Cullotta: The Life of a Chicago Criminal, Las Vegas Mobster and Government Witness (26 page)

No weapons were found on Blasko or any of the other arrestees.

When agents and officers entered the store, they found that the burglars’ second hole in the roof had been accurate, located directly over the safe. Burglary tools were found nearby and several holes had already been drilled into the safe in an effort to open it. Leo Guardino had been a busy man during his short time inside the building.

Joe Yablonsky and Kent Clifford held a press conference shortly after the arrests were made. They told reporters that Frank Cullotta, age 43, Joe Blasko, age 45, Leo Guardino, age 47, and Ernest Davino, age 34, all of Las Vegas, were in custody. Also arrested were Lawrence Neumann, age 53, of McHenry, Illinois, and Wayne Matecki, age 30, of Northridge, Illinois. The six men were charged with burglary, conspiracy to commit burglary, attempted grand larceny, and possession of burglary tools. They were all lodged in the Clark County Jail.

When reporters asked how the lawmen happened to be in the area at the time of the burglary, Yablonsky and Clifford turned vague. In fact, they lied outright when they denied that the arrests were the result of an informant’s tip. The reporters also weren’t told that Sal Romano, an expert at disabling alarm systems and an FBI informant, was working as a part of the gang’s counter-surveillance team. When the signal was broadcast to arrest the burglars, Romano was immediately removed from the area and placed in the Witness Protection Program. His role in the Bertha’s operation wasn’t made known to the general public until much later.

In many respects, the Bertha’s bust was a great victory for both the FBI and Metro. For one, it proved that the two major law-enforcement agencies had overcome their prior differences and could work together. For another, it was instrumental in getting one of the key criminal players to switch sides and become a government witness, sending shockwaves from Las Vegas to Chicago and beyond.

Although the involvement of Sal Romano in the Bertha’s job had dampened Frank’s enthusiasm for the score, he put his concerns aside and went along on the heist. It turned out to be a night he will never forget.

The crew split up into two groups. Blasko, Neumann, and Cullotta were responsible for monitoring police activity and keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Blasko was in the van parked in the entrance to the Commercial Center shopping mall opposite Bertha’s. Neumann and Cullotta cruised the area in their cars. Romano was told to ride with Neumann. When he wanted to know why he couldn’t be alone, Neumann told him there was no need for him to be anywhere but with him; they would listen to the police calls on the radio. Neumann was prepared to take Romano out of the area and kill him if he pulled anything funny. Guardino, Matecki, and Davino drove the station wagon and were assigned to do the actual burglary.

Frank was driving a new Buick Riviera with a CB radio built in. Neumann and Romano were in Neumann’s Caddy. Frank and Lurch had good communications and thought Romano was more or less neutralized.

The burglars unloaded their station wagon and got all their equipment up on the roof. When they were almost ready to break through, Romano was sent to move the station wagon closer to the store. He reported back to Neumann by walkie-talkie that the wagon wouldn’t start and he was unable to move it. Frank stopped by the allegedly disabled station wagon to see what the problem was. He turned the key and it started right up. He radioed Neumann, “There’s nothing wrong with this goddamn car. Where’s Sal?”

Frank’s instincts told him trouble was brewing. “Find the son of a bitch!”

Right about then the burglars radioed that they had gotten through and were inside the store. “I can see the vault. It’s only cinder block; we’re in,” Guardino gloated.

As Frank listened to Guardino’s good news, he checked his rear-view mirror and found a van right on his tail. He drove into a shopping center parking lot with a lot of people around and the van pulled him over. The occupants of the van jumped out, hollering “FBI!” and “Metro!” They got Frank out of his car and told him to put his hands on the hood and not to move. They searched him and his car. After that he was handcuffed, put in the van, and read his rights. As they left the parking lot for Bertha’s, Frank heard a radio transmission that Blasko had been captured, along with all the radio equipment. When they pulled up in front of the store, he saw Guardino, Matecki, and Davino face down on the concrete with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Neumann had been picked up, too. Everybody was accounted for. Except Sal Romano.

