Authors: Gay Talese
A
FTER THE
J
URY LEFT THE COURTROOM
, P
HILLIPS MADE
application to the judge that Bonanno and Notaro be held in custody until the day of sentencing.
“The basis of the government’s application in this particular case is as follows,” Phillips said. “Mr. Salvatore Bonanno is the son of Joseph Bonanno, who is the leader of the well-known family, the Bonanno family. Approximately two or three years ago there was an intermural war within this family. As a result of this war, there were twelve public shootings and of those twelve shootings, six people were killed, six people were wounded. In addition to which, during that time and subsequent to that time in Tucson, Arizona, where Mr. Joseph Bonanno lives and where Mr. Salvatore Bonanno had been living, there were a number of bombings, explosions of TNT in business establishments, residences, and other places, other buildings.
“It is the government’s information that this was also a direct effect or cause of this Bonanno war,” Phillips continued, as Krieger shook his head, amazed at the outdated and incorrect information that the prosecutor was quoting. “The fear that the people of Tucson live in of the Bonannos could have been reflected on each of the witnesses’ faces,” Phillips went on, insistently, as the judge listened. “Mr. Walters, for example [the ticket counter employee for American Airlines in Tucson]. I submit that in addition to which Mr. Don Torrillo, who was a witness here, will also be a witness in a case where the defendant Bonanno is under indictment in the Eastern District for income tax evasion and that his safety is endangered. Mr. Notaro was the bodyguard for Mr. Joseph Bonanno and is presently or had been the bodyguard for his son, Salvatore Bonanno, and is directly linked with these shootings as is Mr. Salvatore Bonanno.”
Krieger wanted to interrupt, but Judge Mansfield held up his hand signaling Krieger to wait. And Phillips went on: “I submit that under all the circumstances it would be in the best interests of justice and the best interests of the public and society at large that Mr. Salvatore Bonanno and Mr. Notaro be remanded. I have not mentioned the fact that Mr. Bonanno lives in California and Tucson and has no roots whatsoever here in New York and neither does Mr. Notaro, as his home is in Tucson, Arizona, at the present time.”
“I am not quite clear from what you said,” Judge Mansfield cut in, “how you attribute any of this danger that you say exists to the community or to persons to the defendants here.”
“The fact is of the bombings out in Tucson, Arizona,” Phillips replied, “Mr. Joe Bonanno’s house was bombed at one time, there were other business establishments which were bombed.”
“You think his son bombed his house?” the judge asked, facetiously.
The government has information,” Phillips said, “that some of the business establishments that were bombed were bombed on orders of either Mr. Salvatore Bonanno or Mr. Joe Bonanno, Jr., or Mr. Bonanno, Sr.”
Krieger and Bill Bonanno were both shaking there heads now, and Krieger finally appealed to the judge loudly, “May I respond to something of my own knowledge, Your Honor?”
“Yes.”
“As far as this Tucson, Arizona, situation is concerned, an FBI agent by the name of Hale has been relieved of service as a result of charges leveled against him by two people who were arrested and indicted in Tucson, Arizona, who have also been charged with committing the bombings which Mr. Phillips just lavishly lays at the door of the Bonannos.” Phillips seemed puzzled by the remark, having heard nothing about the FBI’s involvement—that story, unlike the previous bomb reports from Tucson that held the Mafia responsible, had not been featured in
The New York Times
or other New York papers. Phillips was hearing this now for the first time, and he did not interrupt as Krieger explained, “Mr. Bonanno was home and Salvatore Bonanno was home when the Bonanno home was bombed. It just does not stand to reason that he is planting bombs in his own house to blow himself up.”
The judge listened patiently, though without great interest, to the story about the Tucson bombings; he had already made up his mind to free Bonanno and Notaro on bail until the day of sentencing, and merely wished to warn them that this temporary freedom would be reconsidered “if there comes to the attention of the court the slightest indication of any violence or harm to the community or threatening or intimidation or tampering with witnesses who are likely to appear in any other criminal proceeding.”
