There is some question about how longtime Bonanno wiseguy Louis Attanasio got his nickname, but whatever the etymology, the “Louie Ha Ha” handle certainly fits him now. 

Two weeks ago, the feds rounded up his brother and 25 other mob cohorts from Montreal to Corpus Christi in a massive racketeering indictment. But Louie Ha Ha has remained beyond the grasp of the Law, and today, is sunning himself in St. Maarten in the Dutch West Indies. 

It’s a cruel joke for federal prosecutors who knew Attanasio – charged with murder and loansharking – was a threat to flee to his resort home in the Caribbean. But before they were able to scoop him up he was already on his annual jaunt to the sun-drenched isle.

After his release from federal prison in August 2000, following a four year stint for loansharking, Attanasio was on court-supervised release for three years. But for the past two winters he has successfully sought the court’s permission to vacation at his St. Maarten condo. 

There are also signs he would like to make the island his permanent abode. In court papers, federal prosecutors noted that his Toms River, New Jersey home is up for sale and not unreasonably concluded that he is a flight risk. They also make a good case that he is a danger to the community and should be

detained. First, however, they have to get him before a judge in Brooklyn Federal Court. This winter Louie Ha Ha didn’t need court approval to leave town, so the feds are researching U.S. extradition provisions with the Dutch colony.

Among other things, Louie Ha Ha is charged with the April 1984 execution slaying of Cesare Bonventre, a capo who fell out favor with the family’s hierarchy 20 years ago. In a separate case, Joseph Massino, (right) the family’s current boss, goes to trial in two months for allegedly ordering the murder, and six others, from 1981 to 1987.

According to court papers, Attanasio, who celebrates his 60^th birthday Sunday, was the triggerman in the slaying. His brother Robert (Big Bobby) Attanasio, 57, and Peter (Peter Rabbit) Calabrese, 55, helped dispose of the body, which was found in two steel drums in a warehouse in Garfield, New Jersey.

Like many Bonanno/Massino mobsters, Louie Ha Ha has been fretting about the prospects of being hit with a murder rap ever since Massino’s brother-in-law, longtime family underboss Salvatore Vitale, (left) began cooperating with the feds nearly a year ago. Vitale has been involved in more than a dozen mob hits, including the grisly slayings of three capos in May 1981.

In a tape recorded conversation Last May, Attanasio expressed concern to capo James (Big Lou) Tartaglione that his brother Robert or Calabrese would “go bad” and team up with Vitale as a witness against him

in the Bonventre slaying. During the talk, Louie Ha Ha asked Tartaglione, who was also involved in the Bonventre rubout, “to go on the lam” with him, according to court papers.

But Big Lou had already made other arrangements. He had joined Vitale on the FBI team and was tape recording their conversation for the feds.

According to court papers, in April 1984, shortly after Bonventre got into a car with Tartaglione and Attanasio in Queens, Louie Ha Ha shot their target. Tartaglione then drove the mortally wounded gangster to a nearby garage where Robert Attanasio, Calabrese and Vitale were waiting, according to court papers. 

When they arrived, Bonventre was still alive, so Louie Ha Ha finished him off, according to accounts by Tartaglione and Vitale. Robert Attanasio (right) and Calabrese took Bonventre’s body to a drop off spot where another Bonanno wiseguy retrieved it and disposed of it.

Basking in the sun while the feds sweat to get him back to the states is not the first "ha ha" that Attanasio has had at the government’s expense. Back in 2000 when he got out of prison and was looking to the future – and winters at his St. Maarten retreat – Louie Ha Ha dutifully paid all his court costs, including $60,000 in fines and $6500 in interest, that stemmed from his 1996 loansharking conviction.

But that doesn’t mean he was giving up what was rightfully his.

Following his guilty plea, he filed a civil suit seeking the return of $1700 in cash FBI agents seized from him when they arrested him – and he got it back.

“They had no right to the money,” recalled Nicholas Kaizer, his lawyer at the time. “We sued, and Mr. Attanasio got his money back."

Lawyer Larry Bronson, who currently represents Louie Ha Ha and formerly represented Tartaglione, is in a sticky situation. His office was the site of the tape recorded discussion between the two men, who were both under supervised release restrictions at the time. 

At a detention hearing for Robert Attanasio, assistant U.S. Attorney Mitra Hormozi charged that Bronson, knowing full well that both men were prohibited from seeing each other, facilitated the meeting between them and was tape recorded along with them.

Citing those facts, Hormozi sought to disqualify Bronson’s associate, Robert Koppelman, from representing Robert Attanasio. Magistrate Judge Joan Azrack rejected the motion, as well as the prosecutor’s efforts to detain Big Bobby without bail. She ordered him released under strict house arrest provisions after friends agreed to post $2 million surety.

Bronson told Gang Land that it was all just a coincidence. He said that at the time of the gangsters’ taped talk, he represented both Big Lou and Louie Ha Ha and they met by chance at his office, adding that he was not privy to their discussion.

At a separate hearing, Azrack ordered similar bail conditions for Calabrese, (right) but Judge Nicholas Garaufis overruled her, agreeing with assistant U.S. attorney Robert Henoch that the capo, a former member of the family’s “ruling panel” was a danger to the community.

Calabrese had been tape recorded at an Oct. 6 “sitdown” forcefully backing up the position of a crew member who said that he would have personally responded to an insult “the next day” if he hadn’t been out on bail at the time.

“The next day,” echoed Calabrese. When another “sitdown” participant noted that the life of a mobster is a “serious life,” Calabrese responded: “You have no idea how serious.” 

Two months later, Calabese learned just how serious Massino feels about his men kicking in $100 a month to his defense fund when the capo was bumped from the family’s ruling panel for falling behind in his monthly tributes, according to court records.