Superstar turncoat Alphonse (Little Al) D’Arco, a prosecution witness at a dozen mob trials, got a celebrity treatment of sorts for his long awaited sentencing last month. 

In deference to his age, 70, various ailments and security requirements, the former Luchese family acting boss was sentenced in his new home town via a remote television hookup much like those used by Larry King or Barbara Walters to interview a pop idol or icon.

Federal Judge Charles Brieant was able to hear and see D’Arco on a television monitor that was placed in the well of Brieant’s White Plains courtroom for an unannounced, 8:30 a.m. session on October 10.

Brieant told Gang Land he approved the unusual setup because D’Arco (left) “has serious medical problems, his life is at risk when he travels, and there was no reason for him to have to come to White Plains.” 

A similar arrangement was made in July 1997 when the closed-circuit testimony of mob associate Peter Savino, who was dying of cancer, was

beamed into the Brooklyn racketeering trial of Genovese boss Vincent (Chin) Gigante (left). Savino died three months later.

D’Arco, who made a brief statement, could see and hear the judge, his lawyer, prosecutors David Kelley and Andrew McCarthy, and the chief criminal investigator for the Manhattan U.S. Attorney’s office, Kenneth McCabe, on a monitor set up at an undisclosed location near his undisclosed permanent home, sources said.

D’Arco thanked his lawyer, his family and the many law enforcement officials who kept him “on the straight and narrow” after he walked into FBI offices and began cooperating against the mob in September 1991 when he became convinced the Luchese family was set to kill him.

“They helped me tremendously to achieve this and to turn my life around. I’ll never let their confidence down at any time,” said D’Arco, according to a transcript obtained by Gang Land.

Brieant, who presided over a 1995 racketeering trial at which D’Arco testified, gave the Luchese defector “time served” – which essentially was no time at all because he has been free on bail since pleading guilty to racketeering a decade ago – and assessed him a $50 filing fee. The entire proceeding, whose outcome was more than a foregone conclusion, took less than 10 minutes.

“I think it was a fair sentence,” said D'Arco's lawyer James DeVita. “He has been an extraordinarily productive witness for the government. He has helped it make tremendous inroads in the war against organized crime in this country.

And he has also made a complete turnabout in his life in the last 10 years.”

A high school dropout – the Brooklyn born D’Arco quit school at age 15 and began running with older relatives and friends who were mob connected – D’Arco possessed an uncanny ability to recall dates, incidents and anecdotes going back decades.

He met Luchese boss Vittorio Amuso (right) in 1959 at a “bust out operation” at Washington and Flushing Avenues in Brooklyn, went “on record” with the Lucheses in March 1966, was first proposed for membership in 1974, and finally became a “made man” on Aug. 23, 1982.

A drug dealer and loyal soldier who took part in at least 10 murders, D’Arco moved up to capo in 1988 and became acting boss on Jan. 9, 1991, the day he began to suspect he was marked for death.

During his decade working for the government, he was a key witness against Amuso, Gigante, acting Colombo boss Victor (Little Vic) Orena (left) and other top gangsters who were convicted of racketeering, including Bonanno consigliere Anthony Spero and Genovese consigliere James Ida.

He testified in Brooklyn, Manhattan, White Plains, Camden N.J. and four years ago was set to testify in Detroit at the racketeering trial of Motor City wiseguys about, among other things, Henry Ford’s mob connections during the 1930’s, until a federal judge canned that idea.

“If Al said it happened, it happened,” said one former federal prosecutor. “And he never stretched the truth,” he said, recalling that during preparation for one trial, D’Arco corrected him about an important fact. “I’m sure he done it,” said Little Al, “but I never seen him do it, so I ain’t gonna say I did.”

A few days after Little Al faded from the silver screen, the feds trotted out former Luchese acting boss Joseph (Little Joe) Defede as a prosecution witness against soldier John Petrucelli. (right)

Defede, 68, pulled in a nice crowd of the usual suspects for his debut – law enforcers, defense lawyers, as well as old friends and family members who gave him the evil eye – but the only similarities between him and D’Arco that Gang Land noticed were their stature and their nicknames.

And while Petrucelli was found guilty of the 1995 revenge stabbing death of a 17-year-old Bronx youth after less than four hours of deliberations, Little Joe didn’t quite measure up to Little Al – as a gangster or a prosecution witness. From where Gang Land was sitting, the conviction was more of a coup for assistant U.S. attorneys Kelley and David Raskin than a notch on Defede’s belt.

For one thing, D’Arco admitted taking part in 10 successful slayings and many others that failed while Defede said he had no bodies on his resume, although he came close on occasion. And while D’Arco admits cooperating to save his own life, Defede (left) maintains he wasn’t afraid of getting whacked for suspicion of stealing Luchese family money. He rolled over to spare his family members, not himself. Right Joe!

Amuso tabbed D’Arco as acting boss while he was on the lam and hopeful of beating the feds when he surfaced later on; he selected DeFede when he had lost that gambit and was a jailed-for-life boss looking for the gangster least likely to threaten his regime. Amuso was wrong on both counts.

In the long run, Defede won’t be nearly as effective as D’Arco was in bringing down the Lucheses. Then again, he doesn’t have to be.

Mob Star: The Story of John Gotti

Hot off the presses! It's here, the book it took yours truly and Gene Mustain 17 years to do! Although we didn't know it at the time, we began working on Mob Star: The Story of John Gotti in 1985, when we began covering the Gotti story as news reporters.

The first edition came out in 1988, and we finished this new edition three days before Gotti died in June. Alpha Books has distributed it to the nation's bookstores.

With a 40,000-word update, the new edition contains the entire Gotti saga – from his treacherous rise to his defiant downfall and right on up to his time in prison and his death from throat cancer.

The 378 page, full-size book uses eight additional chapters, a prologue and an epilogue to complete the story we began telling (better than any other reporters, we might add!) when we covered the Gotti-orchestrated, midtown Manhattan assassination of former Gambino boss Paul Castellano.

For the last and best words on Gotti, this is the book to have. It is specially priced at Amazon.com at $11.87, more than five bucks off the suggested retail price.

    Not Really For Idiots

Whether you're a Gang Land regular or an occasional visitor, you'll enjoy  "The Complete Idiot's Guide to The Mafia," a book I wrote for Alpha Books that was published in December. It's filled with real stuff about real wiseguys and insight about the ways that mobsters make their money. It's 343 pages of true stories of life and death, honor and betrayal. Get it at your local book store, or at Gang Land's favorite, Amazon.com, where the powers that be have knocked the price down to $13.27, so low I am concerned that the Godfather of online booksellers has forgotten about my end.