Take what happened when agents raided the Brooklyn apartment of acting Colombo boss Alphonse Persico (right) two years ago and found what they were looking for – except, at the time, they didn't know it.

Instead, they kept searching, and found stuff they weren't looking for – bundles of cash, computer disks and written records; all this eventually enabled prosecutors to obtain loansharking and racketeering charges against Persico, underboss John (Jackie) DeRoss, and others. 

It was some time before agents realized that on that same day they had seized the "targeted" evidence they were looking for – a cell phone they felt would tie Persico to the slaying of prior underboss William (Wild Bill) Cutolo – soon after they got inside.

If the agents knew they had the suspect cell phone, they would have stopped searching and not found the incriminating loansharking records.

But since they didn't know it, prosecutors say they should be able to use the loansharking records the agents did find as evidence at Persico's trial.

Ironically, after FBI agents learned in August of last year  – again via dumb luck – that they had seized the cell phone they sought, they were unable to use it to make a murder case against Persico, or anyone else. Persico, DeRoss (left) and many former Cutolo crew members were indicted on racketeering and loansharking early this year. Persico, DeRoss and three others are scheduled for trial in January.

The mindblowing series of events surrounding the Oct. 8, 1999 search of Persico's apartment are laid out in hundreds of pages of court papers filed by Persico's lawyers and federal prosecutors.

That day, armed with a search warrant, agents Margaret Carmichael, Gary Pontecorvo and Kevin Lyons, with over 20 years combined experience, entered Persico's apartment and spotted two cell phones in the kitchen.

Neither had the correct serial number, however, and when the agents "tried to get the telephones to display their assigned numbers," neither showed 

"The agents photographed the two telephones with what they believed to be the assigned telephone numbers displayed," and continued searching for the cell phone. This was how they found cash and loansharking records in a shoe box, the prosecutors said.

At that point, the agents stopped their search. And as Lyons and Pontecorvo waited, Carmichael drove to Brooklyn Federal Court and obtained an amended warrant to search for loansharking records. Agents resumed the search and found more cash and a computer disk in the stove.

Ten months later, the FBI learned it had the right phone. An agent pressed the "RCL" button and the "#" key and the phone number 917-613-6734 was displayed on the screen. Agents checked with the manufacturer and learned that for security reasons, the real serial number was not the one on the back of the phone, but was encoded elsewhere.

Persico lawyers Barry Levin and Alan Futerfas have asked Judge Reena Raggi to toss the evidence. They argue that the search for the phone was a pretext to get into Persico's apartment and fish for evidence for which they

In court papers, Levin and Futerfas noted that prosecutors had Persico's phone records at the time of the search, and argued that neither the phone nor the records prove that Persico had anything to do with Cutolo's (right) murder. 

The attorneys say that if the agents had told Persico what they were looking for, instead of confining him to a bedroom during the searches, he would "have directed the agents to the target telephone."

Nonsense, say prosecutors. "He had a strong motive to prevent the agents from finding a phone used in a homicide. Moreover, even if Persico had been informed of the purpose of the search and tried to assist the agents, they would have been entitled to ignore his assistance and statements."

In other words, dumb luck sometimes works better than good old fashioned detective work.

As a sick and dying John Gotti lives out his final days in a Springfield, Missouri hospital, his wife remembered to send their son Frank Happy Birthday wishes for the 21st time since he died in a tragic car accident in 1980.

As she has done every October 15, Victoria Gotti expressed her entire family's undying love for Frank Gotti in paid "In Memoriam" notices in the New York Daily News. Frank was 12 years old when he was killed a few blocks from his Howard Beach, Queens home as he rode a borrowed minibike.

Gotti, who will be 61 this weekend – his 11th consecutive birthday in federal prison – underwent surgery in 1998 after he was diagnosed with head and neck cancer.

Two years later, the cancer re-emerged with a vengeance. His condition is considered terminal. In recent months, he has reportedly been at death's door several times, surviving each time.