packers game was going on. Some guys in the bar even made jokes about it as we watched the game here on Sunday,” the bartender reported.

  Phil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What kind of jokes?” he asked.

  “You know … like ‘I hope McAleney will be able to pay his bar bill now that he’s robbing a jewelry store.’ Stuff like that. And ‘Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin; you never go out the way you came in,’ stuff like that.”

  Phil’s head was spinning. “You mean to tell me that people in this bar watching the game knew that McAleney was robbing that jewelry store at the same time?”

  “Sure, we all knew,” the bartender said nonchalantly.

  Phil held his breath and asked, “Was there a guy named Ben Tilley in here last Sunday?”

  “How’d you know that? In fact, Tilley was the one making most of the jokes.”

  “WHERE DOES that piece of shit live?” Phil asked Angelo as the three left the Brown Jug, speaking of McAleney. Angelo replied, “Somerville.”

  Twenty minutes later, Phil’s car was parked in front of an old house badly in need of repair. “Are you sure this is the place?” Phil asked Angelo. “This is where I dropped him off,” Angelo replied. “Did you see him go in?” Phil asked. “I didn’t have that much time. It took him two minutes just to stagger out of my car,” Angelo remembered. “How the fuck did we get hooked up with the likes of this guy?” Phil asked, ignoring the fact that it had been his own idea.

  Phil picked the front-door lock and the three men entered the filthy home of Edward McAleney. “Find the scumbag,” Phil barked and both Angelo and Tony went scurrying. “He’s in here,” Angelo yelled. Tony and Phil both converged on the room Angelo was calling from. “Are ya gonna whack him, Phil?” Tony asked. “He’s not worth it, Tony,” Phil replied.

  They entered the bedroom, where they found McAleney, passed out. The strong smell of cheap whiskey permeated the room. “Wake him up,” Phil ordered Angelo, who grabbed the prone body, slapped McAleney’s face, and called his name until he opened his eyes.

  “Wh-what? Wh-what are you doing?” McAleney screamed.

  “Shut the fuck up before we really hurt you,” Phil said.

  Angelo released his grip and McAleney hit the bed hard.

  Tony turned on the lights and McAleney began to get his bearings. “Phil, Angelo! What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You, you fucking lowlife!” Phil yelled.

  McAleney looked befuddled.

  “I thought you said nobody knew about the score last Sunday,” Phil yelled into his face.

  “Why? Who knew?” McAleney asked.

  “Who the fuck didn’t know, you asshole!” Phil shouted. He pulled out his .38-caliber gun and held it to McAleney’s head and asked menacingly, “Did you discuss the job with Ben Tilley?”

  McAleney tried to jerk away.

  “You lie to me and I’ll be the last person you ever lie to,” Phil threatened. “Now, how did Tilley know about the job?”

  McAleney looked around, but there was no sympathy in that room. “I might have told him,” McAleney whispered.

  “You might have told him,” Phil repeated, mocking him. Then Phil cocked the gun.

  McAleney cowered.

  Before Phil could pull the trigger, Tony grabbed his wrist. “Come on, Phil, we got what we came here for. You said he’s not worth it, remember?”

  At Tony’s words Phil got off the bed and said to McAleney, “Stay away from me, you fucking lush, or next time you won’t be so lucky.”

  They left Somerville and headed to Phil’s room at the Fenway Motor Inn to discuss their next move.

  PHIL KNEW that the feds, the Boston Police, the MDC police, and just about every other police force in the Commonwealth were going to use the Kay Jewelers pinch to put them away for a long time. Secretly, Phil met with one of his many paid informants, who just happened to be a high-ranking Boston police official.

  As they strolled along a circular walkway known as the Sugarbowl on Castle Island, the officer told Phil that the feds were going to ask the judge in the Lynn case to throw the book at them. “You really pissed the feds off, Phil,” the cop said. “You made a mockery of them and now’s their chance to get even.”

  Phil wanted to know what kind of sentence they were talking about. “They’re asking twenty to twenty-five years for you and Tony. Angelo might skate, since he has no priors,” the cop said. “What?” Phil exploded. “Twenty years for a B and E? That’s fucking nuts.” “Hey, don’t kill the messenger,” the cop said. “But that’s absurd! Nobody gets twenty to twenty-five for B and E. Nobody,” Phil groused. “Nobody ever got away with what you got away with, either,” the cop said.

  “We’ll see about that,” Phil said. Then he asked the $64,000 question. “Who tipped the police?” he asked straight out.

  “I don’t know the answer to that,” the cop said.

  “How did the Lynn cops know we were in there?”

  “Nobody’s talking on this one; the feds are all over it,” he whispered, even though nobody was within a hundred yards of them.

  Phil reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope containing more money than the cop would make in a month. He quickly passed the envelope. They walked off in different directions.