Almost as soon as the burglars were booked into the jail, Frank started searching for Sal Romano. He wasn’t in the lockup; nobody had seen him and nobody knew where he was. Somebody said Romano must have gotten away.

“Bullshit,” Frank said. “He’s a fucking informant and he set us up.”

Joe Blasko didn’t believe it. “Tony would never have let that happen.”

Frank said, “I never trusted that bastard and I told Tony about it several times. But Tony knew it all, and here we are.”

The arrestees were put in cells side by side, so they were still able to talk. But because of concerns that the cells were bugged, they were careful about what they said. Blasko complained that he couldn’t stay in jail. He said he had obligations and asked Frank to get him bonded out first. Frank agreed and assumed Tony was already working on it. He wasn’t.

Frank called the Upper Crust and talked to Nick Rossi. His father-in-law said Romano had phoned wanting to know if he was the only one who escaped. When Rossi asked how he had managed to get away, Romano hung up on him.

Frank used one of the phone calls he was allowed to call the gang’s regular bondsman and find out why he wasn’t there getting the guys out. The answer was simple: Frank’s call was the first he’d heard about the arrests. Tony hadn’t contacted him. When the bondsman got to the jail, he got the crew out one at a time, Blasko first. Finally, everyone was out but Frank. The bondsman said he wasn’t getting out; the judge had revoked his earlier bond. Frank’s lawyers went into high gear and got a hearing before a different judge. He released Frank on yet another $100,000 bond. In the end, Frank put up all the bail money for the entire crew. Tony hadn’t contributed anything and things were getting lean on Frank’s end. He had to live, too, and had his own family to take care of.

Once he was out of jail, Frank discussed his ever-increasing legal problems with Tony. “Why don’t you change lawyers and hire Oscar [Goodman]?” Tony suggested. “He’s a lot sharper than Momot.”

“Why, just to prolong the inevitable?”

“Well, he can prolong things, but he can win cases, too.”

“What cases has he ever won for you?”

Tony became angry. “Look, do you want to listen to me or be a fucking know-it-all?”

Frank relented and met with Goodman; the lawyer wanted $10,000 to represent him. Frank gave him the money, but Tony continued his pattern of keeping his own cash in his pocket. Goodman delivered for Frank in the form of getting him continuances, lots of them.

The media covered the Bertha’s story aggressively for the first several days after the burglary, pressing their law-enforcement sources for additional information. They were particularly interested in the arrest of ex-cop Joe Blasko and alleged ties to Tony Spilotro.

On July 6, the
Las Vegas Review-Journal
ran a front-page story about the arrests. The headline read, “Mob-linked ex-cop held in burglary try.” The article reported that the six men arrested were believed to be members of the Hole in the Wall Gang. According to the reporter’s police sources, the gang was responsible for $1 million in local thefts since 1979. All the suspects reportedly were connected to a Chicago organized-crime family.

A story appeared the next day in which it was divulged that the burglary arrests were part of an FBI mob probe. This article stated that unnamed law-enforcement authorities firmly believed the burglars were underlings to Tony Spilotro, who was the subject of an ongoing federal racketeering investigation. It was also mentioned that federal racketeering indictments might be sought against the thieves.

While Frank was out on bail, Tony Spilotro told him that two men needed to be killed: Joe Blasko and Sal Romano.

“The big guy [Joe Blasko] is getting me nervous,” Tony said.

“Why? What’s he doing?”

“He’s sort of insinuating that I didn’t listen to you guys about Romano. Couldn’t I feel a problem coming on with the guy? And why did I let him in on the score? Stuff like that. I’m afraid the motherfucker is going to roll on me, Frankie. I want you to get rid of him.”

As far as Frank was concerned, that was a job that should have been done a long time before then. Tony subsequently backed off on the hit, saying Blasko was behaving himself and to let it go.

Tony still had killing on his mind, however. The next thing he wanted Frank to do was whack Sal Romano.

“I’d love to kill that son of a bitch, Tony. But how in the fuck are we going to get to him? He’s in Witness Protection being guarded by the U.S. Marshals.”

