(This is being published each Sunday in serial form. For full view of past postings go here. )
No one ever explained why the reorganization happened out of the blue. No one ever knew why a guy with no experience in gaming operations was put in charge of the most successful police anti-gaming unit in Massachusetts. Was it a coincidence that the guy who spent years working with the FBI C-3 squad was put in charge of the SSU shortly after it appeared they were striking hard at the organization of its favorite top echelon informants?
At the meeting in late 1987 between Foley and Ring we were told Ring said the leak to Ferrara “was a small time bookie named Franny McIntyre.” Foley would continue to write saying: “Mattioli checked later, and Naimovich was indeed using McIntyre. It seemed to fit. The only people who had access to the information given to Ferrara were Gianturco, Naimovich and me. Even Jimmy [White his partner on the state police] didn’t know everything. If Nick had been cleared, that left just Naimovich and me. And I knew it wasn’t me.”
What is most telling about all of this is the way that the FBI first said McIntyre’s name became known to it. During the Vanessa wiretap one conversation overheard on December 22, 1986 was among the Mafia gangsters, Vincent Ferrara, Robert Carrozza, Angelo Mercuri and Dennis Lepore who “discussed collecting money from known bookmakers whose names were discussed.” One name mention was “Franny Mac.” On June 16, 1987, search warrants issued. Among the items seized was an address book belonging to Vinny Ferrara. In it was the name “Franny Mac” and the telephone number listed to him at his home in Canton.
What we don’t know is how among the many names mentioned by the Mafia gangsters and the hundreds of names and telephone numbers found in Ferrara’s address book and the address books of others, James Ring of the FBI turned the spotlight on Franny McIntyre as the leak to Ferrara.
Seriously, there had to be hundreds of people who the FBI could have figured was the leak. Out of the blue Ring decides it is McIntyre. Search as I may, I can’t see how he made that connection. No once explains it It’s as if he had one of those wizard globes and the name materialized. And it appears, neither Mattioli or Foley ask what made them suspect McIntyre.
Now let me ask, did you pick up Foley’s statement, “Matioli checked later, and Naimovich was indeed using McIntyre?” When did he check and what did he find Naimovich was using McIntyre for? It’s a telling statement because it obscures the truthful story of what happened.
Apparently Mattioli checked the toll records of telephone calls on McIntyre’s telephone. He saw on them that there were communications between McIntyre and Naimovich. He testified he immediately thought when seeing it that there was something wrong. He never bothered to ask about it. Had he, he would have learned McIntyre was Naimovich’s informant. This was known by then Major Charlie Henderson and Sergeant Bob Haley.
Mattioli testified that there might be a handler/informant relationship never crossed his mind. This from a guy who is put in charge of a unit that deals regularly with informants. It seems like willful ignorance. Nor did it cross the mind of his sidekick Foley that McIntyre was Naimovich’s informant. Neither one could figure that a trooper with Naimovich’s experience if he was doing something wrong would not be using toll calls from his home to communicate with someone he did not want people to know he was in contact with.
If there’s anything one first learns in doing organize crime investigations, the first thing you do is pull telephone toll records to make connections between and among people. Naimovich left a trail as bright as the tail of a comet entering the atmosphere of his telephonic relationship with McIntyre and Mattioli and Foley think they have found something incriminating relating to this trooper with 23 years experience mostly doing wiretaps.
Foley continued: “To figure out what was going on, Ring and Mattioli decided to set up a top-secret internal investigation to see what Naimovich was up to. . . . If Naimovich knew he was under surveillance, he’d stop dead — and, if he was indeed guilty, he’d tip of the LCN ruining everything.”
Foley writes on, “The plan was for Mattioli and Sergeant (?) Sullivan to be the inside guys. . . watching everything he did, who he saw, what numbers he called. . . . without letting Naimovich have any idea. They’d need others to handle the outside work, which was everywhere Naimovich went when he wasn’t in the office. The FBI . . . agents would need help tailing him and keeping track of everyone he saw. Mattioli figured there were only two of us who could handle that. Me and Jimmy [White].”
