memories?”
“From Cali.”
“The Cali cartel?”
“Yeh.”
“Out of Colombia, South America?”
“Yeh.”
“And heroin? Who was the connection there?”
“The Ndrangheta.”
“This is a group in Italy, you say?”
“In Calabria, uh-huh.”
“A group that’s associated with the Mafia?”
“Huh?”
“Would you say the Ndrangheta is associated with the Mafia?”
“I’d say it
is
the Mafia.”
“But now Salvadore Riggio, he was the head of the Carmine fam-ily?”
“That’s right.”
“And the Carmine, this was
your
family?”
“Yeh.”
“And Louie Boffano is also in the Carmine family?”
“Yeh.”
“OK. But now Salvadore Riggio, he didn’t, he didn’t approve of Mr. Boffano’s connection with the Cali cartel, with the Ndrangheta…?”
“He had a beef.”
“OK. Tell us again, Mr. DeCicco, what was his beef?”
“You weren’t supposed to deal drugs. That was the law.”
“You mean the unwritten law of the family?”
“Correct.”
“Why was that the law, Mr. DeCicco?”
“I dunno.”
Bozeman stands at the rail to the jury box. He twitches his mustache and gives the jurors a playful glance. “It seems like
a somewhat strange law, doesn’t it? Mr. DeCicco? For a criminal organization?”
“I dunno.”
“I’m just, I think we’re all trying to picture Salvadore Riggio as this, this
crusader
against drugs….” Murmur of laughter in the courtroom. “Would you have called Salvadore Riggio an antidrug crusader?”
Tallow, the DA, hops up. “Objection. Salvadore Riggio’s not on trial here.”
Bozeman shrugs. “State is trying to portray Salvadore Riggio as an exemplary citizen, in order to create an emotional bias
against my client.”
The judge sustains the objection. Whereupon Louie Boffano mutters, “What the fuck?”
It’s a mutter, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.
Judge Wietzel leans forward into his microphone. “I didn’t quite hear that, Mr. Boffano. Would you care to repeat that?”
Louie Boffano gives him a grin. “Not really.”
Says the judge, “I warn you again to keep your opinion of these proceedings to yourself.” He glowers. Then, “You may proceed
with the cross, Mr. Bozeman. But please don’t ask Mr. DeCicco to assess Mr. Riggio’s relative morality.”
Bozeman asks Paulie, “OK, then, the fact is that the unwritten code of the Carmine family prohibited large-scale drug dealing?”
“Yeh.”
“Penalty for noncompliance?”
“Death.”
“And you testified that Mr. Boffano had been a member of the Carmine family for as long as you had known him?”
“Yeh.”
“Twenty-three years?”
“Yeh.”
“A good soldier in the family?”
“I dunno. I guess.”
“And yet he was willing to depart from this deeply rooted tradition of no drugs?”
“Yeh.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
“A lot of money?”
“Yeh.”
“Somewhere in your testimony you say there was talk of making a billion dollars?”
“I mean, that was just talk.”
“Well sometimes
I
talk about making money too, Mr. DeCicco. But I don’t talk about making a billion dollars.”
“No? Why, a billion dollars not enough for you? Oh yeh, I forgot, you’re a
lawyer
.”
Judge Wietzel makes a face. “Gentlemen.”
But Bozeman chuckles amiably, and his yellow teeth glimmer and his walrus mustache does a little dance. He says, “That’s very
funny, Mr. DeCicco. You’ve got quite a wit there.”
DeCicco shrugs.
Says Bozeman, “Very sharp. Now would you be sharp enough to recall for us who
started
all this talk?”
“Huh?”
“Who suggested to Mr. Boffano that he enter the drug business?”
“Oh, I dunno.”
“I think you do know.”
Tallow roars out, “Objection! Argumentative!”
Bozeman cheerfully concedes, “Ah you’re right. My error, my error. Mr. DeCicco, didn’t you testify yesterday that a man known
to you only as the Teacher had suggested a strategy for negotiating with the Cali drug
“From Cali.”
