Cullotta: The Life of a Chicago Criminal, Las Vegas Mobster and Government Witness (27 page)

Frank laughed. First Tony was becoming paranoid, and now Eileen. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. You know that, don’t you?”

“Laugh all you want, but I’ve got a feeling Tony wants you dead. I can understand that you’re blinded by your friendship for him. But think about what I’m telling you, please.”

“Sure, I’ll think about it,” he promised.

Frank had to admit to himself that Tony got under his skin now and then and had lied to him. Tony had also made some questionable decisions lately, like getting taken in by Romano and ordering the Lisner hit without Chicago’s approval. Tony was going through some tough times; so was Frank. But they’d been friends for years and they still were. He’d never turn on Tony and was sure Tony felt the same. He dismissed Eileen’s concerns as resentment over his friendship with Tony.

The phone rang again about an hour later. It was Tony wanting to know what Frank was doing and if he could come out for another meeting at the bar. After Frank hung up he said, “That was Tony. I’m going back out for a while.”

“Frank, he was checking to see if you were dead or alive. Can’t you see that? You make sure you tell Tony that I know about the meeting and if anything happens to you, I’ll know who was responsible.”

For the second time that night Frank laughed at his wife, then left again for My Place. When he met with Tony, he mentioned the shooting at his apartment building. “Well, imagine that,” Tony deadpanned.

On April 20, 1982, Frank Cullotta was convicted of possession of stolen property, in the case of emptying the absent couple’s home to furnish his own. Because of his prior felony convictions, he was facing a potential sentence of life in prison. A number of unresolved charges were hanging over his head as well. In addition, Tony Spilotro had been noticeably slow in lending a helping hand as Frank’s legal problems grew. He was even less enthusiastic after the conviction of his right-hand man.

Frank had gone into the courtroom with a bad feeling about the outcome, but he did have one ace up his sleeve. During the defense portion of the case, he had his lawyer, John Momot, put on a surprise witness: Eileen’s cousin. He testified that he received the stolen furniture and gave it to Frank and Eileen. In theory, if Frank didn’t know the furnishings were hot, he’d be innocent of the charge. The jury was apparently unconvinced. They were out for only five hours before returning the guilty verdict.

On one hand, Frank felt like a deflated balloon. On the other, it seemed like a great weight was off his back. Much of the uncertainty in his life had been lifted. Even though he still had other charges hanging over him, he was at peace, in a way. And in that frame of mind, he started thinking. He thought about Tony, about the shooting at the apartment next door, and about Jerry Lisner. He thought about the Outfit guys he talked with when he was back in Chicago, how messed up everything had been in Vegas for a long time, and how it kept getting worse.

Frank called a lawyer to appeal his conviction. The attorney said he’d appeal, but only if Frank came up with $10,000. Frank said he was almost broke and told the lawyer that he’d have to get the money from Tony. When the lawyer got back to Frank, he said Tony was avoiding him and not returning his calls. The attorney finally caught up with him, but Tony would only kick in six thousand; Eileen had to come up with the other four.

Frank started thinking some more. He’d been doing all the giving and Tony had been doing the taking. Getting any money out of him for bonds or lawyers was like pulling teeth. He now knew that something was seriously wrong in his world. And he didn’t like it one bit. For the first time since hooking up with Tony in Vegas, Frank Cullotta started thinking for himself.

And then Eileen told him that Herb Blitzstein wanted her to give him back her gold cross. Frank had gotten it from the Gold Rush and given it to her as a present. And now, with Frank behind bars and fighting for his life, Blitzstein wanted the damn thing back. Frank was furious. With all Tony’s money, including hundreds of thousands that Frank had handed over, now they wanted his wife’s gold cross? Frank asked himself:
Are they setting me up? Will they be glad to get rid of me?

With the money situation becoming critical, Frank told Eileen to ask Tony for a job. Tony told her, “Gee, I don’t know what I can do for you right now.” He offered to see if he could get her a job at a restaurant about thirty miles outside of town. This further incensed Frank. Here was the guy who ran Las Vegas and that was the best he could do?