He then tells us: “Poor lumbering bastard, Naimovich had no idea what was happening to him.” Sadly, neither did utterly naive Foley who was being gamed by the FBI. He had no idea how to do a bookie investigation or work with gaming informants or even to save him all the time trailing Naimovich by figure that McIntyre was Naimovich’s informant. Yeah, you should feel sorry for Naimovich because he had guys on his job who were working next to him who were betraying him and undermining a long-term gaming investigation that was heading straight at Whitey and Flemmi.
Scollay Square and down Cambridge Street I remember, but mostly I’d have been Downtown/Theatre District/Back Bay.
Henry:
Figured that.
Matt: I went to work at the Charlestown Navy Yard in 1955, and spent nights in town, from the zone to South End, Back Bay, Roxbury, Southie. Boston was a much smaller and nicer town back then. I knew many of the characters mentioned in the trial but always avoided hanging out with them. Vinnie Flemmi was the only one I could say I knew well. Drink was enough for me, never any drugs. And yes, I do have many stories from the past 60 years, but I try to tell them sparingly. Who really wants to hear an old guy reminisce?
I asked a local Irish friend who worked with Bulger in the courthouse clean-up crew in the 80s about names. No one there ever called him “Whitey.” It was always “Jimmy.” He did chew mints all the time because his normal breath was described as “ketony.” That’s often a sign of diabetes but there are other dietary causes.
Henry:
I have a person close to me who also worked in the courthouse with Whitey. I’m going to have to check out your story. It’s good having someone who knows what intown was like back in those days who can add in some color. I’d have thought you would have added in the West End up around Scollay Square. Still recall being in a bar there hearing the songs being banged out on an old piano by a past prime time vaudelville performing picking up some spare change: “I used to work in Chicago” and “Any Ice Today Lady.” Brings back fond memories.
Afraid: You’re too young to have known McGinnis; he died in 1965 or 1966. But whoever gave you his description was right on. The shirt and trousers were that silver/grey colored khaki. I think he bought them from a store on Dover Street (now East Berkeley) “Harry the Greek.” For unknown reasons he was allowed to wear that costume in Walpole, although hardly alone. No dungarees or orange boiler suits back then. Always scowling. To look at him you’d have thought he was a workman and not a con. He did work in the electrical dept at Walpole, along with Lefty Gildea. He was ridiculously cheap and saved everything, including string. When he died (heart attack in his cell) he fell such that he wedged himself against the door and extracting the corpse required removal of the door (he was in minimum then, so no bars.) His cell was so jammed with hoarded things like non-working radios piled to the ceiling that he planned to repair, newspapers, rags, etc., that it took seven or eight laundry carts full of stuff to clean the cell out.
And I certainly remember the ten-cent beer and 15-cent whiskies. At the “Morning Glory” in City Square you could get a double shot of OT and a 16-oz bottle of beer for a quarter – their special. Tells you something about inflation, doesn’t it!
The book sounds very interesting. Get a good editor, for sure. Remember that it’s “concrete” and not “cement;” cement is a component of concrete. One of those “guineas” you noted above once corrected me, something I’ve never forgotten.
Henry:
Reading your comment to Afraid I can only think there’s a wealth of knowledge out there that will pass by unless people like yourself write it out. Tell us some more tales. I remember nickel beer or dimies, Harry the Greek, Lefty Gildea, a beer and ball, the little eight ounce glasses of beer that seemed to be filled with the nectar of the gods, the two dollar six packs after hours at the Penn, and things like that. Thanks for the memories.
Dear Henry Barth, You mentioned the Brinks Robbery. I’m working hard to finish a book. Below is the Brinks Robbery chapter:
“Great Brinks Robbery
They opened the front door. With an ice pick. Opened the inside door. With a piece of plastic. The heist planning took a year.
The Brinks robbery was a monstrous deal. More than a million in unmarked cash. It was the biggest robbery in United States (1950). They thought it was the guineas. They thought it was the Communists. They thought it was Army guys.
