Mario Rainone linked to rash of residential crimes

Mobster Mario Rainone has crossed both sides of the law enough times, it is a wonder his legs aren't permanently tangled.

After a spasmodic career as both a criminal and a government witness, Mr. Rainone, 54, is once again sitting in jail. This time Rainone is in the Lake County lock-up on one count of residential burglary and on an outstanding retail theft warrant from South Barrington.
For years, the beefy hoodlum was considered a prime "go-to" guy for the Chicago Outfit's Rainone thanks Chuck Goudie
In the 1980's, when Mob bosses needed a job handled quickly and efficiently, Rainone was often enlisted

He was especially adept at collecting unpaid debts, whether as a result of Mob juice loans or illegal gambling debts.

Among the legends of Mario Rainone is the time he informed a shakedown target that his family would pay if he didn't. The old man asked Rainone exactly what he meant. Rainone told the elderly extortion victim that if the debt wasn't handed over, he would kill his children and plant their heads in his front yard. The man settled up.

Rainone quit Organized Crime in late 1989, when he was deployed to murder a wayward mobster. As he prepared to take up a position for the hit, Rainone realized that he was actually the intended target. Rather than waiting to be whacked, Rainone escaped to his truck and sped away. He went straight to the FBI in Chicago and spilled his story. Agents convinced him that he could only help himself by wearing a wire and working undercover against his one-time Mob bosses.

Rainone got a couple of wise-guys on tape but his cooperation was short-lived. He stopped helping the FBI in November, 1989 when a his mother's front stoop was blown up.
The message-bombing freaked Rainone, who felt it was better that he spend a stretch in prison rather than his mother end up in pieces on her porch.

So he gave up witness protection and in 1992 pleaded guilty to extortion and racketeering. He was sentenced to nearly 18 years and released in 2006.
Rainone, last known to reside in Bloomingdale, was arrested on Friday by Lincolnshire police and charged with the Feb 12 burglary of a home in the Trafalgar square subdivision. Also charged as an accomplice was Vincent T. Forliano, 39, of Addison.

Both men are being held on $500,000 bond. Rainone is schedule to appear in Lake County Court Tuesday at 9am. Forliano is due in court on Friday at 9am. The duo has been under investigation by several northwest suburban police departments in connection with a string of home invasions.

Other than the alleged burglary business, the connect between Rainone and Forliano is not known. Mobwatchers say if the accused break-in artists were not paying a kick-back to the Outfit, known as "tribute" or "street-tax," Rainone could once again find himself on short hit-list.

