Sept. 22, 1997 THE FAT LADY HAS SUNG
If you were 69 years old, would you rather do 21 to 27 years in a federal prison, or up to 85 years in a psychiatric ward? Does 262 months to 327 months in a prison, or a psychiatric ward sound any better? If you pretended to be crazy for 30 years, would it be easier to spend the time in a mental ward with really crazy people than in a regular prison with drug dealers and killers, bank robbers and gangsters? If you really were crazy, would it matter one way or the other? Alas, there are no pleasant alternatives for Vincent (Chin) Gigante as the convicted Genovese crime boss awaits his scheduled Nov. 6 sentencing by Brooklyn Federal Judge Jack Weinstein for his conviction for racketeering. Weinstein set a tentative date last week at a session in which defense attorneys and federal prosecutor Daniel Dorsky argued the merits of a psychiatric report by prison doctors that Gigante lawyer Michael Marinaccio aptly described as "schizophrenic." On the one hand, doctors at the federal prison in Butner, N.C. found that Gigante suffers from "provisional dementia." On the other, they said Gigante showed symptons "consistent with a diagnosis of malingering." At this point, however, none of that stuff - nor the Oct. 29 competency hearing that Weinstein scheduled - means very much, since Weinstein found Gigante competent to stand trial, and the judge stressed that fact the day the jury pronounced him guilty. If Gigante is mentally unfit to be sentenced to prison, he'll be sent to a mental ward until he recovers, when he'll be sent to a prison. The most time he could do a mental facility, said Weinstein, was 85 years. For Chin Gigante, it's all over but the shouting. The Neverending Soap Opera is over.
After spending three plus years in a special prison unit for cooperating witnesses, Casso's been transferred to a prison without such a unit, and he's housed in virtual solitary confinement, sometimes for up to 24 hours a day. This is because some guys in the prison are former Luchese mobsters who Casso informed about, and they would likely kill him if he were in general population with them. Casso's lawyers understand the safety issue, but wondered whether it really was advisable to keep Casso there, since some of his old friends work in the kitchen, or have friends who do, and they could easily poison him. In addition, the lawyers say his current accomodations make it very difficult for them to discuss his claims with him, and adequately prepare his response to government allegations that he has breached his agreement and deserves no credit for his cooperation. Brooklyn Federal Judge Frederic Block will have to decide whether Casso deserves special consideration for his years of cooperation, or if the government is within its rights to breach the cooperation agreement. Last week, Block did not seem overly concerned about Casso's immediate problem, telling prosecutors to give Casso's lawyers the discovery documents they need, and telling the lawyers to file their papers by Oct. 9. Casso should have thought about these onerous possibilities when he was smuggling contraband into his witness unit, or assaulting inmates who informed on him. He certainly should have thought about how the government would react when he accused two of their top turncoat witnesses of lying at the Gigante trial. Casso, who complained to Gang Land last month that he was being railroaded, is certainly not in a great situation, facing the rest of his life in solitary confinement, with men who want to kill him cooking his meals. Maybe Casso should consider a hunger strike.
ASK ANDY
"By the late 1950's, Papalia used these connections to get heavily involved in the heroin trade, but drugs were not Papalia's only interest. During this era. Papalia tried to muscle in on a rich independent gambling operator named Max Bluestein. After various "peaceful" methods failed, Bluestein was viciously beaten in a public place. The resultant media uproar created great police pressure on Papalia and his friends. Shortly thereafter Papalia was arrested for his heroin activities, convicted, and was sentenced to ten years. His absence from Ontario streets gave Paul Volpe an opportunity to increase his power. Papalia would resent this. "Volpe blossomed during Papalia's absence. He became involved in gambling operations in Haiti with a major Bonanno gangster, stuck his nose into Ontario's building industry and by the 1980's was seriously investing in real estate, especially in Atlantic City, New Jersey which had just received permission to have legal gambling. Volpe's success apparently created some jealousy, especially when he was disinclined to share it with others. "Volpe and Papalia became household names in Canada when they were featured in a ground breaking series of organized crime exposes by the Canadian Broadcasting Company titled "Connections." Volpe was "stung" twice by the Connections investigators and a broadcast of filmed interviews were devastating to his reputation. Papalia, on the other hand came across as everyone's stereotype of a mobster. Filmed on the street as he exited from a court case involving extortion, Papalia spit, swore and threatened the cameraman in an incredible scene. Finally, one of Papalia's punks attacked and kicked the cameraman. Contrary to Volpe, Papalia looked like someone to avoid at all cost. "In 1983, Volpe was murdered and left in the trunk of a car at Toronto airport. To date, no one has been charged in the case. Papalia was now unquestionably Buffalo's main man in Ontario. For the next fourteen years he remained a prime organized figure in the province. He did not "control" all organized crime in southern Ontario, however. "When Papalia was gunned down in May, most law enforcement officials said they had no idea who was behind the rubout. Papalia's top associate, Carmen Barillaro, was also killed a few weeks later. Antonio Nicaso, who has written extensively on the mob, speculates that the two killings are an indication that the Canadian gangsters are asserting their independence from the declining Cosa Nostra Families. Others have suggested that these killings are simply "house cleaning" by the Buffalo Family. The truth probably lies somewhere between these two positions. The "connections" between a soldier or capo and his superiors in a LCN family are always fragile. These guys rarely keep written records and they often short change each other, of either money or the details of what they are doing. Often, a jealous rival will "rat out" (tell) this double dealing to the boss and sometimes the "guilty" party gets killed. As federal scrutiny of LCN activities increased in the 1980's, the "connections" in the organizations weakened. Many convictions also severed personal criminal ties. It was now tempting to "go off on your own" - hold out on the family's share. This dramatically increased the dangers of being exposed. Perhaps this is what happened to Papalia. Becoming a little too independent may have made a house cleaning necessary."
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By Jerry
Capeci
Speaking about bad situations, how'd you like to be in former Luchese underboss
Anthony (Gaspipe) Casso's shoes these days.
We've cut Andy down to size a little, but the big guy is
back for his second season as Gang Land's man in the know. This week he answers a query
about mob activity in Canada from Dan, a Gang Land follower from Guelph, and discusses the
rubout of Buffalo mobster John (Johnny Pops) Papalia last Spring.
"Lead
for nearly 50 years by Stefano Magaddino, the Buffalo Cosa Nostra Family included southern
Ontario in its sphere of influence," says Andy. "John (Johnny Pops) Papalia
(left) and Paul Volpe were Buffalo's two main representatives there. Papalia's father was
a bootlegger, and John also followed the criminal path. Although he was a member of the
Buffalo family, Papalia had excellent relations with the Montreal faction of the Bonanno
organization led by Carmine Galante and Vic Cotroni. These men were important connections
and the Hamilton mobster had tremendous influence throughout the region.