For six months. Maybe a year. This guy was bragging. He’s part of the Brinks. He put in a cement driveway. The feds finally believed him. They tore his house up. Destroyed the cement driveway. Looking for the goodies.
His partner got tortured. They’d make little scores. Drinking with the wiseguys. Talking about the Brinks. Wiseguys scooped the partner. What a horrible death! They mummified him. Barbequed him.
Joe O’Keefe was the stool pigeon. Wimpy’s brother Walter bought the marked money. Joe McGinnis was the clean-up guy. Instead of burning the marked money. Joe McGinnis sold it to Walter. Told him, ‘Put it in the wall. And be quiet.’ It was two hundred grand. Went in Walter’s office wall. Fat John. A wheeler. And dealer. Rented that Tremont Street office.
If Eddy did the Brinks. And they said, ‘Burn the marked money.’ I know Eddy too good (smiles). He was a smart bastard. But he never would have burned it. Eddy would have kept the marked money. I would have burnt it. Because I’m so stupid!
Marked money. Brand-new money. Date stamped on it. Original wrappers on it. They know that money. Used money in wrappers. With mixed-serial numbers. That’s the good money. Joe McGinnis separated the good money. He gave everybody a bag full.
Joe McGinnis wore the same outfit. Khaki pants. Work shoes. And a red sweater. The sweater coming up to here (lifts hand to chin). This was the big. Thick Irish sweater. The same outfit. For years. And years. The cheapest prick that ever lived. McGinnis even took whiskey bottles. And stolen government seals. Went to New Hampshire. Built a whiskey still.
A liquor store. A barroom. Dance hall. The whole works. Right on the corner. Center Street in Jamaica Plain. And made his own whiskey.
Joe McGinnis got pinched making whiskey. The case went to federal court. They surveyed the New Hampshire land. The owner selling it to McGinnis. Cheated him by ten feet. But that ten feet. It had the still. McGinnis beat the case. Laugh of the century!
Once in my life. Seen him dress different. Wool sportcoat (chuckles). Wool shirt. No neck tie. This was in federal court. When beating them on the still.
McGinnis was a son-of-a-bitch. My first diamond score. Something like seventeen. Eighteen grand. Nicky Moran. Jackie Smith. And me. Fifteen. Fourteen. And thirteen years-old. He paid us seven hundred bucks.
A block from the Jewelers’ Building. A guy come from his car. He looked in the trunk. Smitty walked by. And saw the bag. We went through the back seat. There was people on Washington Street. But people minded their own business.
We thought it was luggage. Like down in South Station. We’d steal the luggage. Walk to Dover. And Washington Street. To the pawn shops there. Throw the luggage on the counter. For the old lady’s bloomers. And the costume jewelry.
Hot stuff prices. I think everybody. Got screwed by McGinnis. Like our diamond score. We didn’t know the exact figure ourselves. I don’t know where we heard that figure. But we heard it from some place!
The guineas tried to kill him. McGinnis carried a sawed-off shotgun. Under his thick sweater. He pulled that out. Right on the subway. Washington Street Station. Started shooting at them. It gave McGinnis a reputation. He come up during the Gustin Gang. So that beef was probably over booze.
When we had an arm-load of suits. Jump in a taxi. Over to Jamaica Plain. ‘Qwishh.’ The taxi cost thirty-five cents. Even taxi drivers kept their mouths shut. They was afraid of getting stabbed. Or shot in the head themselves.
We’d walk in the liquor store. Right through the front door. Went to the back. There was a booth. With a big cash register. We’d pile them up there. Other times we went in. Where he kept the whiskey. Throw them on the boxes.
If someone needed a heavy guy. And didn’t want to pay too much. They could get McGinnis. A tough guy. And a hustler. Fencing. Thieving. Booking. Shylocking. Strong-arming. McGinnis did everything!
