It was May 11 of last year, a Friday morning, and mob associate Joseph (Joe Dinga) Savarese (right) was home waiting for Big Frankie, who unbeknownst to Savarese was an undercover cop posing as a larcenous trucker.

Savarese, a former cop himself, had larceny and other crimes on his mind. The most recent Gang Land column was also on his mind.

When Big Frankie walked in the door, 58-year-old Savarese dispensed with the pleasantries and launched into a tirade.

"I'm gonna show you the papers I got, they mention Carmine (Baby Carmine Russo, (left) a Genovese mobster mentioned by) Jerry Capeci in last night's column. Stay away from (Russo)," warned Savarese.

"Oh, the one on the Internet," said Big Frankie.

"It's not on the Internet, it's ... every Thursday in the Daily News," said Savarese, obviously a little behind the times and not too computer literate. The column is on the Internet and hasn't appeared in The News since 1995, so he must have been reading a printout of the column.

For the next two and a half hours, they talked about wiseguys and turncoats, including, as reporter Robert Gearty disclosed in yesterday's Daily News, the

"You know why? He had 30 guys with him. (His attitude was) 'Come look for me.' What do you think, he was going to stand there and let them shoot him? He'd kill you," said Savarese.

But they kept going back to the May 10, 2001Gang Land column and its focus, the indictment of many top Genovese gangsters who were snared by turncoat associate Michael (Cookie) Durso, and the ramifications for the wiseguys and family leaders who let him get close to them.

"Depends who brought him along originally," said  Savarese. "There'll be arguments all day long: 'I didn't bring him down'; 'You brought him.' It's either (Salvatore "Sammy Meatballs" Aparo) or Joe Zito." (left)

Savarese explained, as the column pointed out, that Durso was angry that Carmine (Carmine Pizza) Polito had killed Durso's cousin Tino Lombardi and shot Durso in the head and that the Genoveses were feuding over whether Polito should get whacked.

"They killed Tino and this kid. They shot them. This kid Carmine did it. They wanted to kill Carmine. Higher ups, he says no. Big argument. This kid was,

When Big Frankie, playing his role perfectly, laughed and said that the family wiseguys who proposed Durso for membership were lucky he was never "made," Savarese wasn't so sure that it mattered.

Savarese: What's the difference? The guy that put him up is in trouble anyhow.
Big Frankie: Well, Sammy (Meatballs) put him up, right?
Savarese: Sammy (right) won't come home no more. Better off in jail. The way things are looking.
Big Frankie:  They'll kill him when he comes out?
Savarese:  They'll find him with an apple in his mouth. Or he'll disappear.
Big Frankie: He probably don't even wanna post bail.
Savarese: No. Not now.
Big Frankie: Well, what do you mean?
Savarese:  Wait till we see the tapes. We're hoping that (Durso) wasn't wired all the time, only when he had to set somebody up. But I know he didn't set me up.

Very wishful thinking by Joe Dinga, one of 40 wiseguys and associates taken down by the Durso tapes.

Like Sammy Meatballs, Joe Zito and so many others, Savarese has agreed to plead guilty in the case which was filed in Brooklyn Federal Court last year. He also will plead to the racketeering charges in Manhattan Federal Court that stem from Big Frankie's work.

Of more than 120 wiseguys and wannabes snared in both cases, Savarese is one of two charged in both. The handwriting was right there on the wall, or rather, the column.

The feds pulled out all the stops yesterday in an effort to head off the tired and timeworn crazy act Mafia boss Vincent (Chin) Gigante has resurrected for his upcoming racketeering trial with son Andrew and others.

They cited tape recorded telephone conversations with his wife, girlfriend and longtime doctor as proof positive that Gigante is lucid and often has "completely normal conversations regarding complex matters."

After being convicted and imprisoned, Gigante was not "concerned with maintaining his decades-long mumbling, semi-comatose 'crazy act,'" said prosecutors Daniel Dorsky, Paul Weinstein and Paul Schoeman.

