by Lamothe, Lee
Sonny Red and his faction had been happily reaping the profits from distributing the Sixth Family’s heroin in New York. In late 1980 or early 1981, he is said to have taken $1.5 million worth of heroin on consignment from Gerlando Sciascia and Joe LoPresti and then declined to pay for it. This endears you to no one in the mob, where men have been murdered over debts a thousand times less. More important, if Sonny Red were to become the boss, he would inevitably cut in on the Sixth Family’s lucrative action, perhaps move for exclusive access and put a crimp in the Zips’ free-wheeling, wide-ranging heroin sales to any and all comers.
The other New York crime families were well aware of the growing strife. Between chuckles about the chaotic Bonanno Family, seemingly unable to keep its own house in order, each weighed where its interests lay in the struggle for control. Vincent “The Chin” Gigante, the boss of the Genovese Family, was backing Sonny Red and, accordingly, a Genovese soldier was directly agitating on Sonny Red’s behalf. John Gotti, then an aggressive captain in the Gambino Family, along with the Gambino underboss, Aniello Dellecroce, and several of his captains and soldiers, were staunch supporters of both Sciascia and Massino. Gotti and Massino had long been pals, since their wayward youth as chronic truck hijackers; the Gambinos were huge buyers of the Sixth Family’s heroin who met regularly with Sciascia and LoPresti to arrange lucrative deals. There was little doubt where the Gambinos’ support would go. Some Colombo Family members also gave Massino the nod, although some old-time Colombo members had ties to Sonny Red.
Support from within the Gambino and Colombo families was a good omen for Massino, who, on Rastelli’s behalf, next took the complaint to the top—the Commission. The Commission was the Mafia’s highest authority when navigating the crowded underworld of New York. It was led by Paul Castellano, the boss of the Gambino Family (until he was killed on orders from John Gotti in a 1985 coup d’état within his own family). Castellano listened as Massino made his case against Sonny Red. The Commission seems also to have gone to Sonny Red to hear his side. Later, Castellano passed the Commission’s ruling on to Massino. Not surprisingly, the conservative forces on the panel came out in support of retaining Rastelli as the Bonanno boss, but denied Massino the option of striking out against his opponents. The Bonannos, the Commission declared, needed to sort their problems out privately and peacefully.
“No bloodshed,” Castellano told Massino.
“The Commission ruled that there should be no gunplay; to work it out among yourselves,” said Sal Vitale, who was briefed by Massino on the ruling shortly afterward. In accordance with those orders, a series of meetings between the rival Bonanno factions was planned, ostensibly to find common ground among the contenders and bring a peaceful end to their standoff. For the first meeting, on February 4, 1981, all of the captains were called to Ferncliff Manor, a catering hall on West 11 th Street near Avenue U. When Sonny Red was told to meet the other captains at Ferncliff, he asked his men to check it out beforehand.
“When they asked me, am I familiar with this place, I said ‘Yes. Only about six blocks from my bar,’” Frank Lino said. Sonny Red decided to gather his men together at Lino’s bar before the meeting. Sonny Red, Philly Lucky, Big Trinny and Bruno Indelicato showed up. Curiously, so did Sciascia, LoPresti and other unnamed mobsters from Canada. Together the men walked to the nearby hall, where they joined up with others from the Zip contingent: Salvatore Catalano, Cesare Bonventre and Baldo Amato.
“I walked him to it to let him know where the meeting was, George from Canada, people from Canada, I walked them to the place,” Lino said. The first meeting was a bust.
Sonny Red’s worries were heightened rather than eased by the truce talks, so much so that before the second gathering, called a month later, he braced for an all-out Bonanno war. The second meeting was scheduled at Brooklyn’s Embassy Terrace on Avenue U and East 2nd Street, again close to Lino’s bar.
“They thought there would be some kind of trouble and my bar was only two blocks away from the Embassy Terrace, so they came down and we loaded up. We had rifles and pistols,” Lino said. Despite the worries of Sonny Red, Lino was unconcerned because the second meeting coincided with a parade through the streets of Brooklyn.
