A brawny Gambino soldier convicted of waterfront racketeering with family boss Peter Gotti has begun cooperating with a federal probe of alleged racketeering on the Staten Island docks by two politically connected island businessmen, Gang Land has learned. 

The turncoat gangster, Primo Cassarino, (right) a tough, foul-mouthed enforcer for longtime Gambino docks boss Anthony (Sonny) Ciccone, put new life into the investigation that nailed the three mobsters and 14 others on racketeering charges two years ago. 

Cassarino, who was also found guilty of shaking down action movie star Steven Seagal, has been talking to a task force of federal and state agencies about a variety of Gambino rackets for several months, sources have told Gang Land. 

Law enforcement sources identified the targeted businessmen as Salvatore Calcagno, a developer and construction company magnate, and Carmine Ragucci, the former head of Howland Hook Marine Terminal, situated on the northern shore of the island near the Goethals Bridge. 

The men are longtime friends, political allies and financial supporters of Borough President James Molinaro. 

Ragucci, with strong support from Molinaro, took over Molinaro’s old post as Chairman of the Richmond County Conservative Party in 2000. The following

year, Ragucci and family members contributed $10,000 to Molinaro’s successful run for Borough President, helping to make him the Conservative Party’s highest elected official in the state.

Calcagno, a business partner of Molinaro’s son Steven, contributed $7500, and was the finance chairman of Molinaro’s primary and election campaigns.

As Gang Land reported in 2003, the businessmen were observed in meetings with Cassarino, Ciccone (left) and a corrupt longshoremen’s union official during a two-year probe by the Waterfront Commission into the Gambinos’ 50-year-long stranglehold over the Staten Island and Brooklyn docks. 

Last month, just before the statute of limitations was about to expire, the feds indicted Calcagno, 51, on tax evasion charges stemming from his 1998 filings.

The builder was charged with underreporting gross sales of his company, Salvatore Calcagno Construction Inc., by $261,000 and overstating the firm’s

expenses by $16,900, according to a two-count indictment. At his arraignment, assistant U.S. attorney Deborah Sue Mayer said the investigation was continuing and additional charges were expected. 

“Sal is a fine person and extraordinary businessman who is in no way part of any nefarious group,” said lawyer Michael Rosen. “He may have had lunch with someone who is, but that does not make him an evil person… or part of something sinister.”

Calcagno Construction helped build a refrigeration warehouse known as the “banana house” at Howland Hook, a sprawling 200-acre freight loading complex that Ragucci ran until June 2001, when he was fired by its parent company.

Ragucci has not been charged with any wrongdoing, but he was implicated in criminal activity in testimony at the Gotti trial, as well as by prosecutors in the case.

Frank (Red) Scollo, (right) president of Local 1814 of the International Longshoremen’s Association, testified that Ragucci made regular $9200 payments to Ciccone from 1997 to 2001.

In court papers, assistant U.S. attorney Katya Jestin wrote that Ragucci was not a victim of the mob, but had violated labor laws that prohibit company officials from

making payments to union officials and was a “co-conspirator” of the Gambino family.

Reached at home by Gang Land, Ragucci declined to comment.

Through wiretaps and bugs that investigators planted during the lengthy investigation, the Gambinos and Scollo were frequently heard speaking about Ragucci and Calcagno – they used “Chubby” to refer to Calcagno and “R” for Ragucci. But neither businessman was overheard on any of the 14 listening devices that were placed in restaurants, social clubs, cars and other meeting places.

Investigators came close, however, on Aug. 23, 2001, when Calcagno met Ciccone to discuss an undisclosed business problem at a bugged table at a New Dorp restaurant, according to an affidavit by Organized Crime Task Force investigator Joseph Rauchet.

But when the developer arrived, Ciccone shuttled him away for a private

During the sessions, two veteran Bonanno mobsters exhibited distinctly different

The diminutive Cammarano, wearing prison fatigues that looked starched, stood tall and erect. After sentence was imposed, he blew a kiss to his wife of 50 years and dozens of family members, friends and a priest, smiled and left to pay the price for a life of crime.