April 26, 2005
BY
STEVE WARMBIR,
ROBERT C. HERGUTH
AND
FRANK MAIN Staff
Reporters
When Frank Calabrese Sr., Chicago's
most notorious loan
shark, was in prison
with his son Frank
Jr., he spilled some
Outfit secrets.
Secrets involving details of mob
murders, law
enforcement sources
said.
Secrets that Frank Calabrese Sr.
never should have
uttered once the
deadly deeds were
done, according to
Outfit code.
Secrets that were caught on tape.
Doing the taping was Frank Calabrese
Jr., who put his
life on the line by
wearing a listening
device while in
prison to help build
a case against his
father.
Some of those secrets unfolded into
public view Monday
as federal
prosecutors revealed
what is described as
the most significant
racketeering
indictment ever
against the Chicago
Outfit. As part of
the federal
Operation Family
Secrets, prosecutors
charged the entire
Outfit as a criminal
enterprise and laid
18 murders and one
attempted murder at
the doorstep of the
Chicago mob.
"Today, the Outfit takes a hit," U.S.
Attorney Patrick
Fitzgerald said.
Robert D. Grant, head of the FBI in
Chicago, said the
indictment "gets to
the heart of what
the [Outfit] really
is: a bunch of
murderous thugs."
The Outfit won't be shut down by the
indictment, but it
does mark the first
time several crew
leaders were charged
in one case. The
feds want $10
million in
forfeiture from the
racketeering
defendants and a
Cicero building
where an illegal
video poker business
was allegedly run.
Former cops charged
Calabrese Sr., 68 and still in prison
in Milan, Mich., on
a separate case, was
indicted along with
James Marcello, 63,
of Lombard and the
man who allegedly
runs the Chicago mob
day-to-day, and
Grand Avenue crew
boss Joey "The
Clown" Lombardo, 75,
of Chicago, who was
on the lam Monday
night. Also on the
run was brutal mob
enforcer Frank "The
German" Schweihs,
75, last believed to
be in Florida.
Two former Chicago Police officers --
Anthony "Twan" Doyle
and Michael Ricci, a
onetime bodyguard
for Frank Sinatra --
were charged as
well. Doyle, 60, of
Wickenburg, Ariz.,
and Ricci, 75, of
Streamwood,
allegedly provided
inside information
or passed along
messages from
Calabrese Sr. while
he was in prison to
the mob.
In all, 14 people were charged in the
indictment, which
sketches how the
Outfit makes its
money in the Chicago
area, from running
video poker machines
to shaking down
businesses. Seven
men were in court
Monday, all of them
pleading not guilty.
Another man, alleged
mob killer Frank
Saladino, was found
dead in a Hampshire
hotel, apparently of
natural causes, when
FBI and IRS agents
went on their early
Monday morning sweep
to round him and
other mobsters up.
Frank Calabrese Sr.'s son isn't the
only person helping
build a case against
the allegedly brutal
Calabrese Sr.
Calabrese Sr.'s brother Nick also has
been spilling Outfit
secrets to the feds
for several years.
Nick Calabrese would be in a position
to know, sources
said. He and
Calabrese Sr., both
made men in the
Outfit, allegedly
participated in mob
hits together.
Nick Calabrese was motivated to
cooperate in part by
a personal betrayal
-- by his own
brother.
Frank Calabrese Sr., while in prison,
allegedly was
presented with the
possibility that
Nick Calabrese could
be cooperating.
If that was true, Frank Calabrese Sr.
allegedly had no
objections to his
brother being
murdered.
When Nick Calabrese learned of this,
it persuaded him to
cooperate,
authorities said.
Bloody glove
Another factor behind the cooperation
was that agents tied
Nick Calabrese to
the 1986 hit of John
Fecarotta, a mob
enforcer, the
Chicago Sun-Times
first reported.
Calabrese left behind a bloody glove
after he nearly
botched the hit of
Fecarotta and got
shot himself. Years
later, investigators
using DNA technology
linked the bloody
glove to Nick
Calabrese. Frank
Calabrese Sr. also
allegedly
participated in the
murder.
That bloody glove was a key piece of
evidence. When the
FBI came to collect
it from the Chicago
Police evidence room
several years ago,
Frank Calabrese Sr.
learned of it while
in prison -- from a
police officer
assigned to the
evidence room,
according to the
indictment and
sources.
Doyle worked at the evidence and
recovered property
unit throughout the
1990s.
The feds had a listening device in a
visiting room of the
prison where Frank
Calabrese Sr. is
being held. When
Doyle came to tell
him of the FBI's
renewed interest in
the glove, the feds
taped the
conversation,
authorities said.
Doyle is a childhood
friend of a onetime
top lieutenant of
Frank Calabrese Sr.,
Ronald Jarrett, who
was gunned down in
1999, sources said.
Also helping Calabrese Sr. was Ricci,
a former Chicago
Police detective and
later the head of
electronic
monitoring for the
Cook County
sheriff's office
until 2000,
authorities allege.
Ricci, in poor health and in a
wheelchair in court
on Monday, admitted
knowing Calabrese
Sr. for decades and
visiting him in
prison but denied
helping him
improperly.
In addition to the mob murders,
authorities charged
James Marcello's
brother, Michael
Marcello, with
helping his brother
run Outfit
operations while
James Marcello was
in prison. The
brothers' alleged
illegal video poker
business in Cicero,
M & M Amusement,
gave $500 to Friends
of Blagojevich on
June 29, 2002,
according to state
campaign finance
records reviewed by
the Sun-Times.
Pete Giangreco, a spokesman for Gov.
Blagojevich's
campaign, said
tracking such
donations was
impossible given the
high number of them,
but said the
campaign would
return the money.
Dressing down in
court
Despite the millions of dollars
coming into the
Outfit, the reputed
mobsters in court on
Monday were not at
their most
fashionable.
Top mob boss James Marcello, for
instance, wore gray
sweats.
In the audience were family members
of the defendants
and of the men who
were slain.
One man, Anthony Ortiz, was 12 when
his father, Richard
Ortiz, was
shotgunned to death
in 1983 as part of a
mob hit in Cicero.
Ortiz, now 34,
brought his father's
mother, who is 85,
to the proceedings
as well.
They had both visited his grave just
the day before.
While Ortiz says he wants more
details on his
father's death, he
still can't believe
charges were finally
brought in the case.
"This is something I've been waiting
for, for 22 years."
Contributing: Maureen
O'Donnell and Dan
Rozek