All the officials who worked the Pitera case, were involved in the task force, were involved in Pitera’s prosecution, wanted him to die.
“If ever,” federal prosecutor Elisa Liang said, “someone deserved the death penalty, it’s Tommy Pitera.”
Elisa Liang was a small, soft-spoken, attractive Asian woman who was an excellent prosecutor…very good at her job. She, like everyone else involved in the case, was appalled not only by what Pitera had done, the ABCs of what he’d done, but by the fact that he’d done it with such aplomb; the fact that he could be so blatant about it outraged everybody. Here was a criminal who acted like he had a God-given right to kill. Regardless of what anyone’s feelings were, more importantly, there was a federal statute known as the Drug Kingpin Law that would clearly make Tommy Pitera eligible for the death penalty. As lawyers in the Justice Department put together a case against Pitera, they scrutinized the viability, mulled over the realities of a death sentence case. They came to the conclusion that Pitera’s crimes warranted the death penalty and legally he could be given a death sentence based upon the nature of the crimes. Due to date conflicts, however, the only charges that carried a death sentence were the murders of Richard Leone and Sol Stern, which had taken place in Pitera’s club.
It was announced by U.S. attorney Andrew Maloney that the United States Justice Department would officially be seeking the death penalty for Tommy Pitera. When Pitera heard the news, told to him by his lawyer, he said, with a smirk on his face, “Bring on the firing squad.”
At the Justice Department, Pitera had become the focal point of everyone’s energies. They felt he was one of the most heinous criminals they’d had to prosecute in modern times. No resources were spared, any overtime necessary was quickly allocated. All the manpower needed to build the prosecution case properly was provided with alacrity. To further the government’s quest to execute Pitera, DEA and FBI agents again began, in earnest, talking to codefendants in the case—looking for people willing to turn, looking for people to become informers. They already had Frank Gangi and Joe Dish aboard. Judy Haimowitz also readily agreed to cooperate. As it happened, very little loyalty was shown to Pitera. Just about everyone arrested agreed to cooperate. The ones who didn’t were Vincent Kojak Giattino, Billy Bright (Billy Bright’s case had not been adjudicated yet; he had not yet been placed in a federal prison), and Richie David. When Jim Hunt spoke to Richie, Jim said, “Look, Richie. This guy is a first-rate scumbag. You don’t owe him anything. There’s no doubt about that. Why in God’s name do you want to go down with him?”
Richie responded, “Look…I understand that, but you don’t understand. This guy is insane. Sooner or later, he will get me. Sooner or later, I know he will.”
And with that, Richie David decided to plead guilty to a laundry list of charges and take the heavy sentence recommended by the government. Kojak decided he would take his chances at trial…he would not testify against Pitera.
A shroud descended over Gravesend, Brooklyn. Any innocence the neighborhood had once possessed was now lost with the revelations of what Tommy Pitera had done, how brazenly he had done it, what he had done to Phyllis Burdi, that he had cut her up in six pieces, that her head was never found.
Gravesend would never be the same thanks to Pitera.
In the Mafia hangouts throughout Gravesend, Bensonhurst, Coney Island, and Dyker Heights, mob guys discussed Tommy Pitera. For them, what Pitera had done was all about business. What he had done to Phyllis Burdi, though, was something else. The killing of a woman, the killing of a woman that way—all cut up like that—was something out of the ordinary even for them; beyond the pale, even for them. However, they discussed in detail how Pitera had warned Phyllis to stay away from Celeste over and over again, how Phyllis wouldn’t listen to reason. In the end, they decided Phyllis had gotten what she deserved. The next big question they discussed among themselves, as though they were an assembly at the UN debating important world issues, was whether or not Pitera had turned. They knew that most of the people he had working for him became rats. This did not bode well for Pitera. It was a given that he, Pitera, would be able to offer up his boss and even the head of the Bonanno family.
Would Tommy Pitera talk?
Would Tommy Pitera divulge the secrets he knew about the inner workings of La Cosa Nostra—details, names, and places? Who killed whom, when, where, and why—and the Bonanno family’s extensive dealing in narcotics? Those were the questions they asked themselves in organized crime clubs throughout Mafiadom as they sipped strong espresso laced with homemade anisette, smoked cigars, discussed all the different aspects of all the different businesses they had their well-manicured fingers in.