The Good Guys

The Good Guys

Bill Bonanno, Joe Pistone, David Fisher

Language: English

Pages: 368

ISBN: 0446529656

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

* Chain-smoking Mickey Fists isn't sure if he's an "addict" or an "attic." * The Freemont Avenue Social Club is on Elizabeth Street in Little Italy. So are the best wiretaps FBI money can buy. * Skinny Al weighed 320 pounds and lived life to the fullest...until someone burned out his eardrums and shot his body full of holes. Hundreds of writers have tried to capture life inside the mob, but no one has ever had the inside access to write a book like this one. Drawing on the firsthand experience of former undercover FBI agent Joe Pistone-aka Donnie Brasco-as well as former Mafia prince Bill Bonanno, The Good Guys straddles both sides of the law, races relentlessly through the New York City underworld, and crackles with characters and moments so vivid they will never let you go. At Columbia University, a professor of Russian literature has gone missing. A few miles and light-years away, Little Eddie LaRocca and Bobby San Filippo are on the move-dealing in everything from hot-sheet hotels to bootleg Fuji film. When the hoods are sent to find the professor, they find out that someone else is looking, too. Beautiful FBI agent Laura Russo is making her preppy partner's head spin. She knows the missing man is important-and somehow connected to a recent mob hit. While Eddie and Bobby are fighting their way through ugly deeds and pretty coeds, these feds will cook up some business of their own, turning a little disagreement among criminals into an all-out war... Capturing the organized crime world of the go-go '80s, Pistone and Bonanno's one-of-a-kind collaboration is bad to the bone-and as marvelously authentic as it gets.

















course,” Lawford said. “Who wouldn’t? Pretty young girl like that.” “Hey, Mr. San Filippo, I was just thinking,” Groucho said. “When I heard your name, I knew I knew it from somewheres. You hang with the Hammer, right? That is you? I’m right, right?” Bobby eyed him coldly. Here we go. “One and the same.” He smiled. “Say hello for us, okay? Tell him Popeye and Cloudy say hello. He’ll know.” His partner continued, “Look, Bobby, me and Jack here, you know, we understand. About all this, I mean.”

You guys understand what this means, right?” “It means we got trouble in River City,” O’Brien said. The evidence strongly indicated that Skinny Alphonse D’Angelo, a made member of organized crime, had been killed by a Russian. Not just killed. This wasn’t a mugging or a robbery, it wasn’t any accident, this was slow, torturous murder. There was obviously a reason he was killed, and that he was tortured, meaning that there had to have been some prior interaction between Skinny Al and the Russians

cases they had nothing more than a hunch. Those were obviously fishing expeditions and they didn’t catch anything. He’d been tailed many times, too many times to count up. Sometimes the tail was obvious, sometimes it was supposed to be covert, and he figured there were times when he had been followed without knowing it, but the only crimes he’d ever been charged with were a conspiracy rap that never even got to court and a wire fraud charge for working for a bookie during the ’78 World Series.

with two repair bays. The door to one of the bays was raised and two men were working underneath a car on a lift. Above the garage doors the nearly faded remnants of the name Albie’s Service Center, which had once been spelled out in blue block letters, was barely visible. O’Brien looked around for the current name but couldn’t find it. Then, in gold letters on the inside of the glass door to the office, he saw the name G&C Corp. The owners weren’t exactly hiding the name, but they certainly

must have no right side, because whichever side Ronnie got up on, it was always like it was the wrong one. But she was in a particularly surly mood the next morning, which was just about the last thing he needed. He paid the minimal attention necessary to know when to agree and nod his head, which he did convincingly. Something about visiting his parents on the holidays, problems with her car, play dates for Angela. He caught some of the familiar phrases—“the things I do for you,” “no

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