Liborio Bellomo

Liborio Bellomo

Liborio "Barney" Salvatore Bellomo (born January 8, 1957) is a high ranking caporegime, or captain, and one time acting boss of the Genovese crime family of New York City. Originally from Corleone, Sicily he is one of the fastest rising mafia members in the U.S today, becoming a Capo in his mid twenties. He was considered Vincent Gigante's logical successor as boss of the Genovese family until he was sent to prison in 1996, now out on parole his current status in the Genovese family is yet to be determined. He currently has a residence in Pelham Manor, New York Bellomo stands at 6'4". Bellomo can speak both Italian and English languages. He spent a year studying at Monsignor Scanlon's Business School in the Bronx, and then a year studying mortuary science but later attended University of Paris. It is unknown if he graduated with a diploma or certificate at this university. However, in 1977, at the age of 20 Bellomo was inducted into the powerful "West Side Mob"/Genovese crime family. The induction ceremony took place above an East Harlem pizzeria. Bellomo's father was a powerful Sicilian heroin trafficker that was connected with the Genoveses of East Harlem.Vincent Cafaro sponsored Bellomo into the Genovese family, and Bellomo became a made member of Saverio Santora's East Harlem 116th Street Crew. The crew was involved in gambling and labor racketeering, specifically in the NYC District Council of Carpenters.In or around 1982, before he turned 30, Bellomo took over the Santora 116th Street Crew, and with fellow Harlem captain Vincent DiNapoli became the pre-eminent racketeer in the New York City District Council of Carpenters and extremely influential in the New York City construction industry. During the late 1980s, Bellomo moved the crew's center base to the Bronx, where it has always maintained important rackets up until Bellomo's most recent indictment.Bellomo was the exact opposite of the flashy John Gotti of the Gambino Bellomo was the exact opposite of the flashy John Gotti of the Gambino crime family. He dressed in jeans and sweatshirts, and only met fellow wiseguys late at night in odd places, avoiding the Manhattan limelight, but steadily building his power and helping to maintain the Genovese family's dominance over New York's La Cosa Nostra.[edit] "Legitimate" businessBellomo owned several Bronx-based businesses, including a waste hauling company. Carpenters union racketeer and the Jacob K. Javits CenterIn or about 1993, Bellomo won a jurisdictional dispute against Genovese Little Italy captain Anthony Cipollo, in which consigliere Louis Manna awarded Bellomo exclusive control over Bronx Carpenters Local 17, removing all of Cipollo's influence. Furthermore, Bellomo became dominant in the rackets at the Jacob K. Javits Center on the West Side of Manhattan by installing crew members in important union positions at the center, including soldier Ralph Coppola and his Genovese associate brother-in-law and Carpenters Local 257 shop steward Anthony Fiorino. Bellomo was also close to Genovese associate Attilio Bitondo who was Local 257's Vice-President, and involved in kickbacks from NYC contractors and businesses operating at the Javits Center. around this time Genovese boss Vincent Gigante began mentoring Liborio Bellomo to take over as boss of the Genovese crime family.A report by the New York State Organized Crime Task Force indicated that an alarmingly high number of the 100 carpenters that worked at the Javits Center had ties to organized crime, some of whom were made members of one of the Five Families. These carpenters made $100,000 salaries, and 60 of the 100 had criminal records. One of whom, Vincent Gigante, was the nephew of the Genovese family's Godfather. The Javits was controlled through affiliations with labor bosses Frederick Devine, Martin Forde, Attilio Bitondo, Eugene Hanley, Anthony Fiorino, Leonard Simon, Fabian Palomino, Carmine Fiore, and Ralph Coppola.To maintain control, Anthony Fiorino, the Local 257 steward in charge of the Javits, once threatening a man's life at a Local 257 meeting in 1984, telling him his kids could be hurt if he "steps on people's toes." Fiorino was also responsible for funneling tribute payments the Genovese and the Irish Westies Mob received from contractors operating in the Javits to the labor bosses and Barney Bellomo.[edit] Acting boss and indictmentIn 1990, after Vincent Gigante's indictment in the Windows Scam, Bellomo was appointed acting boss of the Genovese family. In 1996, after serving effectively as Gigante's acting boss while Gigante was dodging indictments by faking mental illness, Bellomo was indicted on Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act charges, including the murder of Ralph DeSimone, cousin of Thomas DeSimone who was portrayed by Joe Pesci in the film Goodfellas, extortion and labor racketeering. He took and passed three lie detector tests about a murder he has steadfastly denied, had his head shaved by Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agents looking to find evidence that Bellomo had used drugs to beat the polygraph machines, and was left sitting in prison even though no evidence of drugs was found in his system. In late 1997, Bellomo pleaded guilty to lesser charges and accepted a 10-year prison sentence.[edit] Imprisoned and second indictmentIn 2001, while Bellomo was due out of prison in 2004, he was indicted on money laundering charges related to the Genovese family's involvement in the waterfront rackets and control of the ILA. Bellomo was accused of hiding money stolen from the ILA's members pension fund account. Bellomo pleaded guilty to lesser charges pushing back his scheduled release date. While in prison, on February 23, 2006, Bellomo and over 30 other Genovese crime family members and associates, including nearly 90-year old Bronx captain John Ardito and Bellomo's attorney Peter Peluso who decided to cooperate with federal investigators, were indicted. Bellomo was charged with ordering the 1998 murder of Ralph Coppola, the acting captain that ran Bellomo's crew in his absence. Peluso pleaded guilty to his role in the murder, specifically, he admitted to passing the murder decree from Bellomo the Genovese mobsters who actually carried out the hit. The charges were later dropped due to lack of evidence. He maintains a residence in Pelham Manor, New York [
Released from prisonIn July 2008, after serving 12 years, former acting Genovese boss Barney Bellomo was released from prison. Bellomo's main rival to become boss will probably be Tino Fiumara, the purported leader of the New Jersey faction of the Genoveses and a long time capo and supporter of Vincent Gigante