The marked money. Probably sold it for twenty grand. Walter panicked when Joe O’Keefe started squealing. Walter gave Tommy Blue marked money. He was down in Baltimore. Passing it around. At a carnival. Tommy Blue gets pinched. The money gets pinched.
They said to him, ‘Where did you get the money?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘I don’t know.’ But he ratted. They tore open the wall.
Walter went on the FBI payroll. Because Walter took heat for it. He didn’t rat on Joe Peppino. Fat John did a small bit. After leaving the can. He got whacked.
Stan Gusciora. And Joe O’Keefe. They was all over. They’d be stealing off a truck. The next day. They’re robbing a jewelry load. The next day. They’re ripping a safe open. The next day. They’re holding a joint up.
Joe O’Keefe was tough. TOUGH. Gus. We called him Gus. And Joe O’Keefe went on the road. There was so much heat! Maybe a month later. Pinched robbing a store. Down in Pennsylvania.
Gus’ girlfriend. I can tell you. Because now she’s dead. She spent ALL of Gus’ money. She had twenty years of spending his money. Gus gave her the money to hold. Stashed in a safe-deposit box. She lived above Bobby Ware’s. On Emerson Street.
Bobby Ware’s was a good barroom. She made the trip. All day long. Up. And down. Up. And down. Drinking. Drinking. Drinking. Jimmy O’Toole shacked up with her. At the time Jimmy was bookmaking. Plus he was bullshitting. He knew Gus. And Joe O’Keefe from bookmaking.
Jimmy would go drinking with her. He’d lose his money gambling. She’d reach in her pocketbook. Come out with money. Give it to him. Pay for the whiskey. And the beers. Jimmy was booking in Uphams Corner. A chinky joint. The Chinese restaurant. And he liked the Chinese people.
Jimmy started booking in the Combat Zone. He made the deal with Joe Peppino. Jimmy stabbed two Navy Commanders. In one of Peppino’s barrooms. That’s when I come in.
Jimmy knew Gus’ girlfriend. Before I come in. At the end. She was disgusting. Did you ever see a good-looking broad? Everybody wants to f… her. Six month later. A walking skeleton. From cancer.
This was from drinking. For about ten years. Nobody would screw her. When Jimmy had her. She was blonde. Nice body. No Marilyn Monroe. Just the average Southie broad.
They did everything to Gus. Trying to make him talk. Gus died in the can. From the beatings. They said he slipped. And hit his head. But they beat him with clubs.
Gus was a little older than me. A tough guy. And a good guy. From the South End. We robbed a car. Used a can opener. It was a legitimate thing. A screwdriver was a burglar tool. A flashlight was a burglar tool. You could put a tiny flashlight. On the end of your keys. Where you put the can opener. ‘I use it at night. To open my house door.’ That’s what you told the cops.
In Lynch’s barroom. Up on Tremont Street. I was jitterbugging with the broads. Gus asked if I had a screwdriver. ‘Why?’ ‘I seen a leather jacket. In a car on LaGrange Street.’ I said, ‘I got my can opener. Come on. I’ll go with you.’
We popped the vent widow. And scooped the jacket. Bing. Bing. Gus had a fence. In the South End. Paid us fifteen bucks. Good barroom money. Beers cost ten cents. Whiskey nips cost fifteen cents. When buying the whiskey nips. You’re a big shot with the broads.
Joe O’Keefe I knew much better. He stood facing Trigger Burke. With two forty-fives. And was firing back. Like you see in the movies. O’Keefe come in the Pen. We talked about gambling. And scores.
Joe O’Keefe. And Billy Brooks made the big score. Over Park Square. In the Statler Hotel. They used paper bags. Put them on for masks. We all used paper bags.
The Statler Hilton stickup was before the Brinks. They grabbed a hundred grand. Some of that money. O’Keefe put with his Brinks money. O’Keefe gave his money to Jazz Maffie. He was holding it for him.
Jazz Maffie. And Henry Baker. Both in the Brinks crew. They blew their money gambling. Baker helped Maffie blow O’Keefe’s money.
