Surviving the Mob (33 page)

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Authors: Dennis Griffin

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Following his conviction, Yannotti filed an appeal. One of his complaints was that Andrew’s testimony at trial was inappropriately allowed into evidence. The United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit heard the case in August 2007. The decision was rendered in September 2008.

Per Federal Rules of Evidence 701, three conditions must be met in order to allow lay testimony into evidence: It must be rationally based on the perception of the witness, helpful to a clear understanding of the witness’ testimony or the determination of a fact in issue, and not based on scientific, technical, or other specialized knowledge.

The Court ruled that Andrew’s testimony met all three of those conditions and the decision by the trial court to allow his testimony was affirmed.

 

25

Closing in on Nicky

February 2008 was not a good month for Nicky Corozzo. He was one of 26 people indicted in Queens County, resulting from a multi-year investigation called Operation Touch-back. The 29 counts in the indictment focused primarily on illegal gambling. At the same time, the feds announced that Nicky was also named in the indictment arising from their Operation Old Bridge investigation. Old Bridge was massive in scope, involving the FBI and police in Italy. The federal allegations included myriad racketeering charges, the murders of Robert Arena and Thomas Maranga among them.

The February 7
th
Queens County indictment was particularly interesting, because it detailed the Gambino gambling setup, much of which involved online betting. It appeared Nicky and his boys had gone high-tech.

The indictment was on charges of operating highly sophisticated illegal-gambling enterprises in Queens County and elsewhere that booked nearly $10 million in wagers over a two-year period on professional and college basketball and football, professional baseball and hockey, and other sporting events. Twenty of the defendants were in custody and six were being sought. Nicky Corozzo was one of the latter six.

The defendants were alleged to have gone online, supplementing traditional wire-room and street-corner bookie
operations with offshore-based Internet websites designed for sports betting and casino-style gambling. Toll-free telephone numbers were established, through which numerous gambling accounts were managed and out of which criminal proceeds were collected and distributed throughout the New York City metropolitan area. The computerized wire rooms operated around the clock and handled a large volume of bettors at any one time, allowing the defendants to increase their illicit profits without having to bother with the time-consuming record-keeping aspects of a more traditional paper-based bookmaking operation. The Gambino crime family allegedly took in millions of dollars each year through the illegal gambling scheme.

The defendants were charged with enterprise corruption—a violation of New York State’s Organized Crime Control Act—as well as promoting gambling, criminal usury, grand larceny, and conspiracy. They faced up to 25 years in prison if convicted.

The specifics of the indictment filed in Queens County Supreme Court alleged that the gambling ring promoted illegal sports betting in Queens County and elsewhere and that the defendants were involved in traditional gambling wire rooms located at 85-50 Forest Parkway in Woodhaven, as well as nontraditional computerized wire rooms in Costa Rica.

Six of the defendants were also being sued civilly and named as respondents in a $9.8 million civil-forfeiture action filed in Queens Supreme Court by the District Attorney’s Special Proceedings Bureau, which alleged that they engaged in a criminal enterprise that promoted illegal-gambling activities and generated illegal wages.

The criminal enterprise was generally known as the “Nicky Corozzo Crew of the Gambino Crime Family” and allegedly handled thousands of wagers each month that generated
hundreds of thousands of dollars in monthly gross revenue, or approximately $9.8 million between November 6, 2005, and January 8, 2008.

Authorities believed the operation relied on modern technology, including toll-free telephone numbers and four known gambling websites, BETMSG.com; BETALLSPORTS.com; BETWSI.com; and BETOFFSHORE.net, which served as computerized wire rooms through which the enterprise conducted much of its illegal gambling activity. Account information was typically stored on computer servers outside the United States—often in such Central American countries as Costa Rica—which “bounced” their data through a series of server nodes in efforts to evade law-enforcement detection through traditional methods.

According to the indictment, Nicholas Corozzo was the boss of the enterprise. He controlled and oversaw the entire operation and profited from each criminal pursuit by the other members. Corozzo was also alleged to have benefited from a prostitution ring to the tune of $500 per week.

Nick was in big trouble. When his daughter tipped him off that the law was scooping up his co-defendants, he did what Andrew had done 12 years earlier. He went on the lam.

AMW JOINS THE MANHUNT

On May 17, just over three months after Nicky went on the run, “America’s Most Wanted” profiled him on its TV show. Its report recapped his criminal history and the pending charges. The heat was on Nick big time.

And “AMW” cameras were on hand 12 days later when, with his lawyer by his side, an exhausted-looking Nicky Corozzo surrendered to authorities on a street corner outside the FBI’s office in lower Manhattan. At his arraignment, Nicky pled guilty to all charges and was ordered held without bail.

VINDICATION

On August 14, 2008, Nick Corozzo avoided a jury trial by pleading guilty to ordering the January 26, 1996, murder of Robert Arena, which also resulted in the death of Thomas Maranga. Andrew was on an airplane on the way to testify against Nick when the deal was made.

“It happened while I was in flight,” Andrew remembers. “When I landed, I was told that Nicky’s defense team had worked out a deal with the U.S. Attorney. Nicky pled guilty to being part of the conspiracy to murder Robert and Thomas. Hearing that was music to my ears. After so many years of being called a liar and all the denials by Nicky and his attorneys, I was finally vindicated. And he had been exposed for the liar he is.”

THE ACCOUNTING

On April 17, 2009, Nicky Corozzo was sentenced to 13½ years in federal prison for his role in the Arena and Maranga murders.