“When they told me where the meeting was, I told them they’re having a big parade, going to be loaded with patrolmen for the parade. I doubt if anything would happen that day,” Lino recalled. The parade was in celebration of the American hostages who had been released after 444 days of imprisonment in the captured U.S. embassy in Iran. One of the former hostages, oddly, was a cousin of one of Sonny Red’s most vicious soldiers. The firearms were not needed for that meeting, but they did not go unnoticed.
“We were at J&S Cake when Tuttie Francese, a friend of Joe Massino, came in and told him that the other side were loadin’ up. They were buying automatic weapons, meaning the three other captains were getting ready for war,” Vitale said. Francese was a soldier in the Colombo Family.
Massino took this new information to Castellano as well as to Carmine Persico, the boss of the Colombo Family. Massino was a shrewd operator—he knew Persico sat on the Commission and would likely give credence to the information since it came from one of his own men. Massino begged the Commission to untie his hands and let him and his men “defend themselves.” Warfare, after all, was bad for business. Uncontrolled blood in the streets—as the gangsters had seen from past bursts of violence—brought unwanted attention from police, politicians and the press, and cut into all mobsters’ profits. Faced with the disquieting prospect of Sonny Red trying to seize control of the Bonanno Family in a drawn-out war, the Commission gave in to Massino.
“You have to defend yourself. Do what you have to do,” Castellano told him. In mob parlance, that was permission to kill. Massino pounced on the opportunity.
Massino and Sciascia had formed an alliance to purge the three rival captains, and they started making their plans. The challenge they faced was finding a way to kill all of the dissenters at once, so there would be no opportunity for a revenge strike. What they needed was a trap. A third “peace” meeting was called by Massino. Sonny Red had looked at things in pretty much the same way as Massino and Sciascia and was concerned that his opposition was drawing him into an ambush. With good reason. Unbeknownst to Sonny Red, the meeting was purposely called for a Tuesday evening—the night Joe Massino and his cronies habitually played cards and ate a long dinner together at J&S Cake, Massino’s private social club.
“Joe Massino felt that we can go there, kill them and come back to the club using that as an alibi,” Vitale said.
Through Sciascia, arrangements were made for Vito Rizzuto and two of his closest colleagues to come to New York to help take care of the nasty bits. Vito maintained a relative disinterest in the daily grind of New York’s wiseguys when it did not directly affect his business. This job seemed to qualify. He could appreciate the need to purge opposition forces, as the Sixth Family had recently done in Montreal. It might even have been seen as the necessary pay-back to New York for finally approving the Sixth Family’s hit on Paulo Violi.
Massino also met with Sonny Black, another influential Bonanno captain, who had been promoted after Galante’s murder. Sonny Black had his own interests to look out for, and during his discussions with Massino he sought to have an associate take part, thinking the new recruit would earn a chance to be inducted into the family.
“We should take him with us,” Sonny Black said to Massino, indicating Donnie Brasco. Massino dismissed the idea and, in one of many fortuitous and canny decisions he would make in his long mob career, dropped Brasco from the roster. When Massino returned to the car after his meeting, where Vitale, acting as his driver, was waiting for him, Massino said that Sonny Black was now part of the plan.
“Sonny Black is signed with us,” Massino told Vitale. “Sonny Black wants to ‘straighten out’ [induct] Donnie Brasco.” His words are an embarrassing acknowledgment of how deeply FBI agent Joe Pistone ha
d fooled the mobsters. Massino also met with John Gotti, Aniello Dellacroce and Angelo Ruggiero, all of the Gambino Family, eliciting their assistance.
May 5, 1981, the night of the third meeting, was a busy one for all concerned. Joe Massino and Sal Vitale met at J&S Cake, just as they did every Tuesday. They were joined by Duane “Goldie” Leisenheimer and James “Big Louie” Tartaglione. Later in the evening, Sciascia and Santo “Tony” Giordano arrived. The two Zips chatted with Massino in the foyer.