O’Keefe started yelling to Maffie. ‘Send me some money. My sister over Edward Everett Square. She’s sick. And she needs money.’ Maffie said, ‘Okay.’ But he didn’t have it. He’s running around to shylocks. Trying to borrow money.
O’Keefe come out. He grabbed the other guys. ‘I want my money. Or I’m going to kill everybody.’ They said, ‘Hold everything. Don’t bother killing us. These are the pricks that took your money.’ Maffie went on the hum-bum. Baker went on the hum-bum. Hiding out. And O’Keefe needed money.
O’Keefe had the tiger’s heart. Another Georgie McLaughlin. Tiger’s heart. Fear nothing. He’d walk into booking joints. ‘Give me your money.’ ‘Sure Joe. Anything you say.’ Show no gun. No knife. Just say, ‘Give me your money (tough voice).’
You’ll never guess what happened to O’Keefe. His old girlfriend was on the mainline. Helen Poskis. Tough as nails. Just like O’Keefe. She started him on the mainline. Right before they tried killing him.
O’Keefe robbed Bernie McGarry’s bookies. And Abie Sarkis. O’Keefe slapped Dorothy McDonald. That was Abie’s wife. She once was O’Keefe’s girlfriend. Dottie grew up in Southie. She was five years younger. Nice when O’Keefe had her.
Dottie bumped into Abie. With the big money. And the big prick. Dottie jumped right on him. She looked like a witch. Wrinkles on top of wrinkles. Abie’s big prick finally got him. Abie was famous for having a big prick. He fell in love with her. And they had two kids.
O’Keefe robbed Abie’s house. Mummified his kids. They put twenty-seven thousand on his head. Brought in Trigger Burke.
Over in Fields Corner. O’Keefe shacked up. He’s walking across the street. Trigger pulled out the machine gun. ‘Barp.’ ‘Barp.’ ‘Barp.’ ‘Barp.’ ‘Barp.’ ‘Barp.’
O’Keefe reached under his coat. Brought out two forty-fives. ‘Caboom.’ ‘Caboom.’ ‘Caboom.’ ‘Caboom.’ Machine gun’s going this way. Forty-five’s going that way. The only one hit. O’Keefe with glancing wounds.
Cops pinched him. Little did they know. We didn’t know it either. He was all junked up. When the feds found out. They put him in solitary. So he was really protected. They took away the junk. He wasn’t protected. Tore his heart apart. He flipped for the junk. To get the f…ing juice.
They had him there. Something like three months. It was bad enough. That he ratted out. But only one week! Crime of the century. They had the suspects. But not enough evidence. ONE WEEK. The feds indicted them.
O’Keefe got all squared away. Come out smelling like a rose. Shipped him to the West Coast. Guess who he ended up chauffeuring? Gary Grant. O’Keefe saw a newspaper advertisement. ‘Driver – Chauffeur.’ He said, ‘I can drive.’ Bingo. O’Keefe had a good sense of humor. They become pretty-good friends. Finding out his real name. Gary Grant really loved him.
O’Keefe didn’t have to worry. Everybody was in the can. The Brinks crew wasn’t killers. Guess who made them killers? Paul Smith the lawyer. He sold them out.
Paul Smith stood up in court. ‘Whose idea was it to bring in the submachine gun? It was your idea (points finger).’ ‘What are you talking about? We had no submachine gun.’ But he was showing the jury. They’re all VICIOUS GUNMEN. Sentenced them to life. Paul Smith got three free cases.
Three free cases for clients. Believe me. I know! Because I used one. And Larry used one.
The Brinks truck back door. You jam a crowbar in. Pull it back like this (pulls hand back). The door pops right open. There was metal boxes inside. With padlocks on them. Holding leather cases. See a black leather case. You knew there was money.
Did you ever see an ammunition box? A steel-ammunition box. Put a padlock on it. That’s what was in there. They had two of them. For holding the black cases. Long black-leather cases. With payrolls in them. There could be two. In each steel box.