WILLIE BOY JOHNSON MOBSTER

Wilfred "Willie Boy" Johnson (September 29, 1935 – August 29, 1988) was a United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) informant from 1969 to 1985. He provided the FBI with information relating to John Gotti and other members of the Gambino family. He was a friend of Gambino crime boss John Gotti even though he was informing on him.

Johnson was born in Canarsie, Brooklyn, one of five children of a Algonquian-speaking Native American father John Johnson who was a descendant of the 17th century tribe known as the Lenape from The Narrows of Staten Island and an Italian-American mother. His Indian father was estranged from their Staten Island Indian reservation and settled in Red Hook, Brooklyn where Wilfred Johnson was raised with his brothers and sisters. His father's ancestors were involved with the Dutch in the fur trade, specifically beaver pelts for European-made goods.

He was known on the streets as "Indian". Johnson's father, John Johnson, was an abusive alcoholic who frequently beat his wife and children. Johnson's father often spent his entire paycheck on alcohol. Johnson's mother would periodically desert her husband and children, only to return later. This dysfunctional and vicious childhood helped mold Johnson into a criminal. He was referred to as a "half breed" in reference to his mixed Italian-Iroquois heritage and Cher's song "Half Breed".Johnson's criminal career began when he was only nine years old; he was arrested for stealing money out of a Helen's Candy Store cash register, a Murder Inc. mob hangout. Johnson's school life was quite traumatic as well. The boy had a hair-trigger temper that frequently got him into trouble. At age 12, Johnson either fell or was pushed off the school roof during a fight. As a result of this accident, Johnson sustained head injuries that would plague him with persistent headaches for the rest of his life.

As a young man, Johnson was 6'6" and weighed close to 300 pounds and had extremely large hands. This led him to become a Mafia enforcer. By 1949, he was running a gang of thugs in East New York who strong armed debtors into paying their mob debts. In 1957, Johnson met John Gotti for the first time. Gotti was a 17 year-old high-school drop-out and Johnson was a street thug perpetually in trouble with the law.When Gotti joined the Gambino family, Johnson came with him. Johnson became known as the "terminator" because of his skill with strong-arm work. Requiring a steady income, Johnson was given a modestly-successful gambling operation. Because Johnson was only half-Italian from the wrong side of the family, he could never become a made man. However, he brought in money as well as anyone else in the family. Johnson married an Italian woman and never had a mistress. In Johnson's mind, he was part of the family. willie boy Johnson