Bill Bonanno was released on $15,000 bail, Notaro on $10,000, and the day of sentencing was put off until after the Christmas holidays.
Before Bill and Notaro turned to leave the courtroom, which was now nearly empty, the judge turned to them and said, reassuringly, “Your counsel did everything that could possibly have been done on your behalf. I just think the government had a very strong case from what I see with respect particularly as to the defendant Bonanno. So I don’t think when you start second-guessing this you can say that your counsel moved the wrong way at some stage. They didn’t.”
The defendants nodded in agreement, and then, with Krieger and Sandier, they left the courtroom. Bill and Notaro, excited and relieved that they were out on bail, went directly toward telephone booths to relay the news of their conviction to their families, and then to check out of the hotel and fly home for the weekend. The attorneys planned to appeal the conviction and to remain alert for new evidence that might benefit their clients’ cause, although they did not anticipate anything specific, and they were both disappointed and dejected by the jury’s decision.
Then suddenly and unexpectedly, on the following Monday, their hopes were revived. Leonard Sandier, walking through the criminal courthouse on Monday morning, met a friend of his, a lawyer, who during a brief conversation about the Bonanno case asked if the witness, Don A. Torrillo, was the same individual who was a codefendant in another case in which this lawyer’s client was also involved. Sandler was surprised to hear that Torrillo had another case pending, and when he asked what Torrillo’s indictment was about, his friend said it concerned a “bucket shop”—a fraudulent brokerage house. Sandler quickly left to check the records, and he soon discovered that Torrillo had been named a year and a half ago in a 99-count indictment. The date on the indictment was May 25, 1968, which was a little more than two months after Perrone’s death; and it was obvious from the docket entries that little legal action had been taken on Torrillo’s case. If Sandler was prone to jumping to conclusions, which he was not, he might assume that the government had exhibited considerably less enthusiasm in prosecuting Torrillo than it had demonstrated in the Bonanno-Notaro case. Bonanno had been indicted for the credit card episode in early December 1968, six months after Torrillo had been indicted for federal securities violations; and, if nothing else, it meant that when the government was interrogating Torrillo during 1968–1969 about his credit card, it had more on him than the mere fact of his arrest by twenty policemen immediately after Perrone’s death—an arrest on the “trumped-up charges” of heroin possession that Phillips had referred to the previous week in the courtroom.
Sandier called Krieger and also asked for an appointment with Judge Mansfield. The request was granted, and at 5:00
P.M.
on Wednesday, November 19, the two defense attorneys met with the judge and were joined by Walter Phillips.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” the judge asked after they had assembled.
Sandier replied: “Your Honor, I asked your clerk if we could have a conference as a result of something I learned on Monday morning, and the purpose of the conference, as I see it, is not for me to make any motions but simply tell the court, in the presence of Mr. Phillips, what came to my attention which will, I assume, be the subject of a subsequent motion.”
After relating what he had learned, Sandler said that he wanted to be certain before proceeding further that his information was factually correct.
“Well, what do you know about this?” the judge asked, looking at Phillips.
“I can verify, Your Honor,” Phillips said, “that this Mr. Torrillo, the same Mr. Torrillo who testified in the trial last week, is under indictment in the Southern District for a security violation, and so I don’t think that we need to go any further. It is the same man. I gather that the reason that Mr. Sandler is bringing this up is because he would have liked to have had that information last week in order to cross-examine Mr. Torrillo about it. I would naturally have objected to it since it would not be a felony conviction and therefore not proper to be brought up for impeachment purposes in cross-examination. It is only an indictment and it has not been brought to trial.”
“Well,” asked the judge, “what is the status of that other case?”
“I think motions have been decided in the case,” Phillips said. “It is awaiting trial. That is the status of the case.”
“Your Honor,” Sandler said, “I don’t think that argument is appropriate at this point, and having said that, I throw in one spear if Your Honor will indulge me. In a fairly extensive experience, both as a prosecutor and as a defense lawyer, I have never ever heard of a situation in which a witness is under indictment and it was for the office where he is under indictment, in which there was not discussion between that office and himself or his attorney with regard to the effect on his case of his testimony, and I would find it hard to believe that that did not exist in this case, that it was not something which ought to have been furnished to us under the
Brady
v.