Just jump in. Bang the padlocks. Ones. Fives. Tens. Twenties. And fifties. Very seldom hundreds. People wasn’t making big money. If they had a payroll coming in. It was for eighty thousand dollars. That’s what it would be. Eighty thousand in different denominations. It needed a large case.
We got lucky. Brinks truck door was rusty. I said, ‘Shit. We could kick that open.’ Crowbar was laying against the building. ‘Why kick it open? Here’s a crowbar.’ I jammed the crowbar in. The door popped opened. I banged the padlocks. They flew apart. But nothing was inside.
This was on Albany Street. Don’t know where the Brinks guys went. Maybe a candy factory. Or one of the shoe factories. Did you ever hear of a Brinks truck? It’s going down the highway. The door pops open. They have slam locks. Bend the door back. The lock jumps out.
In downtown Boston. A Brinks truck stopped. Two guards stepped out. They opened the side door. Both took a black case. I said, ‘Oh shit. We’re screwed.’ We thought it would be empty. Because they took two black cases. I popped the back door. Guess what’s in there? A Brinks guard sleeping.
We spread that story. Told it to everybody. Guess what’s in The Brinks movie? A Brinks guard sleeping in the back!”
Afraid- You have gem of a book coming pal!!
Stippo did claim he had some new huge info he planned on testifying to then Wyshak and the boy’s decided not to use him.
Stippo was mad and leaves the courthouse, found dead the next day in the same clothes he was wearing at court minus his wallet and car. After Weeks openly stated he didn’t like Rakes!
Wonder where Kevin or Pat Nee or a cast of hundreds were that day?
Wonder what Rakes thought he knew that was so huge?
Wonder why the cops initially mentioned suicide?
Wonder how and why Rakes got to Lincoln?
Hmm, well I’m sure the AUTHORITIES will get to the bottom of it!
Wondering why, how and when Weeks got Lincoln: When was last time friends, relative saw him; Who in Lincoln saw his car? Did anyone see him walking nine miles through Lincoln. He was a man you’d recognize walking alongside a road. Was his death a warning to others not to question the FEDs witnesses, such as Weeks, not to tell the truth, not to speak openly and honestly. There are thousands of questions. This is real life murder mystery of a well like, quiet, dignified man in his late fifties who wasn’t hurting anyone as far as I know. Too many questions!!! Please people of Boston; don’t accept a Whitewash!!!! Demand answers!!! Probe deeply!!! “Something’s rotten in the State of Denmark!”
Notoboyo:
If it is a homicide then every day the cops think it is a suicide – a strange one at that – that’s another day that allows the evidence to become stale
New (to me) on the powers of the FBI. Hoover would be envious.
“National Security Letters were created in the 1970s for the purpose of investigating terrorism and espionage and narrowly allowed the FBI to investigate the customer records of individuals that were suspected of being foreign agents. Thanks to GW and the Patriot Act, the FBI has transformed the use of NSLs to include all United States residents and visitors, whether or not they are allegedly spies or terrorists.”
Read more about NSLs:
http://viableopposition.blogspot.ca/2013/06/national-security-letters-slipping.html
Henry:
The FBI like a good running back just needed the slightest bit of daylight to rush forward and make a scoring run. The implementation of the Patriot At tossed the 4th Amendment out the window and the courts feared shutting it.
In the past an associate of Bulger and Weeks was found dead in his home years ago with no signs of trauma.
The word on the “street” was it was a hit because this person had robbed an OC connected business and the hit was given to The Hill to execute. Weeks had threatened the victim who went on the run always wearing a bulletproof vest and armed at all times.
The SP ruled it a suicide, toxicology reports found undigested heroin in the victims stomach!. The vistim didn’t drink or do drugs.
Drug addicts don’t eat heroin! But the powers that be closed the case out.
The victims brother was then targeted, he too went on the run but in short order was found dead in his girlfriends apartment. No signs of trauma. This victim had initially planned on testifying against Weeks and Bulger even having gone so far to wear a wire for LE, not the FBI.