In the late 1960s, Johnson the loyal soldier would turn against his crime family. It started in 1966, when Johnson was imprisoned for armed robbery. His Caporegime, Carmine Fatico, vowed to financially support Johnson's wife and two infant children. However, Fatico soon broke this promise. Johnson's wife, who was to remain loyal to him throughout all his prison terms, was forced to go on welfare. Johnson felt the mob was not living up to its obligations. Almost always, Wilfred did not volunteer information, but would answer direct questions asked by law enforcement officials. His FBI handler Special Agent Martin Boland would submit questions from various organized crime squads inside the FBI and the DEA. In 1967 during an FBI interview, someone spotted Johnson's apparent dissatisfaction with the mob. After his release from prison, the FBI approached him about becoming an informant. Reluctant at first, Johnson finally agreed to talk in return for the government dropping some counterfeiting charges. Johnson also wanted to pay back the Gambinos for their dishonesty. In 1978 Johnson informed Boland about the whereabouts of Lucchese crime family capo Paul Vario's hijacking headquarters which at the time was operating out of a scrapyard owned by Clyde Brooks. Although he was an informant, Wilfred customarily was careful about discussing his friend John Gotti. Johnson had a curious relationship with Gotti, at one point remarking to Boland, "Sometimes I love him, and sometimes I hate him." He did not provide much elaboration except for occasional hints, among them complaints about Gotti's gambling addiction, which often involved, he said, bets of up to $100,000 a week. Some of that action, Johnson complained would be laid off at his modest bookmaking operation, forcing Johnson to absorb the loss. On other occasions, Johnson would say bitterly about Gotti, "You know, he wears these expensive suits now, but he's still a lot of bullshit; he's still a mutt. Don't be fooled by that smooth exterior." Underlying Johnson's bitterness was apparent resentment over his continuing lowly status in the crew of Carmine Fatico, a seemingly state of permanent inferiority, despite all his loyal service. He resented how Fatico and Gotti always treated him like a peon: "They still see me as a gofer and make me handle swag." Except for one hundred dollars John once borrowed from Boland as an "emergency personal loan" which was promptly paid back, Boland declining an offer of "vig" on it, Wilfred did not receive a dime from the FBI. Although he did make some profit, his information solved a number of major hijackings for the FBI, and in cases where insurance companies offered large rewards for recovery of stolen goods, the FBI provided confidential affidavits attesting that Johnson was directly responsible fr recovery of hijacked goods. Johnson collected the rewards, in one case thirty thousand dollars for recovery of a large shipment. As an informant, Johnson did not seek, as many do, intervention by the FBI to get criminal charges reduced or drop

During his 16 years as an informant, Johnson provided information on all the different New York Mafia crews that he worked on and the FBI used that information to make many arrests. However, as his FBI "handler," Special Agent Martin Boland noticed, Johnson refused to discuss his background or childhood in any detail.One of the most significant pieces of information provided by Johnson was how The Vario Crew was avoiding FBI wire taps and bugs. The crew was using a parked trailer in a junkyard owned by Paul Vario in Brooklyn.Johnson provided the FBI with information on a large-scale narcotics ring, run by John Gotti and others, called the "Pleasant Avenue Connection." He revealed that Gotti and Angelo Ruggerio had murdered Florida mobster Anthony Plate. Johnson also had details on the murder of James McBratney, the man who kidnapped Emanuel Gambino.

In 1985, Johnson's career as an informant came to an abrupt end. In a public hearing that year, Federal prosecutor, Diane Giacalone inadvertently revealed that Johnson was working for the FBI. Johnson's FBI handlers tried to convince him to enter the Witness Protection Program, but for some reason he refused.On August 29, 1988, Bonanno family hit men, Thomas Pitera ("Tommy Karate") and Vincent "Kojak" Giattino ambushed Wilfred "Willie Boy" Johnson as he walked to his car and shot him to death. the gunmen fired 19 rounds at him. Johnson was hit once in each thigh, twice in the back, and at least six times in the head. The hit team then dropped jack-like spikes on the street to prevent the possibility of pursuit. Pitera had done this as a favor to Gotti.In 1992, Thomas Pitera and Vincent Giattino were indicted and tried for the murder of Johnson. Giattino was found guilty. Pitera, suspected in as many as 30 killings, was acquitted, but was later convicted of six other murders.