Goldie was to be the lead driver that night, shuttling shooters and captains around to where they needed to be. He had also offered his apartment as a crash pad for anyone needing a place to sleep. Massino handpicked Goldie as his counter-surveillance man outside the club. Goldie had been serving Massino since he was a boy, following him around like a puppy dog. It had led more than one mobster to refer to him as “Joey’s Golden Retriever.” Although he had earned Massino’s trust, he could never join the family because of his Irish-German roots. Sciascia, who always preferred to place his faith in fellow Sicilians, was worried about including Goldie.
“Joe introduced Goldie to them,” Vitale said. “George made a face, Tony made a face. This kid has blond hair, blue eyes—he’s not Italian. Joe says he’s the best driver, good with mirrors, good with walkie-talkies, it was a go.” (Being “good with mirrors” meant he was able to track vehicles behind him as he drove, often detecting when his car was being followed by police.) Goldie was given a walkie-talkie to allow those outside the club to communicate with those inside. Goldie, Big Louie, Sonny Black and five other trusted members of Sonny Black’s crew—including Lefty Ruggiero and John “Boobie” Cerasani—waited at a discreet distance outside the club, watching for police or rival gangsters. They were also to watch for any of the three captains who might escape the trap that awaited them. Goldie was to drive those who were not slated for death away from the club afterward, and the others were ready to swoop in to clean up the anticipated mess.
Well before the scheduled meeting, Vitale drove Massino to the club. He dropped him off in front, drove two blocks farther, parked the car and walked back.
Vitale already knew he had been selected as one of the shooters. When he arrived at the club, Massino introduced him for the first time to the others, all imported from Montreal: allegedly Vito Rizzuto, Emanuele Ragusa and a man known simply as the old-timer. The old-timer had silver-gray hair and was an “elderly gentleman,” Vitale said. He later described him as being between the ages of 65 and 70. It was likely one of Nick Rizzuto’s mob contemporaries sent to oversee Vito’s demeanor under fire. The family had several members who were proficient with a shotgun, such as Domenico Manno, Vito’s uncle, who had been convicted in the Paolo Violi hit a few years earlier—although, then 47 years old, Manno was likely too young to be considered a senior citizen by Vitale, who was 33 at the time.
After the introductions, the men armed themselves with guns already inside the club. They were also given ski masks so the other captains “wouldn’t know who the shooters were,” Vitale said.
“I had a Tommy gun,” he said. “They call it a grease gun, an automatic weapon. Fires multiple rounds.” Vitale did not remember much about the weapons that had been under his care when he was his company’s armorer in the U.S. Army. He examined the gun from the barrel to the stock, fingering its parts. He pushed the safety lock to the off position in the process.
“When I pulled the chamber back it discharged and shot five times into the wall.” The rounds narrowly missed a startled Giovanni Ligammari.
“I was shocked. Everyone was shocked,” Vitale said. “I got everybody’s attention.” Massino did not want Vitale to fire his gun during the ambush unless he absolutely needed to. In such a small space, anyone could be hurt during a frantic shootout.
Vito and Emanuele were designated as the lead shooters, according to Vitale. Vitale and the old-timer were told to guard the exit door.
“No one was supposed to get by me and the old-timer,” Vitale said. “We were told by Joe and George that if Sonny Red did not show up, they were going to call it off. Prior to them arriving, George Sciascia said, ‘If Sonny Red is there, I will put my hand through my hair on the side of my head, that means it’s a go.’”
Massino told them to announce that it was a holdup and to try to get everyone to stand up against the wall. He had hoped the captains could be killed in an orderly, execution-style manner to avoid a messy free-for-all gun battle. They were now ready for the arrival of their prey.
“When we entered the closet,” Vitale said, “we left the door open a smidge to look out. We were in the closet, we all had our weapons loaded. We sat there and waited.”
CHAPTER 19
BROOKLYN, MAY 5, 1981
About the time that the hunters had gathered at the site of the third meeting, the intended prey likewise gathered together. Sonny Red had made plans of his own, although not so elaborate as Massino and Sciascia’s.