“I don’t know where they’ve got Sal stashed, but they’ll have to bring him into town to testify, and when they do we can get him.”

“I still don’t see how we’re going to know where he is.”

“I know the guy that caters food to the marshals when they’re protecting someone. When they bring Sal here, they’ll have to feed him. I’ll be able to find out where the food is delivered to and then we can whack him.”

“But he’ll have a lot of guys around guarding him. What about them?”

Tony said, “You gotta do what you gotta do if you want to stay free. Hit them, all of them. That’s it, an open-and-shut case.”

This plan never got past the talking stage either. Tony was making plans to have a lot of people killed, but seemed unable to issue the final orders. Frank saw this as a sign that Tony was losing it. He was under tremendous pressure from the law and Chicago wasn’t pleased about all the media attention he was getting. Frank was convinced that Tony had become paranoid to the point that he didn’t trust anybody.

As Frank pondered Tony’s behavior, he asked himself:
Does he still trust me?

All the stress Tony was under may have been slowly driving him crazy, but in spite of that he continued to play out the role in public. The women still flocked to him and when they went out to dinner, an entourage of groupies, wiseguy wannabes, and sometimes entertainment celebrities followed along. And nobody could pick up the dinner check but Tony.

The Ant also remained the guy people came to if they wanted something done. In a restaurant one night, somebody complained to Tony about a dealer at the Fremont. After dinner Frank, Neumann, and Guardino were sent to the casino to deal with the culprit. They broke his ribs and blackened an eye, then told him if there had to be a next time, it would be worse. The dealer straightened out and caused no further problems.

Still free on bond, Frank and his family moved back to Chicago to escape his troubles in Las Vegas. Before leaving, he and Guardino sold the Upper Crust. The constant presence of agents and cops had caused business to drop off dramatically and the restaurant was operating in the red every month. They had bought it for $65,000, but only got $15,000 for it when it sold.

Frank made his move during the winter and it was bone-chillingly cold in the Midwest. Things didn’t work out too well for him and he managed to make just enough to pay the heating-oil bill and his lawyer’s fees. The Outfit guys he talked with complained about what was going on in Vegas, including the unauthorized hits. It was pretty obvious to him that they weren’t happy. He now knew for certain Tony had deceived him and continued to be bothered by it.

Frank’s trial for possessing the stolen furniture was coming up in Vegas and with things in the doldrums in Chicago, he moved back to Sin City.

When he made his decision to return, he wasn’t aware of how much his relationship with Tony Spilotro had deteriorated. He’d soon find out.

Frank was scheduled to go on trial in April 1982. Not long before the court date, Eileen became suspicious of Tony Spilotro. It got her thinking that perhaps in Tony’s eyes, Frank had become expendable.

When the couple returned to Las Vegas, they moved into an apartment next door to Eileen’s father. In early April, Frank received a 1 a.m. phone call from Tony. He asked Frank to meet him in the parking lot of My Place. It wasn’t unusual for Tony to want to meet at odd hours, so Frank didn’t think much about it at the time.

During their get-together they discussed Frank’s upcoming trial and a couple of other things, none of which were urgent. Tony went inside the bar four or five times to use the pay phone. Other than that, it was a routine session.

When Frank got home, Eileen was upset. She said, “What’s the matter with that guy? Can’t he sleep? Why does he bother you all hours of the day and night? He calls and you run; this is ridiculous!”

Frank got in bed and before his head hit the pillow he heard gunshots. He pushed Eileen out of bed and onto the floor, then covered her with his own body. When the shots stopped, he went outside to look around. He saw two things: a guy lying in the doorway of the apartment next to his with blood gushing from a wound in his leg, and a van speeding away. He went back inside and told Eileen that it looked like the guy next door had been shot, probably due to a drug deal that went sour.

Eileen didn’t buy that explanation. “Your friend calls you and you go out to meet him. You get home and aren’t in bed two seconds and somebody gets shot next door. Right next door, Frank! Come on! Don’t you think maybe your friend Tony is trying to kill you?”