In July 2008, he had pled guilty to the state enterprise corruption charges. On April 28, 2009, he was sentenced to a prison term of 4½ to 13½ years on those charges.

Corozzo is serving the sentences concurrently at a federal correctional facility. His projected release date is March 2, 2020, two weeks before his 80
th
birthday.

 

26

Lessons

When Andrew and I began writing this book, he was emphatic about one of the things he wanted to accomplish. His primary goal was to get the word out to young men, who might be considering a life of crime, that they’d be making a very bad mistake. He hoped that learning what he’d gone through would cause them to think twice before going down that road.

In closing, he wants to reiterate in his own words the lessons he learned while living the life. And he hopes those lessons will discourage others from following in his footsteps.

“Being an organized-crime guy is for losers. I say that based on my own experience. When I got into the life, I was excited. I thought I was part of something—a family that took care of its own. Everybody looked out for each other and nobody would dare fuck with us. That’s what I thought. I was wrong.

“For fifteen years, I was a predator. Everybody was a potential victim to me. From the time I got up in the morning until I went to sleep at night, I planned, plotted, and schemed how I could take advantage of people. If I could get
their money through fraud, I would. If I could get it through robbery or burglary, I would. And if I could get it through violence or the threat of violence, I would.

“I made a lot of money during those years. I also made a lot of money for my boss, Nicky Corozzo, and the Gambino crime family. To make that money, I hurt an awful lot of people. They weren’t all victims of my crimes either. Some of them were the people who cared about me the most, who loved me. But I didn’t think about that then. I hurt virtually everyone I came in contact with physically, financially, or emotionally.

“Do you know what I ended up with when it all came crashing down? Nothing. I didn’t have a goddamn dime. Nicky and some lawyers did okay on me. But it turned out that I hurt all those people for nothing. When the end came I was broke, facing decades in prison and under a death sentence from a couple of organized-crime families. A real success story, huh?

“If that isn’t a turn-off, try this. When I was still in the life, but having second thoughts, my father wanted to make a point. He asked me to write down my ten closest friends in the life. After I did that, he told me to write what each one was doing then. Out of the ten, six were in prison and four were dead. I guess you could call that a one hundred percent failure rate.

“With all those bad things I did, there was one decision I made that I know was right. When I got the green light to kill my brother-in-law, when I held the power of life and death over him, I let him live. My niece has a father and that’s the way it should be. So that was one choice that I’ll never regret making.

“That aside, I’m alive and free. So what am I complaining about, you ask? First, I’m not complaining. I’m stating facts. And having my life and freedom carries costs that can’t be
ignored. I was born Andrew DiDonato and he no longer exists. I haven’t seen my son or family in years and don’t know if or when I’ll see them again. Yes, I’m alive. But there’s a big hole inside of me.

“I’m alive because I was lucky—very lucky. I was shot at a few times by guys with bad aims. And I got into Witness Protection before my former colleagues could get me. If not for that good fortune—or divine intervention—we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

“And I owe my freedom to luck or fate too. I shot several people, but none of them died. I shot Ralph Burzo in the head and the bullet struck a bone and splintered. When I was going to finish him off, Sandra Raiola was there staring at me, so I couldn’t. Somebody was watching over Burzo or me. Either way, it turned out to be a blessing.

“When Mike Yannotti failed to kill Sammy Karkis, I was pissed off. But Nicky actually did me a favor by stopping the hit. If it had gone through, there’s a good chance I could have been charged with conspiracy to commit murder and I might still be locked up. And by the time I was in a position to kill Sammy myself, other circumstances intervened and I didn’t. I know that he has a young daughter today and I feel good about that.

“When I look back at it, I realize how many times I came close to becoming a murderer. And each time a matter of inches—or with Burzo a fraction of an inch—resulted in my victim’s wounds being non-fatal.

“And it wasn’t just the shootings. In 1984 when we blew up the cars in the garage of that house Vic Amuso’s nephew was staying in, nobody inside got killed. What about the night I was driving the Mercedes shell and being chased by the cops? I ran every traffic light and made it through all those intersections doing over a hundred miles an hour and nobody died or even got hurt. But if they had—especially
some innocent motorists—I’d have been responsible.

“So yeah, I was damn lucky. I know it and I thank God for it every day.

“If you think joining the Mob means you’re entering a life of honor, you’d better think again. It ain’t like what you might see on television or in the movies. That’s right, in today’s Mob, that old saying about honor among thieves is a lot of bullshit, trust me.

“Let’s take the leadership. When I was a kid, I thought the bosses walked on water. They were legends in the neighborhood. But when I was in prison, several of them were in there with me. I even shared a cell with a couple. I’m telling you straight that most of the Mob icons I met behind bars didn’t match their street reputations. When it came to winning their criminal cases, they were willing to throw anybody and everybody under the bus to beat the rap. Real standup guys.

“It’s very important that you understand this. In today’s Mob, the money and loyalty go from the bottom up. They don’t come back down to the guys on the street. If you get pinched and have to do some time, don’t count on your crime family to take care of your real family.

“Look what they did to Fat Sal. He was loyal and one hell of an earner. They forgot about him for two years while he was locked up. And then when they were worried about Sal flipping, they sent him fifty fuckin’ bucks for his commissary! He kicked a lot of money up to these guys and that’s how they thanked him. That shows the definition of loyalty from the bosses’ perspective.

“So if you take the organized-crime route, the people you’ll be associating with won’t be true friends. The bosses will use you to make themselves rich and do their dirty work. They’ll pick your bones clean. And in the life you’re only as good as your last earn. So if you stop producing, you’ll become expendable.

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