Maryland
rule, if no other rule.”
“I don’t know about Brady-Maryland,” said Judge Mansfield, “but it seems to me—am I wrong?—that there was some questioning of some witness with respect to whether he didn’t have an indictment pending?”
“I recall, Your Honor,” Sandler said, “because we had a minsunderstanding about it, and I was very perplexed at the time, having…”
“Oh, I remember,” the judge interrupted, “you started to ask about whether a fellow had been indicted for perjury.”
“Right,” said Sandler.
“And I thought you were just going to try to bring out an indictment which I do not consider subject matter for impeachment. Then your twist was that you were going to, in effect, imply that because he had not been indicted for perjury, therefore certain inferences could be drawn. So then I said all right.”
“Yes,” Sandler agreed, “it was a misunderstanding between us.”
“You could put it in,” the judge continued. “But on this one, I will wait until I see your motion. I can’t comment until I see it, I suppose.”
“For whatever informational value, Your Honor,” Krieger said, “my recollection of that indictment number is 68 CR.471. Do you recall that Mr. Sandier?” Sandler confirmed it.
“Well,” said the judge, “we will check. If I have that indictment, it is unbeknownst to me because I wouldn’t have, I haven’t any recollection of seeing an indictment against a fellow named Torrillo. The only time I ever heard of the name Torrillo was in this case.” The judge turned toward his clerk, a tweedy young man with a red moustache, and asked, “Isn’t that right?”
“No, I haven’t been here long enough, but we have never…”
The judge cut him off, saying “No, I don’t remember. I’d know if I had, I would think, unless I got it by some curious quirk unbeknownst to me. So, we will check.” Turning to his clerk again, the judge asked, “You have got the number?”
“Yes.”
“I will await your papers,” the judge said to Sandler and Krieger. They thanked him and left.
Judge Mansfield received the papers and reviewed them during the next two months, with the day of sentencing meanwhile postponed from January 1970 until March. On February 3, a posttrial hearing was held in which, among other people, Sergeant Robert J. O’Neil was called to testify about Torrillo’s indictment, O’Neil being one of the police officers who had interviewed Torrillo after Perrone’s death.
“At the time when you participated in those interviews,” Judge Mansfield asked O’Neil at the posttrial hearing, “did you have any knowledge regarding an indictment that had been filed in this court in late May naming Don A. Torrillo and various others in connection with charges of alleged violations of the federal securities laws?”
“Did I have knowledge of an indictment at that time? No, sir,” O’Neil said. “No, I did not.”
Another witness, however, a postal inspector named William O’Keefe who had participated prominently in the credit card case against Bonanno and Notaro, testified that the subject of Torrillo’s pending indictment had once been discussed in Phillips’s office before the Bonanno trial.
The subject had been raised by Torrillo himself, O’Keefe recalled, adding that Torrillo had inquired about what could be done about his indictment. But Phillips had “shut off” Torrillo, O’Keefe testified, explaining that “Phillips simply told him [Torrillo] he didn’t want to know nothing about that trial until after the [Bonanno] case.” Sandler received permission to question the witness, and he asked O’Keefe: “At this conversation when Mr. Phillips said he didn’t want to hear anything about the other indictment until after the trial, did he say until after the Bonanno trial?”
“I may have phrased it incorrectly,” O’Keefe replied. “I believe he said that. He said he would check with the attorney and find out about it, who had it, and that he didn’t want to know anything about it. It was a very short conversation where he shut him off and there was very little to it.”
“Did he say anything about possibly talking to Mr. Torrillo about the indictment after the Bonanno trial?” Sandler asked.
“Negative, sir.”
“Never said that?”
“No, sir,” O’Keefe repeated.
“In your presence?”
“No, sir, he did not.”
“Did Mr. Phillips ever discuss with you the Torrillo indictment in the absence of Mr. Torrillo?”
“He may have asked me if I knew anything about it or something in that context,” O’Keefe said. “But beyond that, no sir.”