Once word of his cooperation got out it was over.
Both deaths ruled accidental/suicide yet both victims were on the run from OC and Winter Hill. These all occurred in the early 90’s.
Organized crime learned from the Irish Mafia wars of the 60’s when bodies were piling up all over the region, most gunned down like a wild west show courtesy of Flemmi, Matroran and Salemme. The broad daylight shootouts brought alot of media attention which in turn forced law enforcement to act.
A quiet “hotshot” creating an overdose is the much preferred method of execution today. Quite, no attention but just as lethal.
Welcome to Boston where the “hits” keep on coming.
A nine mile drive sounds about the right amount of time to overdose..
Jim:
You mean a nine mile walk.
Matt, touche.
At this point in time, testifying against Bulger wouldn’t result in his death especially since rakes was no longer going to testify. His death might be related to all the stuff surrounding this case but it’s something other than what he had already been talking about for the past 30 years.
Jan, it aint necessarily so. There are two types of talk: what you’ve been saying for 30 years; and what you are prepared to say before a federal judge and jury. Perhaps someone was concerned B.C. (Brennan-Carney) would call Steve Rakes for the very limited purpose of punching holes in Weeks’ testimony. That done, the jury would look askance at everything the FEDs threw at them. The jury would throw up. As I understand it, if the defense calls a witness and asks only a dozen questions, then basically (excluding background stuff and clarifying stuff) the prosecution’s cross-exam would be limited. Whether limited or not, if B.C. called Steve Rakes, perhaps Weeks and most other prosecution witnesses would be proven to be perjurer, or at least, liars in the minds of the jurors.
Rakes didn’t need to be called as a witness to say anything. The media would have been right on him if he decided to say more. Remember Rakes didn’t say he had more to say….Steven Davis said that Rakes said….I’m not saying Rakes did not have anything more to say, I’m just pointing out that nobody else except Steve Davis has said this. Another consideration is that some Southie boys are very good at causing a bru ha ha, they exaggerate things which inflates their egos yet can lead to incidents such as Rakes untimely death.
Jan:
We have to wait on this case, not as long as we do on the case of Tsarnaev I hope – but it will be curious to find out what happened to Stippo.
Notoboyo:
Enjoyable comment. Who were those brothers?
maybe red shea beat him up with his thoughts! lol
Lol. Flemmi saunters back into town and in no time somebody talked Flemmi into talking someone else into talking to Rakes to lure Rakes to his demise….I think Flemmi talks to himself. Lol
Matt, any idea where flemmi’s being held in Boston? Granted it very well could be the seaport hotel, was wondering if they would keep him in a holding cell while he’s “in federal custody” for the trial.
Flemmi is staying in the spare bedroom at Wyshak’s house.
Good one.
Patty:
Not so. Wyshak gave him the main bedroom. He went to the spare bedroom in the basement.
Jim:
No idea where he is staying but I’m sure he’s eating well, lobster roll anyone?, on your dime. I’m not sure whose custody he is in. It’s not the Bureau of Prisons. So it is a special DOJ arrangement and Benji has a deal with the prosecutors that he’d be well treated so he’s not spending his time in a cell.
Jan:
Did you notice when Rakes was no longer under the watchful eye of the prosecutors, he died. It seems that as long as he was a potential witness he was not on the hit list.
PAT2E:
Red was mad enought to do that.
MY MONEY IS ON FORTNIGHT!!!!! A THANK YOU FROM NEE, OF YOUTUBE FAME????
It’s been 5 days since he went missing, with no update or call to the public for help, msp has to know who did it. I hope they don’t cover this up. This isn’t the 80’s in Massachusetts anymore.
Jim:
I guess the autopsy ruled out trauma and heart attack as the cause of death. That leaves some type of poisoning. I’d thnik the cops would be beating the bushes and not waiting for an answer.
PAT2E:
That’s a pretty safe bet.
