“We might also be able to book him for Conspiracy, Section 580, if he’s actually involved in this planned crime.”
“Do you have definite knowledge that a crime is to take place?” Baum asked.
“We have reasonable knowledge, sir, yes, sir.”
“You realize, do you not, that no agreement amounts to a conspiracy
unless some act beside such agreement is done to effect the object thereof?”
“Look, Mr. Baum,” Meyer said, “this isn’t a court of law, so let’s not argue the case right here and now, okay? We’re not going to book your client for anything provided he co-operates a little and answers …”
“I hope I didn’t detect a threat in that statement,” Baum said.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Meyer said, “we know that a man named Anthony La Bresca and another man named Peter Calucci are planning to commit a crime, misdemeanor or felony we don’t know which, on March fifteenth. We also have very good reason to believe that your client here knows exactly what they’re up to and has demanded money from them to keep such knowledge or information from reaching the police. Now, Mr. Baum, we don’t want to pull in La Bresca and Calucci for conspiracy because (a) it wouldn’t stick without that ‘act’ you were talking about, and (b) we might end up with only a misdemeanor, depending on what they’ve cooked up. As I’m sure you know, if they’ve planned the crime of murder, kidnaping, robbery One, selling narcotics, arson or extortion, and if they’ve committed some act other than their agreement to pull the job, each of them is guilty of a felony. And as I’m sure you also know, some very big officials in this city were recently murdered, and the possibility exists that La Bresca and Calucci are somehow involved and that this crime they’ve planned may have to do with extortion or murder, or both, which would automatically make the conspiracy a felony. As you can see, therefore, we’re not after your client per se, we’re merely trying to prevent a crime. So can we cut all the legal bullshit and get a little co-operation from you, and especially from him?”
“It seems to me he’s been co-operating splendidly,” Baum said.
“It seems to me he’s been lying splendidly,” Meyer said.
“Considering what’s involved here …” Baum started.
“Mr. Baum, could we please …?”
“… I think you had better charge Mr. Di Fillippi with whatever it is you have in mind. We’ll let the courts settle the matter of his guilt or innocence.”
“While two hoods pull off their job, right?”
“I’m not interested in the entrapment of two hoodlums,” Baum said. “I’m advising my client to say nothing further, in accordance with the rights granted to him under …”
“Thanks a lot, Mr. Baum.”
“Are you going to book him, or not?”
“We’re going to book him,” Meyer said.
“For what?”
“Compounding a crime, Section 570 of the Penal Law.”
“Very well, I suggest you do that with reasonable dispatch,” Baum said. “It seems to me he’s been held in custody an extremely long time as it is. I know you’re aware …”
“Mr. Baum, we’re aware of it inside out and backwards. Take him down, Hal. Charge him as specified.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Di Fillippi said.
“I suggest that you go with them,” Baum said. “Don’t worry about a thing. Before you’re even arraigned, I’ll have contacted a bail bondsman. You’ll be back on the street …”
“Hey, wait one goddamn minute,” Di Fillippi said.
“What if those two guys go ahead with …?”
“Dominick, I advise you to remain silent.”
“Yeah? What can I get for this ‘compounding,’ whatever the hell it is?”
“Depends on what they do,” Meyer said.
“Dominick …”
“If they commit a crime punishable by death or by life imprisonment you can get five years. If they commit …”
“What about a holdup?” Di Fillippi asked.
“Dominick, as your attorney, I must again strongly advise you …”
“What about a holdup?” Di Fillippi said again.
“Is that what they’ve planned?” Meyer said.
“You didn’t answer me.”
“If they commit a robbery, and you take money from them to conceal the crime, you can get three years in prison.”
“Mmm,” Di Fillippi said.
“Will you answer some questions for us?”
“Will you let me go if I do?”
“Dominick, you don’t have to …”
“Do you want to go to prison for three years?” Di Fillippi asked.
“They have no case, they’re …”
“No? Then how do they know the job’s coming off on March fifteenth? Where’d they get that? Some little birdie whisper it in their ear?”
“We’ve leveled with you, Dominick,” Willis said, “and believe me, we wouldn’t have brought any of this out in the open if we didn’t have plenty to go on. Now you can either help us or we can book you and take you down for arraignment and you’ll have an arrest record following you for the rest of your life. What do you want to do?”
“That’s coercion!” Baum shouted.
“It may be coercion, but it’s also fact,” Willis said.
“I’ll tell you everything I know,” Di Fillippi said.
He knew a lot, and he told it all.
He told them that the holdup was set for eight o’clock on Friday night, and that the victim was to be the owner of a tailor shop on Culver Avenue. The reason the hit had been scheduled for that particular night and time was that the tailor, a man namd John Mario Vicenzo, usually packed up his week’s earnings then and took them home with him in a small metal box, which box his wife Laura carried to the Fiduciary Trust early Saturday morning. The Fiduciary Trust, as it happened, was the only bank in the neighborhood that was open till noon on Saturday, bank employees being among those who did not like to work on weekends.
John Mario Vicenzo (or John the Tailor as he was known to the people along Culver Avenue) was a man in his early seventies, an easy mark. The take would be enormous, Di Fillippi explained, with more than enough for everyone concerned even if split three ways. The plan was to go into the shop at ten minutes to eight, just before John the Tailor drew the blinds on the plate glass window fronting the street. La Bresca was to perform that task instead, and then he was to lock the front door while Calucci forced John the Tailor at gun point into the back room, where he would tie him and leave him bound and helpless on the floor near the pressing machine. They would then empty the cash register of the money that had been piling up there all week long, and take off. John the Tailor would be left dead or alive depending on how co-operative he was.
Di Fillippi explained that he’d overheard all this one night in the pizzeria on South Third, La Bresca and Calucci sitting in a booth behind him and not realizing they were whispering a little too loud. At first he’d been annoyed by the idea of two Italians knocking over a place owned by another Italian, but then he figured What the hell, it was none of his business; the one thing he’d never done in his life was rat on anybody. But that was before the fight, and the bet that had left him broke. Desperate for a little cash, he remembered what he’d heard them discussing and figured he’d try to cut himself in. He didn’t think there’d be too much static from them because the take, after all, was a huge one, and he figured they’d be willing to share it.
“Just how much money is involved here?” Willis asked.
“Oh, man,” Di Fillippi said, rolling his eyes, “there’s at least four hundred bucks involved here, maybe even more.”