Gambino soldier Peter Zucarro paints Mafia's image by the numbahs

Zucarro

It was a day of naming names in Brooklyn Federal Court Tuesday. You know: Quack Quack. Johnny One Arm Vinnie Mad Dog. Little Fat Joe.. Could Big Pussy be far behind?
Turncoat Gambino soldier Pete Zuccaro took the stand to testify againstCharles Carneglia who's accused of five murders.
In a tough, gravelly voice he told why the Mafia kills people:- "He cursed at a capo in Italian."
- "He didn't pass on money (a superior) could use for snacks in the jail commissary."
- Vinnie Gotti thought he was sleeping with his wife."
- "He didn't come when he was called."
Zucarro is nicknamed "Bud" for his marijuana business, and prosecutor Evan Norris asked how much he earned for the tons of pot he brought here.
"A lot of people ax me that," he pronounced. "To put a number on the money I made, it's hard. Millions. Lots."
Zucarro, 53, described how a Winnebago would pull into Carneglia's junkyard and they would take the pot and "put it into bales and numbah dem."
The law intercepted too many imports and they turned to homegrown - hydroponics, to be exactCheech and chong "You don't use soil," Zucarro said. "You put the plants in rocks, feed them liquid nutrients under artificial light, create the best climate." He had a warehouse in Brooklyn"It was like the Epcop center.."
He would save some to smoke, no doubt because he was always around scary Carneglia, who, Zucarro claimed, killed teenager Sal Puma with a small stiletto.
"You don't need a big knife," Carneglia told him. "You can use a small one and just wiggle it."
Zucarro said he started "doing robberies" and assaults at the age of 13, when he met Carneglia.
Asked how many assaults, Zucarro threw his body back and said, "You gotta be kiddin' me!" He told of the time John Gotto asked them to "slaughter but not kill Carmine Agnello who beat up Gotti's daughter Victoria, his future wife.
He would do anything Gotti said because "I thought John Gotti was the best thing that walked on this planet."
But when he died, "I didn't feel anything. By then, I thought he ruined it. The way he was so flamboyant. ... It was supposed to be a secret society and now everything was overexposed. How do you say, "Do as I say, not as I do.'"

Memo to Mobsters: Don't "Adopt" Anyone - He May Turn Out to be a Rat

John A. (Junior) Gotti learned that the hard way with "adopted" son Lewis Kasman, who taped Gotti family meetings for the feds.Reputed killer Charles Carneglia is about to get a taste of the same medicine with "adopted" kid brother Kevin McMahon.Both mob turncoats are to testify in Carneglia's ongoing murder trial in Brooklyn Federal Court.Kasman, a former Long Island garment exec who wormed his way into Gotti's inner circle and called himself the adopted son of the late Gambino crime boss, wasn't close to Carneglia.McMahon was as close as you can get without being a relative. "When Kevin walks into that courtroom I would expect Charles will want to jump over the table and strangle him," a law enforcement official said.McMahon was not only a member of Carneglia's crime crew, he was like a member of the Carneglia family.In 1980, McMahon was a 12-year-old Irish kid from Howard Beach "at the beginning of his long and extraordinarily close relationship" with Charles Carneglia and his brother John, court papers show. McMahon is 20 years younger than Charles, 62, and John, 64.On a fateful day in March, McMahon lent his minibike to mob scion Frank Gotti who was accidentally hit and killed by neighbor John Favara as he drove home from work. Favara was slain on Gotti's orders and, prosecutors say, Charles Carneglia dissolved his body in a barrel of acid.Before the incident, McMahon had been "informally adopted" by John and Charles Carneglia. Charles Carneglia promised to protect the lad from retaliation for his role in Frankie's death.McMahon was treated as a member of the Carneglia family, living with them for long stretches, attending family dinners and going on Carneglia family vacations, Assistant U.S. Attorney Roger Burlingame said.Former capo Michael DiLeonardo has testified that McMahon was a "goofy kid" who taunted FBI agents, running up to them and grabbing his crotch.McMahon had jobs with Local 638 steamfitters union and Local 52 motion pictures mechanics union, but those paid only $40,000 a year, chump change for a wanna-be Gambino associate with an ailing wife and two kids.Prosecutors say he and Carneglia took part in extortions, art fraud and robberies, including the stickup of an armored car at Kennedy Airport in 1990 in which guard Jose Rivera Delgado was shot to death. McMahon dropped a baseball cap at the scene. DNA tests linked him to a strand of hair in the hat.Shortly after he was arrested in 2005 on an indictment charging him with racketeering for the Gambinos in Tampa, McMahon sent a "thank you" letter to Brooklyn Magistrate Robert Levy for releasing him on bail."As I was leaving the courtroom you said to me, 'Don't let me down.' I assure you I have not," he wrote. "As soon as I'm acquitted I'll write you again."McMahon turned on his adoptive mob family after he was convicted and faced 20 years behind bars. He is cooperating in hopes of winning a lesser prison term.Thanks to John Marzulli