The more he thought about it, the more Frank began to believe Tony was trying to set him up. Spilotro was the King of the Strip, the mob’s man in Vegas. He had the world by the balls, but had gone and fucked it all up. It made sense that he’d be looking for a fall guy to lay everything off on. Frank could imagine the word getting back to Chicago: Cullotta is out of control and doing his own thing. He’s the one hitting people without getting approval.

Maybe that was why Tony hadn’t helped Frank with his bonds and legal fees. He’d already decided to throw him to the wolves.

As he searched his memory, he realized the signs had been there all along. Eileen had seen them; he’d chosen to ignore them. But no longer. He was now a believer in his wife’s intuition. And if he and Eileen were right, he was in a tough goddamn spot.

Frank and Tony weren’t the only ones with contacts in Chicago. The FBI also had their sources of information and they learned that Frank and Eileen’s fears were real; a contract on Frank had, in fact, been authorized.

On April 30 the FBI’s Chicago agents informed their Las Vegas colleagues that the Outfit had approved a contract on Frank Cullotta. The FBI had a policy that if they became aware someone’s life was in danger, they had to inform that person, regardless of who he was or what they thought of him. Charlie Parsons called the gangster’s lawyer. He told him he had some very important information regarding his client and asked for a meeting at the jail that afternoon.

When Parsons got to the jail, he told Frank and the lawyer that it had been a long week and he’d be brief. And then he made his announcement. “We’ve received credible information that the Chicago Outfit has authorized a contract on Frank.” He left immediately afterward. His matter-of-fact delivery was intentional, designed to get Frank’s attention.

For Frank, the agent’s visit served as confirmation of what, in his heart, he already knew. He thought long and hard about his situation over the weekend. By Monday morning, he’d made his decision. He called the FBI office and spoke with Parsons. “This is Frank Cullotta. I want to talk with you.”

“Don’t say anything on the phone,” Parsons said. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

With that phone call, Frank Cullotta’s life took yet another turn, one he never thought possible. The man whom the cops were never able to intimidate or beat information out of was about to become a cooperating government witness.

Part Three

Witness Protection and Beyond

Obtaining the cooperation of an insider can be a huge boon to law-enforcement officers and prosecutors. Such witnesses can also be worth little or nothing. Their value depends on many things, including how much they know, what they’re willing to tell, their honesty and credibility in regard to the information they provide, and what the government must give them in return for their assistance.

Charlie Parsons knew all of that when he received the call from Frank Cullotta on the morning of May 3, 1982. Cullotta was certainly in a position to know a lot. But how much would he be willing to tell and how candid would he be? Those questions and many others needed to be answered before Frank’s potential benefit to the government could be determined.

The first step in evaluating the possible new ally was to have a face-to-face meeting and get some cards on the table. Parsons hung up the phone and headed for the jail.

• • •

For Frank, what he’d made up his mind to do ran contrary to the way he’d led his life for more than 30 years, since his days as a schoolboy tough guy and petty thief. The law had always been his enemy. The code of honor he lived by required loyalty to his crew. And he never, no matter what, gave his friends up to the cops. Suddenly, he found himself ready to do a complete reversal. His circumstances, however, dictated that course of action as a method of survival for himself and his family. There were no other realistic options. As Frank awaited the arrival of Charlie Parsons, he knew the immediate road ahead would neither be easy nor pleasant for him.

When Parsons got to the jail, he told Frank he wasn’t going to read him his rights. He said he wasn’t sure if Frank really knew anything and wanted to begin with an off-the-record conversation. First they talked about Frank’s lawyer situation. Parsons recommended that Frank drop John Momot and retain a public defender who would have no ties to other organized-crime figures. After that Parsons pulled out a yellow legal pad and started asking questions. Frank spoke and Parsons wrote. Finally, they discussed the Witness Protection Program.

“I’ve got to be honest with you, Frank. Most people who go into it don’t like it, but participation in the program is entirely up to you,” the agent said.

