Mar. 10, 1997

COUNTERFEIT JUSTICE

 By Jerry Capeci

IT was bright and sunny in Ft. Lauderdale last Tuesday but Gambino capo Lenny DiMaria would much rather have been back home in cold, gray and snowy New York.

With lawyer Susan Kellman at his side, DiMaria strode into the federal courthouse on East Broward Boulevard with a shopping bag full of licensed sportwear and a smile on his face for what he knew would most likely be a losing fight.

"I think we got them on the law, but they," DiMaria told Gang Land, pointing toward the federal prosecutor and three FBI agents gunning for him, "got me listed as a bigtime gangster from New York, so I don't know if the law will prevail."

DiMaria, who is awaiting federal racketeering trials in New York and in Florida, was there for a bail revocation hearing.

Since late January, when the feds in New York tacked on racketeering charges to those already filed in the Sunshine State, DiMaria has been confined to his Brooklyn home, with an ankle bracelet monitoring his movement and a wiretap monitoring his telephone calls.

DiMaria had been free on bail on the Florida charges when the New York charges were lodged. Citing the new charges, New York prosecutors tried to revoke his bail and send him to jail, but a New York judge ruled that
 

house arrest would suffice. But Florida prosecutors took another shot at him and claimed he violated his bail terms by commiting crimes in New York, specifically, conspiring to traffic in $600 in counterfeit Super Bowl sweatshirts.

He contends the sweatshirts were not counterfeit, but poor imitations, with no official licensing markings or tags that are normally affixed to sportwear licensed by the National Football League, the National Basketball Association or Major League Baseball.

Kellman introduced into evidence a New York Knicks warmup jacket, a Green Bay Packers jersey and a New York Yankees T-shirt which, unlike the sweatshirt the feds produced, all had official tags and markings.

Kellman had more goodies in her bag, but Judge Barry Seltzer indicated he had seen enough.

Kellman said DiMaria might have some civil liability, but that was doubtful, because an NFL official had said in a letter that DiMaria's sweatshirt had no tags, was a poor imitation and that the colors of the Green Bay Packers and the New England Patriots' helmets on the shirt were incorrect. Besides, she said, bail had never been revoked in a federal case for allegations not involving drugs or violence, and DiMaria was not a threat to flee.

There's always a first time, as DiMaria feared. Seltzer ruled that the white Super Bowl sweatshirt - with no licensing tags and the manufacturer's label missing - constituted "probable cause" of a crime and revoked DiMaria's bail.

As the deputy U.S. Marshals in the courtroom stood to take him away, Seltzer gave DiMaria a 24-hour reprieve and allowed to fly back to New York and surrender to prison authorities there.

"At least the airline ticket won't go to waste," said DiMaria, who carefully gathered up his official sportswear while deciding whether to appeal Seltzer's sour ruling.

AFTER a slew of performances in Brooklyn and one in Florida, former Colombo family consigliere Carmine Sessa made his Manhattan Federal Court debut last week at the racketeering and murder trial of James Ida, his Genovese family counterpart.

Sessa, who testified that he had met Ida a handful of times - mostly when Ida was trying to negotiate a truce during the bloody Colombo family war in 1991 and 1992 - was the first of three former top gangsters who will take the stand against Ida.

Former Luchese capo Peter (Fat Pete) Chiodo is likely next, but the key witness against Ida will be former Luchese acting boss, Alfonso (Little Al) D'Arco. Ida may have been a peacemaker in the mob war, but D'Arco, who has known him for decades, will implicate him in at least two murders. This should come as no surprise to Ida. Shortly after D'Arco began cooperating with the feds in 1991, Ida told Sessa he was "nervous about problems this would bring" for him in particular and for the Genovese family in general.
 

GANG Land hates to nitpick, but often wonders why former FBI agent Joe Pistone cheapens his truly heroic undercover work against the Bonanno family by wearing a silly disguise and insisting that there's a $500,000 price tag on his head. (That's the genuine article on the right; Johnny Depp as Brasco on the left.)

Almost no one in law enforcement believes there ever was a mob contract on his life for the work he did as wannabe mobster Donnie Brasco.

While mobsters often target informers for death, they don't put out contracts on law enforcement agents for doing their jobs. In fact, if a law enforcement official is killed by a wannabe mobster, the mob will take matters in its own hands. Look what happened in 1989. Gus Farace was blown away nine months after he killed DEA agent Everett Hatcher.

And when the mob does put out a contract, there is never a price for the job. It's viewed as an honor.

By the way, Bonanno mobster Benjamin (Lefty Guns) Ruggiero, whom we're left to assume was "sent for" and killed in the movie, (Played by Al Pacino) was convicted of racketeering and served 13 years in prison. He died of natural causes in his bed on Thanksgiving Day, 1995. On his deathbed, according to one old friend, Lefty Guns threatened to spit in the faces of movie people who offered him $1 million to interview him for the Donnie Brasco promos.