Prosecutors said that last April 30, four days after the Durso case unfolded -- the same period that Joe Dinga was deluding himself about his legal problems -- Chin called his wife and asked if he had been indicted. When she said he hadn't but there were allegations he was "running" a "certain family," he said he was not running anything except "around the park." Then, prosecutors wrote, "Gigante declared 'call everyone' and hung up."

In a Dec. 12, 2000 conversation with her, Gigante related a discussion he had with a prison doctor earlier that day about a possible hernia that shows he "is fully conversant with technical medical terms," prosecutors said. They noted that in the following chat, Gigante, who is prone to say he doesn't remember something, told his wife that he really didn't recall when he underwent surgery at New York Hospital.

"I says no here's a bit of pain and I showed him where the pain is and I showed him where the scar is. I says that scar hurts too. So he says, well, he says, uh, when did you get operated on? I says uh, he says, did they operate over here? I looked at him and I says no doctor, they didn't operate. Look at my records. Oh. He looked he says you went to St. Vincent's Hospital to get operated on? St. Vincent's Hospital? 'No, I don't know, no, I don't know no Saint Vincent's Hospital.'The guy kept on looking. Oh, you went to New York Hospital. Says New York Hospital. 'I really, I really don't remember when I got operated on.' 'Oh, you don't remember? Well, tell me what's wrong with you.' 'What's wrong with me? (Gigante chuckled at this point). I ain't a doctor. I got pains. Sunday I got a pain in my, in my chest and I came here. Oh, yeah, you got operated in New York Hospital, when was that. I says I

"So, if it's not a rupture, what did he say it is," asked wife Olympia.
"He says it could be a, a torn ligament. What do I know. He's a D.O., he ain't a doctor. You understand?" said Gigante.
"Yes," she replied.
Gigante: "Then he told me that the heart doctor is a fine doctor. I says I didn't say he ain't. He says you, you know, your ejections through your groin on the echocardiogram, your ejection fraction is down to 35. Normal is 60.
"So?" she asked.
Gigante: So I says what do you want me to do? He says well I'm just telling you. I says then I'm in trouble. Oh no, he says, don't worry. He says you'll be alright. You're doing fine. I says thank you. I says but the pains in the chest don't mean nothing, doc? Take your Nitrol. I says I do but it gives me headaches. Uhh. Things like that, hon. I can't remember everything. He, he was nice. I ain't saying he wasn't there. He does the best he could.

On Christmas Day in 2000, "Gigante even poked fun at the crazy act that he

After wishing family members a "Merry Christmas," Gigante spoke to his girlfriend, Olympia Esposito, about one of his daughter's poor health.

Gigante: She can't talk.
Girlfriend: Why?
Gigante: I don't know. There's something, she says she's lost her voice. I says you, you got like me. (Gigante then mumbles intentionally as he does in his crazy act). She, she's alright.

Prosecutors also cited conversations Gigante had with cardiologist Bernard Wechsler and other family members in asking Brooklyn Federal Judge I. Leo Glasser to find Gigante mentally and physically fit for trial.

Attorney Gary Greenwald told the Associated Press that his client suffers from dementia, heart disease and schizophrenia and labeled the prosecutors' conclusions as meaningless and premature. Greenwald has until April 5 to convince Glasser.

Chin's nutty act is so tired it's giving us dementia.

Not Really For Idiots
Whether you're a Gang Land regular or an occasional visitor, you'll enjoy  "The Complete Idiot's Guide to The Mafia," a book I wrote for Alpha Books that was published in December. It's filled with real stuff about real wiseguys and insight about the ways that mobsters make their money. It's 343 pages of true stories of life and death, honor and betrayal. Get it at your local book store, or at Gang Land's favorite, Amazon.com, where the powers that be have knocked the price down to $13.26, so low I am concerned that the Godfather of online booksellers has forgotten about my end.  If you haven't gotten one yet, and believe in long shots, our friends at The Smoking Gun have a handful they are raffling away.