Animal (41 page)

A murder charge was filed against Barboza in mid-October 1970. After receiving the news, Barboza called the district attorney directly and
pleaded with him to leave Claire and the children alone while they negotiated his return to Sonoma County. Joe’s public defender had initially tried to block extradition, claiming that Barboza had not been in California at the time of Wilson’s murder. The request was denied, and he was escorted by armed guards onto a flight bound for the West Coast in February 1971. He was visited a month later by his friend Edward Harrington, who explained the purpose of the meeting in a memo to the Justice Department prior to the trip:

In keeping with the government’s obligation to [Barboza], I have assured [Barboza] that this office would take all proper steps to insure that he receives a fair and impartial trial on his pending murder charge. This obligation must be kept in view of the fact that many law enforcement officials in the Boston area consider that the pending murder charge has been concocted by the underworld as a means of retaliating against [Barboza].
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Harrington promised that he would not interfere with the prosecution’s case against the Animal but would alert them to the possibility that Wilson had been murdered by the Mafia in an attempt to frame Barboza. The Animal tossed cold water on Harrington’s conspiracy theory by admitting that he had killed Clay Wilson, and that it had nothing to do with a Mafia vendetta from back East. Barboza claimed that Wilson had attacked him and that he had been placed in a kill or be killed situation. The Sonoma County district attorney was outraged when he learned about the meeting. The D.A. called Harrington into his office and chastised him for visiting Barboza without first getting his approval. Harrington said that he just happened to be in California and that the visit was merely a courtesy call. The district attorney did not buy the explanation and warned Harrington that he would prevent any future clandestine meetings between Barboza and federal officials. Barboza claimed that he had acted in self-defense after Wilson attacked him. Although Harrington would later admit that he did not believe Barboza’s story, he still went above and beyond the call of duty to protect him. Harrington told Joe’s public defender, Marteen Miller, that he was prepared to testify in Barboza’s behalf and that H. Paul Rico and Dennis Condon would do the same.

At around the same time, agents Rico and Condon were scouring the
streets of Boston searching for the next Joe Barboza. They set their sights on James “Whitey” Bulger, who had been in prison during the entirety of the Boston mob war but was now trying to make a name for himself in the local underworld. Bulger had promised to furnish the feds with intelligence about his enemies and rivals and was opened as an informant by Dennis Condon on May 13, 1971. Unfortunately, Bulger at that point was willing to pay only lip service to the relationship and was closed as an informant because of unproductivity five months later.

Marteen Miller also got advice from one of Joe’s lawyers in Boston, who claimed that he had been within an eyelash of establishing that the Animal was in Massachusetts at the time of the murder and that inmates Geraway and Wood had concocted their story for the purpose of getting a free vacation to California.

Billy Geraway had not limited his testimony against Barboza solely to the Wilson murder. He also swore that Joe had confided to him that Joe “the Horse” Salvati had nothing to do with the hit on Teddy Deegan and that he had placed Salvati at the scene of the crime because of a personal feud. The media soon began to pick up on the story of a possible frameup in the Deegan case. In an article that appeared in Louis Grieco’s hometown newspaper, the
Peabody Times
, reporter Alan Jehlen suggested that there were “strong indications” in the underworld that Barboza might have lied. Joseph Wipfler, a prison guard at Walpole, later went public with his claim that he had witnessed Barboza apologize to Henry Tameleo and vow to make amends for his deceit. “I brought Tameleo to see Baron [Barboza],” Wipfler told a reporter for the
Boston Globe
. “Baron told him that he was sorry he had lied about Tameleo after Tameleo had been like a father to him. He said it grieved him, that he couldn’t sleep at night.”

Billy Geraway continued his pressure on Joe Barboza and the feds from his prison cell. In a letter to Suffolk County district attorney Garrett Byrne, he wrote:

If you had submitted Baron to a polygraph, a number of men would not be on death row and/or in prison today, but of course you couldn’t do that because your subordinates, with your knowledge, were rehearsing with him his perjured testimony. The cases smell so badly that their odor is beginning to reach even the most secluded public nostrils.
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Geraway wanted to put Barboza in the gas chamber for the Clay Wilson murder, so he tried to poke and prod the Animal any way he could. Later he would wear all black at the Wilson murder trial, as if he were attending Barboza’s funeral. In the weeks leading up to the court date, Geraway scribbled notes to the prosecution accusing Barboza of being a prison homosexual who had never been a good husband or father to his children. The information had no bearing on the trial, but Geraway knew the notes would get back to the Animal because of the California legal system’s liberal discovery rules. Opening statements in the Ricky Clay Wilson murder trial were heard in mid-October 1971. Public Defender Marteen Miller told the jury that he would be calling Harrington, the attorney in charge of the U.S. Justice Department’s crime task force, and two
FBI
agents to testify in support of Barboza’s claim that he had acted in self-defense. The jury panel, as well as reporters covering the case, were shocked to learn that the federal government was attempting to protect a self-confessed killer.