“The Cali cartel?”
“Yeh.”
“Out of Colombia, South America?”
“Yeh.”
“And heroin? Who was the connection there?”
“The Ndrangheta.”
“This is a group in Italy, you say?”
“In Calabria, uh-huh.”
“A group that’s associated with the Mafia?”
“Huh?”
“Would you say the Ndrangheta is associated with the Mafia?”
“I’d say it
is
the Mafia.”
“But now Salvadore Riggio, he was the head of the Carmine fam-ily?”
“That’s right.”
“And the Carmine, this was
your
family?”
“Yeh.”
“And Louie Boffano is also in the Carmine family?”
“Yeh.”
“OK. But now Salvadore Riggio, he didn’t, he didn’t approve of Mr. Boffano’s connection with the Cali cartel, with the Ndrangheta…?”
“He had a beef.”
“OK. Tell us again, Mr. DeCicco, what was his beef?”
“You weren’t supposed to deal drugs. That was the law.”
“You mean the unwritten law of the family?”
“Correct.”
“Why was that the law, Mr. DeCicco?”
“I dunno.”
Bozeman stands at the rail to the jury box. He twitches his mustache and gives the jurors a playful glance. “It seems like
a somewhat strange law, doesn’t it? Mr. DeCicco? For a criminal organization?”
“I dunno.”
“I’m just, I think we’re all trying to picture Salvadore Riggio as this, this
crusader
against drugs….” Murmur of laughter in the courtroom. “Would you have called Salvadore Riggio an antidrug crusader?”
Tallow, the DA, hops up. “Objection. Salvadore Riggio’s not on trial here.”
Bozeman shrugs. “State is trying to portray Salvadore Riggio as an exemplary citizen, in order to create an emotional bias
against my client.”
The judge sustains the objection. Whereupon Louie Boffano mutters, “What the fuck?”
It’s a mutter, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.
Judge Wietzel leans forward into his microphone. “I didn’t quite hear that, Mr. Boffano. Would you care to repeat that?”
Louie Boffano gives him a grin. “Not really.”
Says the judge, “I warn you again to keep your opinion of these proceedings to yourself.” He glowers. Then, “You may proceed
with the cross, Mr. Bozeman. But please don’t ask Mr. DeCicco to assess Mr. Riggio’s relative morality.”
Bozeman asks Paulie, “OK, then, the fact is that the unwritten code of the Carmine family prohibited large-scale drug dealing?”
“Yeh.”
“Penalty for noncompliance?”
“Death.”
“And you testified that Mr. Boffano had been a member of the Carmine family for as long as you had known him?”
“Yeh.”
“Twenty-three years?”
“Yeh.”
“A good soldier in the family?”
“I dunno. I guess.”
“And yet he was willing to depart from this deeply rooted tradition of no drugs?”
“Yeh.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
“A lot of money?”
“Yeh.”
“Somewhere in your testimony you say there was talk of making a billion dollars?”
“I mean, that was just talk.”
“Well sometimes
I
talk about making money too, Mr. DeCicco. But I don’t talk about making a billion dollars.”
“No? Why, a billion dollars not enough for you? Oh yeh, I forgot, you’re a
lawyer
.”
Judge Wietzel makes a face. “Gentlemen.”
But Bozeman chuckles amiably, and his yellow teeth glimmer and his walrus mustache does a little dance. He says, “That’s very
funny, Mr. DeCicco. You’ve got quite a wit there.”
DeCicco shrugs.
Says Bozeman, “Very sharp. Now would you be sharp enough to recall for us who
started
all this talk?”
“Huh?”
“Who suggested to Mr. Boffano that he enter the drug business?”
“Oh, I dunno.”
“I think you do know.”
Tallow roars out, “Objection! Argumentative!”
Bozeman cheerfully concedes, “Ah you’re right. My error, my error. Mr. DeCicco, didn’t you testify yesterday that a man known
to you only as the Teacher had suggested a strategy for negotiating with the Cali drug
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