A rat through and through

The ratings for last night's edition of "60 Minutes" will no doubt be boffo. They had a football playoff game lead-in. They had a segment with Roger Clemens, professional baseball player, denying he took steroids. And they had Johnny Martorano, professional murderer, waxing philosophic about the art of blowing people's brains out.
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You'll have to forgive Emily Connors for not tuning in. Johnny Martorano helped murder her husband 33 years ago, as Ed Connors stood in a phone booth in Dorchester.
"You know what?" Emily Connors said of Martorano's schtick. "It's getting old."
She got that right. It would almost be bearable to watch this stuff if we knew it would be over and done with. But it's pretty obvious Martorano's appearance was the launch of another attempt to capitalize on the very marketable concept of the sensitive sociopath. After Martorano wraps up his government-witness obligations, which allowed him to trade the 20 human lives he took for 12 years in prison, there will be another kill-and-tell book. Another movie treatment. Some clueless Hollywood type will be snookered by all this tough-but-thoughtful hit-man jive, and we'll have to endure an endless string of breathless whispers about scripts, stars, and on-location shoots in Southie and Winter Hill.
Liesguys Lit is a lucrative genre. It's revisionist history for murderers, allowing them to imbue their venality with a sense of nobility that is otherwise missing from the brutal act of shooting someone in cold blood. And the best part for the purveyors of this junk is that almost everyone who can dispute its authenticity is either dead or not talking.
It's just as well Emily Connors didn't watch last night, because Martorano's performance was far more offensive to his victims than anything he said in court some years back when he got the sweetheart deal that allowed him to walk out of prison last year.
Johnny told Steve Kroft he didn't enjoy killing, but that he did it for his family and friends.
What a guy.
"You could never pay me to kill anybody," said Johnny, who, by job description, was paid to kill people.
"I didn't enjoy risking my life," Johnny said, "but if the cause was right I would."
He never got around to identifying these causes. Perhaps it was to free Tibet, or maybe help the nuns pay off the mortgage at an orphanage. Oh, and even though Johnny is a government witness he is not a rat because he's testifying against those who ratted before he ratted.
Got that?
Like all these criminals who trade their infamy for a few bucks, Johnny Martorano comes across as a guy who is sorry only that he got caught.
Paul Rico, the disgraced, and now dead, former FBI agent who helped Johnny kill people also helped frame a guy named Joe Salvati. Asked how he felt about Salvati doing 30 years for a murder he didn't commit, Rico replied, "What do you want, tears?"
Well, yeah, actually, we do. It would be refreshing to see one of these guys look into a camera and say, "I can't make up for my past. But I don't want to talk about it, either, because all it will do is hurt the families I already hurt."
Don't hold your breath waiting for that one.
There were a lot of names thrown around on "60 Minutes" last night. Whitey Bulger. Stevie Flemmi. They mentioned Martorano's first victim, Robert Palladino, and his last two, Roger Wheeler and John Callahan.Crime, Bulger,Flemmi,Weeks,Connolly,Rico,