Sonny Red had called in Frank Lino, a soldier in his son’s crew, for a serious chat. He told Lino that they were heading into a dangerous meeting and, to be cautious, wanted to leave Bruno Indelicato out of it. Sonny Red said that Lino would go to the meeting in Bruno’s stead.
“They thought they might get killed,” Lino said. “They had asked me to go because they thought there would be trouble. I didn’t feel too good [about that], but I went.” It was a strategic move to guard against having all of Sonny Red’s men caught in the same place at the same time. The fact that the one asset to be held in reserve was his own son no doubt made the plan look particularly good to Sonny Red.
If they did not return, the order from Sonny Red to Bruno was clear: “To kill everybody in the Zips, Joe Massino [and] Sonny Black; get them,” Lino said. Sonny Red ordered his men who were not attending the meeting to spread throughout the city that night so they could not all be taken out if the anticipated purge widened.
“They were already at their places. Some were in Staten Island. Some were at Tommy Karate’s in Brooklyn,” Lino said. Sonny Red then had one last order for the men heading with him to the meeting.
“If there is shooting, everybody is on their own, try to get out.”
Sonny Red, Philly Lucky and Big Trinny arrived at the My Way Lounge, Frank Lino’s club, early in the evening, collecting Lino, and then all four set off together. Lino and Big Trinny drove in one car, Philly Lucky and Sonny Red in another. They drove to a diner, where they met up with two neutral captains also invited to the meeting—Joseph “Joe Bayonne” Zicarelli and Nicholas “Nick the Battler” DiStefano. The pair had been invited to avert Sonny Red’s suspicions, although the two old-timers apparently had no idea of the plan. Two members of the Zips joined them at the diner and everyone ditched their own cars at a Nathan’s Famous hot-dog outlet to climb into vehicles being driven by the Zips. They wheeled through the streets of Brooklyn until they reached the social club that was on loan to the Bonannos that night from Salvatore “Sammy Bull” Gravano and Frank DeCico, members of the Gambino Family. Lino was familiar with the club from time spent drinking and gambling there with fellow mobsters.
“I used to frequentize it,” Lino said. The knowledge would save his life. Sonny Red and his men were not carrying guns as they headed into the meeting. It is one of the arcane rules of the Mafia that a member cannot bring a gun to an administrative meeting; it is largely why such arranged meetings have been known to turn into planned assassinations. Not everyone plays by the same rules.
The club where the captains were gathering was a modest two-story brick building virtually indiscernible from its neighbors. A low wrought-iron fence separated the club’s property from the next. As they arrived, the gangsters rang the doorbell at the locked door. This was nothing unusual, as most of the mob’s private social clubs, after-hours bars and gambling joints kept tight control on public access.
“When the doorbell rang, we looked through the crack at who entered,” Sal Vitale said. Sonny Red and the
others walked inside and saw that other Bonanno captains were already there.
“When we first walked in, we walked downstairs and there was a room. Looked like a storage room,” Lino said. “There was Joe Massino. There was George from Canada, Anthony Giordano, another couple of Italian guys, I don’t know their names, and, you know, and us guys.” Giordano greeted Sonny Red and his entourage at the door.
“We’re getting everything ready upstairs,” Giordano told them. “Give me a few minutes.”
Inside the closet, Vito, Vitale and their colleagues watched closely and waited. In the main room, the group was unsettled.
“Sonny Red was holding onto Joe’s arm,” Lino said. “Like a friend, like two friends, you hold an arm.” Rather than a sign of friendship, Sonny Red likely thought the closer he stuck to Massino, the less likely he was to be hit by a bullet.
“They were talking in the back. Philly Lucky was in the back talking to Joe Bayonne and these two Italian guys. I was talking to George from Canada, Big Trinny and Nick the Battler,” Lino said. Sciascia firmly placed his left arm around Lino, who was an unexpected guest at the gathering. Sciascia tried to make it appear like a friendly gesture, but Lino, nervous from the start, did not seem to appreciate it. Then Sciascia deliberately lifted his other arm and slowly ran his fingers through his silver hair.