  Phil went back to McGrail’s and made some phone calls. After the fifth call, he left and walked up Yawkey Way to Brookline Avenue, where he stopped at a pay phone and made another call. Standing near Fenway Park, he talked in low tones to the person on the other end of the line. By the time he returned to McGrail’s, Angelo was sitting in their booth, waiting for him. “How we doing?” Angelo asked.

  “The feds want to give me and Tony twenty years,” Phil said.

  “For a lousy fucking B and E?” Angelo gawked. “What’s going on, Phil?”

  “The feds know what we’ve done and they’re pissed because they couldn’t catch us. Now they have us, and they want to make sure we’re off the street for twenty years or so,” Phil said slowly, as if not believing what he was saying. “You’re off the hook, Ange. They’re only looking for probation for you, since you
have no priors,” Phil finished.

  “Fuck that, Phil. If you and Tony do a double saw, we’re all on the hook.” He was silent and then asked, “What about the DA? Is he going along with the feds?” His tone was glum.

  “It doesn’t matter what that asshole wants, we’re all gonna be okay.” Phil smiled for the first time.

  Angelo’s face lit up. “You fixed it?”

  “Yeah, the fix is in, but it’s not gonna come cheap,” Phil remarked.

  “How much?” Angelo whispered.

  Phil looked around and said, “Seventy-five large.”

  Angelo just whistled.

  “They got us by the short hairs, Ange; we either come up with the scratch or me and Tony go to Walpole. It’s only twenty-five large apiece, and we’ve got it,” Phil said as if trying to convince himself along with Angelo.

  They each took a long drink of Schlitz and Angelo asked, “Phil, you said twenty-five apiece. What about Reddy and McAleney? Are they in or out?”

  Phil smiled. “They’ll get taken care of, but I want McAleney to squirm a little first.”

  The Essex County grand jury had returned one count of breaking and entering in the daytime (a lesser sentence than nighttime) with intent to commit larceny, and one count of possession of burglarious tools against all five defendants. The case was heard on May 21, 1968, in Essex County Superior Court in Newburyport. The presiding judge was Victor Bowman (not his real name). The transcript of the trial reads like this:

  CLERK: Philip J. Cresta Jr.: indictment 61532 charges you with breaking and entering in the daytime with intent to commit larceny. Do you waive the reading of that indictment?

  PHIL CRESTA: Yes, sir.

  CLERK: How do you plead on indictment 61532?

  CRESTA: Guilty.

  CLERK: Philip J. Cresta Jr.: indictment 61533 charges you with possession of burglarious tools. Do you waive the reading of that indictment?

  CRESTA: Yes, sir.

  CLERK: How do you plead on indictment 61533?

  CRESTA: Guilty.

  JUDGE VICTOR BOWMAN: How old are you, Mr. Cresta?

  CRESTA: Forty.

  BOWMAN: How far through school did you get?

  CRESTA: First year of high.

  BOWMAN: Do you know that, by your plea, you admit to the facts alleged in these indictments?

  CRESTA: Yes, sir.

  BOWMAN: Do you do so voluntarily?

  CRESTA: Yes, sir.

  BOWMAN: Have you discussed this matter with your lawyer and are you satisfied with his advice?

  CRESTA: Yes, sir.

  BOWMAN: Has anyone made any promises or threats to induce your plea?

  CRESTA: No, sir.

  BOWMAN: Do you know, then, that your sentence is entirely up to me?

  CRESTA: Yes, sir.

  BOWMAN: All right, you may be seated.

  Judge Bowman then heard the same pleas from Angelo, Tony, and Michael Reddy. Then it was McAleney’s turn.

  DISTRICT ATTORNEY PETER F. BRADY (Assistant District Attorney for Essex County): Your Honor, a fifth defendant, Edward McAleney, has entered a plea of not guilty on these same charges. His case has been continued until June fourth.

  BOWMAN: Proceed, Mr. Brady.

  DA: Your Honor, for the record, the testimony you are about to hear will not be given by the officers or officer on the scene. It has been agreed by counsel for the defendants that the story may be read into the record.

  BOWMAN: Proceed.

  Lynn Police Lieutenant Edward Higgins was then sworn in and took the witness stand.

  DA: Do you have the story there, sir?

  LT. EDWARD HIGGINS: Yes.

  DA: Would you read it for the court?

  HIGGINS: This is the report of Officer Holland Bourque: “On Sunday, January 14, 1968, at approximately four-sixteen P.M., Officers William Bochicchio, Thomas McDonald, and myself responded to a call that some men had entered an alley between the Warner Theatre and Woolworth’s department store. Officer Bochicchio and myself entered the alley from the Blake Street side. Officer Thomas McDonald entered the alley from the Union Street side. I found that a side door to the Kay Jewelers store had been forced. I entered the building and found five men inside. Two were upstairs and two were down in the basement, attempting to open a large walk-in safe. We apprehended all five subjects at gun-point. I informed each of the men that they were under arrest and I informed them of their rights. Officer J. Peterson asked each one if they understood what I had told them. They all said they did. They were then taken to Lynn Police headquarters, where they were again notified of their rights.