Frank shrugged. “I know how these people think and work. They’re going to want to kill me, and if they can’t do that they’ll try to intimidate me. I want me and my family to go into that program.”

This session was just the beginning. As tough as it was to face, the debriefing process that followed seemed like it would never end. But Frank had known what he was in for and that it had to start somewhere.

The way was now open for the law to turn the tide in its favor in the war against Tony Spilotro and his associates. It didn’t happen overnight, though. Progress had to be made one small step at a time.

In order to get the ball rolling, Frank needed to switch lawyers. That meant replacing John Momot, who would likely represent some of the people Frank might have to testify against. It was a task he had to perform himself. After the initial meeting with Charlie Parsons, he summoned Momot to the jail to break the news that changes were being made.

When Momot came to see him, Frank told him to sit down, because he had something important to tell him. Frank said, “John, this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to tell anybody in my life. Only one person knows what I’m about to say and he’s with the FBI, so you probably know where I’m coming from. Tony has done me wrong and I’ve rolled over. I’m deeply hurt by the way he’s treated me and what he’s done to me. The worst that can happen to him is some years in prison. I’ll either be in jail the rest of my life or take a bullet in my head. Tony has had this all planned. I’d prefer it if you didn’t represent me.”

Momot was in shock. With tears in his eyes, he asked, “What did they [the cops] do to you? Did they torture you?”

“No, they haven’t done anything to me. But Tony has. He deceived me and lied to me to protect his own ass. Now he wants me dead. This is the decision I’ve made and nothing can possibly change it. There’s no turning back.”

Momot appeared stunned. But he accepted Frank’s decision and left the meeting without trying to talk him out of it. The lawyer issue over with, Frank contacted his wife, mother, and brother. He told each of them what was going on and why.

Eileen asked, “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?” “There’s no other choice; this is the only way. I’ve already made arrangements for you and the kids to go into the Witness Protection Program; I’ll join you later. If you don’t want to go, if you want to stay behind, I’ll understand.”

She said, “I’m with you until the end. Tony wants to hurt you and I know you’re doing what you have to do. I’m on your side.” Frank’s mother was concerned for his safety and about her other son. She also wondered if someone had forced Frank into his decision. He told her it was entirely his own choice. He assured her that he knew how the mob operated and that Joey would not be in any physical danger.

Frank told his brother that he’d probably lose a lot of friends when the word got out. “I’m sorry about that, Joey, but this is something I have to do.”

Joey said, “You raised me right. It’s your decision and I’ll always be proud of you. You’ll always be my big brother.”

Frank Cullotta wasn’t the first mobster to switch sides and he wouldn’t be the last. Among those who preceded him were Joe Valachi and Aladena “Jimmy the Weasel” Fratiano. They and others like them were often referred to as “turncoats” or “rats.”

Joe Valachi was a soldier within New York City’s Genovese crime family. His main duties for the family were as a driver, carting upper-echelon mobsters around to their various meetings and other functions. The assignment put him in a position to know a lot about the family’s businesses and how they operated.

In 1962, both Valachi and his boss, Vito Genovese, were serving time in prison after being convicted of heroin trafficking. The story goes that Genovese believed Valachi had ratted on him in return for a lighter sentence. That August, Valachi killed another inmate whom he mistakenly thought was going to murder him on Genovese’s behalf.

In October 1963, Valachi burst upon the national scene when he voluntarily testified before Senator John McClellan’s congressional committee on organized crime. The precise motive for his decision to cooperate is unknown. He could have been seeking to avoid the death penalty for killing his fellow prisoner or simply doing what he felt was his civic duty.

Whatever the reason, Valachi’s testimony, which was broadcast live on radio and television, raised the eyebrows of the politicians, law-enforcement authorities, and general public. For the first time, a mob insider told America that the Mafia existed right in the United States. Up until then, even noted lawmen such as FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover had refused to even admit there was such a thing as organized crime. He used the phrase
cosa nostra
, meaning “our thing,” which caught on and soon became a household term. The witness described mob rituals, such as the ceremony of becoming a “made man,” to his stunned listeners. He identified the major crime families and named many of their top members.