Flemmi’s arrival back in town coincides with Rakes’ untimely death simultaneously with Edward MacKenzie’s release just after MacKenzie’s detention hearing that same Tuesday. I doubt he committed suicide, doubt anyone threatened his family. All other things remain the same, his testimony hasn’t been kept under wraps all these years, Rakes’ version of events has been well known for years except for the “bombshell” Steve Davis cited that Rakes recently told him about without revealing the details.
Jan- Eddy Mackenzie is out of jail after gutting a church of it’s finances and community?? GOD help us all!
Apparently, released with an electric GPS dog collar. What happened to Stippo? Check his list of FB friends, had to have been someone he knew who was able to lure him to a meeting place.
Pardon me, meant electronic gps not electric. Lol
Jan:
Good point. They met at the McDonald’s in Waltham. Stippo got out of the car and went into the “friend’s” car. They drove off and what happened after that, a nitro oxide tent, or some other foul play remains to be seen. The drop spot showed it was picked for a quick getaway.
Matt, the skullduggery or misfeasance in the Naimovitch case leads me to ask these questions about the unexpected death of Steve Rakes: (1) Why would a healthy, athletic, daily working out, grandfather with lots of family and friends supporting him suddenly take his own life or suddenly have a heart attack while strolling through the woods? Neither is feasible. (2) Did the FEDs put Rakes on the witness list to keep him quiet, knowing they’d never use his testimony. Remember his testimony flatly contradicted the FEDs key witness Weeks on many salient material points. (3) When a day or two before his sudden death, the FEDs told him he wouldn’t be a witness, did the FEDs threaten him or his family in any way, urge to remain silent, counsel against speaking or testifying for B.C. team (Brennan-Carney) lest he be prosecuted for “perjury-trumped up” or sued by (Weeks, let’s say, another trumped up threat) and did this fear for his family, like AfraidofFBI’s well founded fears of the FEDs, drive him not to flee, but to take his own life, to protect family and friends. (4) Were those in the employ of the FEDs (gangsters/killers are on the FEDs payroll) act as described in #3, either at the direction, suggestion of the FEDs or on their own protecting their own hides or their friendly FED friends’ hides? (4) Do you know how easy it is to “dart” a black bear, and then fill its throat and gut with a solution of oxycontins/barbiturates to make it seem like the Bear committed suicide? Just questions. Steve’s death remains a mystery, a deep mystery. Also, remember how benign the people of Germany thought their new progressive government was in the 1930s. If anyone suggested wrongful acts by government employees, they’d be mocked, treated, shocked, or whipped out of court in the 1930s.
Matt- Honestly for me this trial is secondary until it is clear what happened to Stephen Rakes. I am praying it is medical, although the odds are going down fast that it is not, with evidence of the car 9 miles away, no keys, no id , no phone. not a good feeling here. RIP STEPHEN RAKES!
Doubting:
Medical is usually found in the autopsy. Something doesn’t sit right. If FBI gets involved we’ll never know why he died.
William:
1. That theory he took his life or had a heart attack is pretty much out with his car being found at a McDonald’s in Waltham.
2. Good question – they wanted him to prove Whitey extorted the place from him but he did contradict Weeks. Don’t know the answer to that.
3. The federals told him he wouldn’t be a witness on the day he died. I don’t think the federals would threaten him. The defense team already said they were not going to use him.
4. The federals had nothing to do with his death.
4. I’m sure it’s easy to fake a suicide but to do that you wouldn’t leave the car 9 miles from the body.
The significance of the federal action in taking Rakes off the witness list was pushing him out from under the federal tent. No one would want to hurt him while he was a federal witness for fear the full force of the federals would come down on them. They waited. Once they learned he was no longer protected they moved as quickly as they could.
Matt, I agree Naimovich got screwed. I suspect the FEDs ordered Ring to finger McIntyre, knowing if Naimovich was implicated, the FEDs could continue their own programs/skullduggery, depending on your viewpoint.
William:
100s of potential suspects in a leak and Ring sends the state police after naimovich – wait until you hear who the leak actually was.