  DA: And what, if anything, did you find inside the Kay Jewelers store?

  HIGGINS: In the cellar we found a suitcase containing a variety of metal-cutting tools. On the floor we found two iron bars wrapped in a green window shade. While we were at the scene, an employee of Kay Jewelers came to the store and showed us where the alarm had been disconnected. Nothing was taken from either the first floor or the cellar, but damage had been done to the dial of the walk-in safe. A black cashmere coat that belonged to one of the defendants was found on a box adjacent to the safe in question in the cellar. One hacksaw with blade and ten extra blades, four two-inch nipples connected to four two-inch couplings to be used, one heavy-duty crowbar, one jimmy bar, two bull-point hammers, one heavy-duty electric drill, an extension cord, eleven assorted drill bits of various sizes, one drill bit for cutting cement and steel, one regular flashlight, one pocket-sized flashlight, one screwdriver, one crescent wrench, two chisels, and one pamphlet on safes were all found in the basement of Kay Jewelers at 285 Union Street, in Lynn, Massachusetts.

  ATTORNEY JOSEPH P. MCPARTLAND (Counsel for the Defense): No questions, Your Honor.

  BOWMAN: All right, I will hear you.

  MCPARTLAND: Your Honor, you have four defendants before you this morning. The first is Mr. Cresta. Mr. Cresta presently supports a wife and six children. Because of some personal domestic problems with his wife, Mr. Cresta does not reside with his family on Light Street in Lynn, but he has been providing ongoing support for his children. In addition to this, Mr. Cresta has taken an active role in their upbringing. My feeling, Your Honor, is that in view of those circumstances and his family relationship and the fact that he is still employed as a car salesman in the summer and he is self-employed in the carnival business: to incarcerate him, if I could make a plea to the court, would not serve either him or his family or society. In spite of what I am aware of in terms of his record, it would be my feeling that certainly the court has to consider this in making a sentence. But also, I would like the court to consider that, to my knowledge, Mr. Cresta has not been in any difficulty with the law in several years and that—

  BOWMAN: Since 1961?

  MCPARTLAND: Yes, that is right, Your Honor. And if the court could consider some kind of suspended sentence, that might be a sufficient lever over his head to keep him working, to keep him supporting his family, and to keep him out of trouble with the law.

  BOWMAN: There were no arms involved here, were there?

  MCPARTLAND: No, there were not, Your Honor, and with regard to the defendant Reddy …

  For the next twenty minutes, Attorney Joe McPartland issued the same plea for Reddy and then Tony. In each case he outlined their support of their families and their employment records, stating that Tony was self-employed and in the transportation of vehicles, which was coincidentally the truth. Reddy was said to be an employed bartender and was presently residing with and looking after his aged mother. McPartland asked Judge Bowman to give all three men suspended sentences and probation for three years. In regard to Angelo, McPartland asked Judge Bowman to sentence him to two years’ probation, since this was his first offense.

  The courtroom was packed with supporters of the defendants, per their attorney’s instructions. There were friends and relatives of Phil, Angelo, and Tony, all making themselves seen. Michael Reddy’s aged mother was there, showing her support. Also in the
courtroom were five FBI agents, three Boston police detectives, a few state police organized-crime officers, and a certain sergeant from the Arlington Police Department. Bowman, after hearing McPartland’s twenty-minute speech, looked at Assistant District Attorney Brady and nodded.

  BOWMAN: Mr. Brady, what is the Commonwealth’s recommendation?

  DA: You’re Honor, in regard to Mr. Cresta, the Commonwealth will be seeking two and a half in the state prison at Walpole.

  Brady went on to recommend that Angelo be given a suspended sentence, but no actual jail time. Then, for the Commonwealth, he recommended that Tony be given two years in the Franklin House of Correction, and that Michael Reddy serve one year there.

  BOWMAN: Were those recommendations to be served? Have you considered a suspension of them?

  BRADY: No, Your Honor. I strongly recommend that all but one sentence be served.

  BOWMAN: Mr. Brady, from the police report, it would seem that these men were apprehended before they actually broke into this—

  DA: I think that is true, Your Honor. Well, they were actually in the process of breaking in—

  Bowman handed his decision to the clerk before Brady had a chance to finish the sentence.

  CLERK (reading the judge’s ruling): Philip J. Cresta Jr., on indictment 61532, charging you with breaking and entering in the daytime, with intent to commit larceny, and on indictment 61533, charging you with possession of burglarious tools, the court orders that you be punished by imprisonment for a term of not less than two and a half and not more than three years, to be served concurrently. Execution of this term is suspended and the court places you on probation for a period of three years.

  The courtroom erupted. The feds, who were hoping for a twenty-year sentence, stood there looking at each other, unable to believe what had just happened. The Boston detectives stormed out of the courtroom, slamming the door as they left. A Lynn police sergeant took out his badge and flung it in the direction of the defendants. Judge Bowman banged his gavel and demanded that everyone be quiet. Phil was happy to comply.