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tijd.livejournal.com
В связи с новой ролью, которую Руди Джулиани обрёл в качестве адвоката Трампа в Рашагейта, несколько историй про “deplorable” номер семь.
1. Руди и итальянская мафия.
Семья Руди Джулиани (его отец и дядя) имела связи с итальянской мафией. Это не помешало команде прокуроров во главе с Джулиани, включая молодого Джима Коми, успешно бороться с итальянской мафией в криминальном Нью-Йорке 1980ых. Для выкорчёвывания организованной преступности ФБР с участием Боба Мюллера разработало тактику постепенного закатывания мафиозных семей с финальным выходом на крестных отцов путём склонения их подчиненных к сотрудничеству.
Mr. Giuliani was an enthusiastic fan of “The Sopranos,” once joking that HBO set its celebrated series about an everyday mob family in New Jersey because he had done such a good job driving the Mafia out of New York.
During Mr. Giuliani’s days as a United States attorney, his office was labeled the “House of Pancakes” for the parade of suspects who “flipped” to try to reduce their prison sentences.
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/08/23/us/politics/trump-vocabulary-mob.html
В своей книжке Коми так описывает свою работу с "Sammy the Bull" Гравано, который предал своего босса Джона Готти и таким образом сыграл ключевую роль в разгроме мафии:
During the day, I was in court as Mutolo testified, spilling the secrets of the Mafia’s reign of death and crime, while my evenings were spent meeting with Sammy the Bull Gravano in a safe house controlled by the United States Marshals Service. Gravano had previously testified in Brooklyn federal court against family boss John Gotti, where defense lawyers made much of his involvement in nineteen homicides. Sammy the Bull didn’t know it, but part of our strategy was to present the Mob killers in such a way that the jury would actually be bored with the details of Mob murders by the time Gravano, our star witness, hit the stand. Our hope was that this would make Gravano more palatable to the jury.
Gravano, though, saw this as a bit of professional embarrassment. One evening I walked into a safe-house conference room. Gravano threw a New York tabloid onto the table before me with a look of disgust. He had been reading an article about the grim body count of our Sicilian killer witnesses, which was far higher than his own. Pointing at the paper, Gravano barked, “Jesus, Jimmy, you’re makin’ me look like a fuckin’ schoolgirl.”
Thanks to the work of dozens of investigators and prosecutors, La Cosa Nostra’s grip on unions was broken, its leaders jailed, and its dominance on both sides of the Atlantic shattered. John Gambino’s trial jury actually hung 11–1 on all the most serious charges, in suspicious circumstances, but he pled guilty before his retrial, was sentenced to fifteen years in federal prison, and has since died. There are still people in New York who call themselves Italian Mafia, but it is a motley collection of low-level criminals that would embarrass Lucky Luciano. It more closely resembles The Sopranos, without the therapist.
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