When the two men were seated, Genovese said, “I have information which I have checked out that Frank Scalise has been selling memberships in the Organization to a lot of young hoods for big money, from ten thousand to twenty-five thousand dollars. Also, on that shipment of white stuff the narcotics agents knocked off a month ago, Scalise had guaranteed the shipment. He has welched on the payoff. I am asking you to okay the hit.”
“What about Anastasia?” Gambino asked.
“I will take care of Anastasia,” Genovese said coldly.
“And after that, Vito? What then?”
“You are close to Luciano. You will send word to him in Italy that Scalise and Anastasia both welched and were hit by the men they double-crossed. In return for this favor, I will throw all my strength to you so that you can take over Anastasia’s family.”
“There may be trouble after Anastasia is hit,” Gambino pointed out.
“No, no, Carlo. No trouble. You will have Lansky on your side. You know that Anastasia and Lansky have never gotten along. Lansky will smooth things over.”
Gambino saw the picture. With Scalise and Anastasia dead there would be no further competition to keep Genovese from becoming the boss of bosses.
That was all right with Gambino since he would be taking over a big segment of rackets controlled by Anastasia. If, after that, something should happen to Genovese, then, with the power he would have, he could become the boss of bosses. It was a very tempting prospect.
He nodded. “I agree, Vito. I shall cooperate with you. You have my word.”
“Good, my friend. It is a deal.” He extended his hand which Gambino shook. Both men rose and walked out together.
On June 17, 1957, Scalise went to a fruit market in the Bronx. While he was bent over one of the stands, two gunmen walked up behind him and shot him four times in the head and neck. He died before he hit the ground.
Scalise’s brother Joe went to Anastasia and demanded that Frank’s killers be hit. Anastasia had heard the story of Frank’s welching and the selling of memberships. He had checked out both stories and found them to be correct. He refused to do anything about the killing.
Joe Scalise then vowed that he would do something about it.
The word then went out to hit Joe Scalise. He learned of it and went into hiding. He was gone for two months when he received word that he was forgiven and had nothing to fear. He returned to New York, and his old haunts.
On September seventh he suddenly disappeared and nothing was ever heard of him since.
The killing of the Scalise brothers was not so much an advance of Genovese’s plan to become the number one man in the Mafia as it was Gambino’s. He now became the second in command to Anastasia in Anastasia’s family. The next step, of course, was Anastasia.
Genovese held another meeting with Gambino to discuss hitting Anastasia. Gambino shrugged.
“That is your business, Vito. Whatever you decide.”
“I want your assurance that there will be no retribution, that no one in my family will get hurt.”
“If I do not know who the men responsible for the hit are how can order reprisals, eh, Vito?”
Genovese grinned. “Yes, of course. And you will not know, my friend.”
Genovese was wrong. Gambino knew hours afterward who the killers were. After Genovese left, Gambino got in touch with Meyer Lansky. He wanted the okay from Lansky on his part in the plot.
Lansky considered Anastasia an illiterate, ignorant, imprudent thug whose answer to everything was violence. The low opinion was mutual. Anastasia thought Lansky was a money hungry, condescending, self-styled intellectual, an outsider who was neither Italian nor Sicilian, and had no place in the hierarchy of the Syndicate.
Lansky, however, was prudent, cautious, and shunned violence as much as possible. In his role as financial genius of the Syndicate he wanted everything run smoothly, and advised against killings.
Gambino told Lansky of his talk with Genovese.
“You gave Genovese your okay?” Lansky asked.
“Not exactly. I said it was his business and that I didn’t want to know who the hit men were to be.”
“I see. Well, Carlo, you are guilty of knowledge. That could make you a co-conspirator if things went wrong. But like you told Genovese, I’m telling you, it’s your business. So far as I am concerned I heard nothing from you. I am going to forget this conversation. I want you to forget it. You understand?”
“Of course, Meyer.” Lansky’s answer was all that Gambino wanted. No objections. You want to involve yourself, that’s your business. As Gambino looked at the whole thing, he was in the clear.
He did not sanction the hit, he was to have no actual part in it. There was no way he could be tied to it. Genovese certainly would never admit to his part in it, and since only Genovese had spoken to him of it, he was clean.
Genovese, a schemer, decided not to use his own men in hitting Anastasia. He turned the task over to Joe Profaci, who was a close friend of Lansky’s. Profaci, in turn, gave the contract to “Crazy Joe” Gallo, one of three brothers, who were experts in the matter of doing away with undesirables and trouble makers.
The string, from Genovese to Profaci to Gallo, was such that tracing the murder plot to Genovese would be difficult — and to trace it to Gambino, impossible.
On the morning of October 25, 1957, Albert Anastasia was driven by Anthony Coppola into New York City from his walled estate in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Coppola, Anastasia’s chauffeur and bodyguard, let Anastasia off in front of the Park Sheraton Hotel on Seventh Avenue and 55th Street. Coppola then parked the car in a garage a few blocks away and went for a walk.
Anastasia went into the barbershop, hung up his coat, and sat down in a chair. He told Joseph Bocchino, the barber, he wanted a haircut. Bocchino draped a cloth around Anastasia’s neck as Anastasia leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Bocchino took a pair of clippers and began cutting on the shaggy hair.
At that moment the barbershop door swung open and closed silently.
Two men, silk scarves covering most of their faces stepped inside, pistols in hand. One of the men mumbled softly to Arthur Grasso, the owner.
“Keep your mouth shut or I’ll blow your head off!”
Grasso backed away from the two men and covered his face with his hands. The two hoods strode calmly to where Anastasia sat, pushed Bocchino to one side, leveled their pistols and began firing.
Anastasia leaped out of the chair as the first shots struck him. Completely out of his wits, he lunged at the reflection of the two gunmen in the mirror in front of him. Another volley of shots struck him in the neck and shoulder. The impact threw him against the glass shelf of the mirror and he crashed to the floor. Bottles of hair tonic and cologne shattered around him as he fell.
One of the gunmen took careful aim and sent a slug thundering into Anastasia’s head. The other gunmen looked around the shop in a swift glance.
“Stay where you are or I’ll kill you!” he warned.
The two hoods turned and hurried out of the shop onto Seventh Avenue. They walked briskly down the B.M.T. subway and disappeared from view. As they escaped from the murder scene they got rid of their weapons. One of them dropped his gun in the vestibule of the shop. The other killer tossed his weapon into a trash barrel on the subway platform.
The whole thing had taken less than two minutes.
Genovese moved immediately to take over as capo di tutti capi. Gambino, quietly and without much trumpeting of his moves, took over the head of the Anastasia family.
Genovese made his next big move to establish his position as the Boss of Bosses. He called together the leaders of the Syndicate for a conference to set up guide lines and reestablish territories and a unification of operations in all the rackets.