brother Gene, five years younger. The brothers were similar, though Gene had a little less of all of John’s traits, good and bad. It was a reason they quarreled a lot, but not now.
“Isn’t it a shame that we lost him?” Gene said. “Isn’t it a shame?”
John agreed that it was and the two brothers speculated about the possible culprits.
“Them kids ain’t got the smarts for that,” Gene said about one unidentified group. John said the same about another unspecified party, before wondering:
“You know who it might be? That Irish mob.”
Gotti was referring to the Westies, a notorious gang of Irish-American thugs from the hardscrabble Hell’s Kitchen area on the West Side of Manhattan. In the past, some Westies had been employed by Paul Castellano to kill people; in the near future, Kevin Kelly, a 31-year-old Westie, would be indicted in the shooting of the carpenters’ union official Gotti had complained about. Presently, they were the target of many investigations and trials. Their number-two man had “rolled over” and become a federal witness.
In time, it became clear that only those responsible knew who blew up DeCicco; for the second time in five months, talk of war subsided. And so the Zips went back to the asphalt trucks and the Westies went into hiding or jail. The specter of jail soon surpassed DeCicco in the worry department of John Gotti’s mind.
6
WE’RE READY FOR FREDDY
E UGENE H. NICKERSON was an extremely patient judge, and determined to move forward in the Gotti trial despite all of the ex-parte distractions.
For two weeks after the DeCicco murder, he kept trying to screen candidates—more than 200—for the juror pool. At one point, he had to take nine steps backward and eliminate those who admitted talking about the case among themselves. Finally, on April 28, citing all the contaminating publicity, he threw in the gavel and delayed the trial until August, when he said he would adopt a more elaborate screening process and consider seating jurors whose identities would be kept secret.
“I’ll get banged around some more with this,” Gotti said afterward.
It was an accurate prediction. That same day, assistant U.S. attorney Diane Giacalone said she would ask the judge to revoke the bail of John and Gene Gotti and two other defendants—a move she had been contemplating for several days.
Not just the defendants were shocked by her announcement. Upstate in White Plains, where the state Organized Crime Task Force had its main office, many agents were upset—if Gotti were in jail, he wouldn’t be talking on the Nice N EZ bug, which they felt was certain to produce indictable crimes, eventually.
Giacalone was not officially aware of the bug or tap, but she and co-prosecutor John Gleeson suspected that the state agency had something cooking on Gotti because of the cautious way it had responded to her during her investigation. Still, Giacalone and her boss, Reena Raggi, then the interim U.S. attorney in Brooklyn and soon to be its first woman federal judge, believed they had to immobilize Gotti, for fear that witnesses would be located and intimidated while the trial was delayed.
Hearings on Giacalone’s bail-revocation motion were held in early May. She had to show “probable cause” to believe that Gotti violated his bail by committing any local, state, or federal crime. She attacked on three grounds: Gotti had continued to participate in the criminal affairs of the Gambino Family; he attempted to intimidate a federal witness, Dennis Quirk, of the court officers association; and he did intimidate a state witness, Romual Piecyk.
Giacalone called twelve witnesses to the stand, including local and federal organized crime experts, the detectives and cops who surveilled Gotti during his takeover or were involved in the Piecyk incident, and Dennis Quirk. The state Task Force tapes remained secret and unavailable to her.
Surprise testimony about the Piecyk matter came
“Isn’t it a shame that we lost him?” Gene said. “Isn’t it a shame?”
John agreed that it was and the two brothers speculated about the possible culprits.
“Them kids ain’t got the smarts for that,” Gene said about one unidentified group. John said the same about another unspecified party, before wondering:
“You know who it might be? That Irish mob.”
Gotti was referring to the Westies, a notorious gang of Irish-American thugs from the hardscrabble Hell’s Kitchen area on the West Side of Manhattan. In the past, some Westies had been employed by Paul Castellano to kill people; in the near future, Kevin Kelly, a 31-year-old Westie, would be indicted in the shooting of the carpenters’ union official Gotti had complained about. Presently, they were the target of many investigations and trials. Their number-two man had “rolled over” and become a federal witness.
In time, it became clear that only those responsible knew who blew up DeCicco; for the second time in five months, talk of war subsided. And so the Zips went back to the asphalt trucks and the Westies went into hiding or jail. The specter of jail soon surpassed DeCicco in the worry department of John Gotti’s mind.
6
WE’RE READY FOR FREDDY
E UGENE H. NICKERSON was an extremely patient judge, and determined to move forward in the Gotti trial despite all of the ex-parte distractions.
For two weeks after the DeCicco murder, he kept trying to screen candidates—more than 200—for the juror pool. At one point, he had to take nine steps backward and eliminate those who admitted talking about the case among themselves. Finally, on April 28, citing all the contaminating publicity, he threw in the gavel and delayed the trial until August, when he said he would adopt a more elaborate screening process and consider seating jurors whose identities would be kept secret.
“I’ll get banged around some more with this,” Gotti said afterward.
It was an accurate prediction. That same day, assistant U.S. attorney Diane Giacalone said she would ask the judge to revoke the bail of John and Gene Gotti and two other defendants—a move she had been contemplating for several days.
Not just the defendants were shocked by her announcement. Upstate in White Plains, where the state Organized Crime Task Force had its main office, many agents were upset—if Gotti were in jail, he wouldn’t be talking on the Nice N EZ bug, which they felt was certain to produce indictable crimes, eventually.
Giacalone was not officially aware of the bug or tap, but she and co-prosecutor John Gleeson suspected that the state agency had something cooking on Gotti because of the cautious way it had responded to her during her investigation. Still, Giacalone and her boss, Reena Raggi, then the interim U.S. attorney in Brooklyn and soon to be its first woman federal judge, believed they had to immobilize Gotti, for fear that witnesses would be located and intimidated while the trial was delayed.
Hearings on Giacalone’s bail-revocation motion were held in early May. She had to show “probable cause” to believe that Gotti violated his bail by committing any local, state, or federal crime. She attacked on three grounds: Gotti had continued to participate in the criminal affairs of the Gambino Family; he attempted to intimidate a federal witness, Dennis Quirk, of the court officers association; and he did intimidate a state witness, Romual Piecyk.
Giacalone called twelve witnesses to the stand, including local and federal organized crime experts, the detectives and cops who surveilled Gotti during his takeover or were involved in the Piecyk incident, and Dennis Quirk. The state Task Force tapes remained secret and unavailable to her.
Surprise testimony about the Piecyk matter came
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