Sonoma County district attorney Keirnan Hyland also smoldered at the news. In a letter to
FBI
director J. Edgar Hoover, Hyland wrote:

This is disconcerting for the prosecution because it presents a picture of a house divided against itself. The murder for which we are prosecuting the Baron has nothing to do with his Mafia connections. When and if
FBI
agents testify as defense witnesses, it would be appreciated that they do me the courtesy of contacting me first and allowing me to interview them concerning their possible testimony.
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Hyland did have a few cards of his own to play. A New Bedford gangster named Lawrence Hughes (aka Lawrence Brown) came forward and testified that he had received some of the stolen bonds from Barboza. Hughes also presented the bonds to the jury, which helped strengthen the prosecution’s argument that Barboza had killed Wilson not in self-defense but in a calculated move to steal the bonds. Hughes also claimed that Barboza had told him he had sex with Wilson’s widow an hour after burying him.

Harrington, Condon, and Rico testified for the defense as to the seriousness of previous threats against Barboza resulting from his cooperation with their war on organized crime. They did not offer any information
about the murder of Clay Wilson. Instead, they told the jury how important a role Barboza had played in dismantling the New England mob. Edward Harrington explained that Barboza had been the chief witness for the successful prosecution of six notorious Mafia members in the Deegan trial and had helped take down the boss of bosses—Raymond Patriarca.

Marteen Miller was less concerned with their testimony than he was with the symbol that Harrington, Condon, and Rico represented to the jury. “The
FBI
was held in such esteem,” Miller explained later, “that if I could call them as a witness and have them say substantially anything, relevant or not, that would be a point in my favor.”
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Prosecutors could see that the testimony from three federal authority figures was having an impact on the jury. “We had a pretty good capital murder case,” Assistant District Attorney Ed Cameron later told the Congressional Committee on Government Reform. “And we got to the end and we’re having
FBI
agents suddenly appear as almost character witnesses… . [T]hey had damaged our case to the point we didn’t think the jury was going to convict on a first-degree murder case.”
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Cameron and Hyland quickly began working on a plan-B, and just two days after the testimony of Condon, Harrington, and Rico had concluded, they approached Barboza’s lawyer about a compromise. On December 13, 1971, the Animal entered a guilty plea to a charge of second-degree murder. The plea would mean that Barboza would have to serve five years in prison, but thanks to help from the
FBI
he was spared a first-degree murder conviction and the death penalty.

The government’s assistance did not end there. Following Barboza’s sentencing, Edward Harrington sent a letter to one of California’s top correctional counselors urging her to place the Animal in a “constructive correctional program designed for his ultimate release as a constructive member of society.”
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22

California Dreaming

In me you see a man alone,
held by the habit of being on his own

FRANK SINATRA

Joe Barboza’s return to prison was the final straw for his wife, Claire, who packed up the couple’s two young children and their belongings and quietly returned to Massachusetts. The Animal was truly on his own now. Fortunately for him, his friendship with Edward Harrington continued to grow, and the government lawyer pressed the Justice Department to help Barboza find a job once he was paroled. “It would be in the best interest of the United States to maintain a continued concern for the personal problems of an individual who has contributed greatly to the government’s campaign against organized crime,” Harrington wrote to his superiors.
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He had even promised Joe that he would cooperate with a book project about Barboza’s life and assist the author by identifying “other individuals who would have background information relating to your career.” Barboza had signed a deal with author Bob Patterson to collaborate on a book they would title
In and Outside the Family
. Joe was to be assisted on the project by James Chalmas, an ex-con who moved to California in 1962 after he was charged with hijacking a truckload of shoes in Manchester, New Hampshire. He had also served a sentence for armed robbery that was lengthened by the fact that he had broken out of prison and had held two guards hostage.

Chalmas did not want to go back to Massachusetts because he was fearful of going back to jail, and also fearful of facing any remnants of the once powerful McLaughlin Brothers Gang. Chalmas had taken up with the former girlfriend of Georgie McLaughlin, and there was now bad blood between the two men. Chalmas would serve as Barboza’s gofer on the project: gathering photographs, memos, and other documents for the author. Joe understood that he had to remain in the public eye if he was to broker a lucrative book contract with a major publisher. Shortly after beginning his sentence for the murder of Ricky Clay Wilson, the
Animal offered to testify for the government once again, this time for Congressman Claude Pepper’s Select Committee on Crime. The Florida Democrat led an eleven-member panel looking to explore and expose the mob’s involvement in sports. Dressed in a track suit, his signature wraparound sunglasses, and with a cigarette dangling from his lips, Barboza told the committee that his former boss, Raymond Patriarca, had invested $215,000 as a silent partner in Berkshire Downs, a bankrupt racetrack in Hancock, Massachusetts, in the 1960s. Patriarca’s alleged partner was iconic crooner Frank Sinatra, who had sunk $55,000 into the project for 5 percent of the voting stock. Sinatra and fellow Rat Packer Dean Martin were named officers of the Hancock Raceway Association, with Sinatra listed as vice president. Sinatra later resigned from the track and demanded that his investment be returned.

Joe Barboza told the committee that the so-called Chairman of the Board had routinely done business with several Mafia chieftains. The Animal was relying solely on stories he had heard over the years, as he had never met Sinatra and knew nothing of the entertainer’s business dealings. Frank Sinatra did not take the accusations lightly and was willing to testify himself, in hopes of clearing his name. Wearing a light brown sport coat, checkered tie, and shiny patent leather boots with elevated lifts, the fifty-four-year-old entertainer strode confidently past the glittering flashbulbs of twenty-five cameramen and a gathering of fans screaming his name into the Cannon House Office Building’s caucus room. Sinatra took control of the hearing immediately as he waved a newspaper over his head with the blazing headline: “Witness Links Sinatra to Mafia Figure.”