Tragic (37 page)

“Yes, all of those things.”

“Partying?”

“Yes.”

“Illegal drugs?”

Corcione took a deep breath before letting it out and answering. “In the past, I’ve used cocaine and smoked pot,” he said. “But it’s been a long time.”

“A long time as in?”

“More than a year.”

“A whole year?”

“Ever since I met Greg.”

“Greg, your lover.”

“Yes.”

Kowalski glanced over at the jury to see how his opening gambit was going. “So you started stealing—what was it you testified, thousands a month?—to support your extravagant lifestyle?”

“Yes.”

“Then, out of the blue, Charlie Vitteli and Joey Barros showed up at your office and said they knew what you’d been up to and now they wanted a piece of the pie . . . only they wanted a much bigger pie?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“And you decided to go along because you were afraid they’d turn you in and tell your father that you were queer, right?”

“Yes.”

“So you set up this complicated scheme to steal millions of dollars?”

“Yes.”

“Did Charlie Vitteli help you set it up?”

“No,” Corcione answered. “He wouldn’t have known how.”

“Right, he’s no financial mastermind, is he?”

“He’s smart, but no, he didn’t know how offshore banking, dummy corporations, and pass-through accounts worked.”

“That’s right; according to you he ‘called the shots,’ but only you knew how to actually steal the money and get away with it, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And I believe that your testimony is that two board members of this dummy corporation management—supposedly comprised of you, Joey Barros, and the defendant—had to sign in order for this money to be transferred?”

“That’s correct.”

“But only you and Joey Barros ever signed.”

“Yes, because—”

“We’ve heard your explanation—my client was trying to insulate himself—but if he’s being so careful, why have his name on it at all?”

Corcione shook his head and half smiled as if trying to explain something fairly simple to the village idiot. “If something happened to me or Barros, he’d want to be able to access the accounts.”

“Or, Mr. Corcione, is it possible that you and Jackie Barros set up these accounts and told my client, Charlie Vitteli, that they were simply union accounts set up for the legitimate investment of union pension funds?”

Karp’s eyes narrowed. He’d expected the defense to make an
attempt to distract the jurors from the facts of the case. So trying to suggest that Vitteli wasn’t involved in the theft of union funds by Corcione and Barros—and therefore had no motive to murder Carlotta—was par for the course.

Following Corcione’s testimony for the People, Karp had submitted into evidence the paper trail uncovered by ADA V. T. Newbury, the Frauds Bureau chief, under Corcione’s guidance from the Cayman Island banks, to the multiple layers of dummy corporations and investments, right down to the three personal accounts. However, the one missing piece in the trail was that there was no record of Vitteli making any withdrawals on his account; apparently it really was his “retirement account,” waiting for the day he decided he had enough.

The smoke-and-mirrors ploy was a desperate gamble on the part of the defense. As with the gay-baiting, it was intended to find that one juror more inclined to believe conspiracy theories than facts. But Karp was fine with it; he would expose the ploy for what it was in summations. But for now it played into his goal of backing Vitteli into a corner so that he had no choice but to testify on his own behalf.

“What? No!” Corcione replied, scowling at the defense attorney’s accusations. “Like I said, Mr. Kowalski, Charlie Vitteli called the shots.”

“Did Charlie Vitteli make any withdrawals from this supposedly ‘personal’ account?”

“You know he didn’t,” Corcione countered. “Mr. Karp went over that when he submitted the statements into evidence.”

Kowalski walked back over to the defense table, where he placed a hand on Vitteli’s shoulder. “Mr. Corcione, you testified that you were VERY afraid of Joey Barros, a man you claim was capable of murder. Were you also VERY afraid of Charlie Vitteli?”

“I was afraid he might turn me in, or tell my dad I was gay.”

“I’m not talking about him exposing you as a thief or your homosexuality,” Kowalski sneered. “I mean, were you VERY afraid
of Charlie Vitteli in the same way you were VERY afraid of Joey Barros?”

Corcione looked at Vitteli and shook his head. “No. I thought he probably had enough loyalty to my father that he wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me.”

Kowalski smiled as if he’d made an important point. “Mr. Corcione, wouldn’t you agree that it makes more sense that the only man you feared in all of this was Joey Barros?”

“In a physical sense,” Corcione answered. “But Barros only did what Charlie told him to do.”

“Just a vicious dog doing his master’s bidding, right?”

“That’s an accurate description, yes.”

Kowalski patted Vitteli on the shoulder and moved toward the jury with his eyes on their faces. “Mr. Corcione, who met with the triggerman Alexei Bebnev and this alleged Russian gangster, Marat Lvov?”

“Joey Barros and me.”

“But not Charlie Vitteli?”

“No.”

“Who gave the money to Lvov to pay Bebnev and his cronies?”

“Barros.”

“But not Charlie Vitteli.”

“Charlie told me to give Barros the money.”

“That’s your story, but there’s no proof of that, is there, Mr. Corcione?”

“Mr. Kowalski, the proof is what I’ve already told the jurors,” Corcione retorted. “This was no robbery; it was a setup orchestrated by Vitteli. Barros and I worked for him. Why would I have turned myself in and pleaded guilty to manslaughter if this was just a robbery?”

Kowalski smiled. “Oh, I don’t know, Mr. Corcione, maybe because you heard that Frank DiMarzo was talking and you wanted to get a deal by giving the DA a bigger fish to fry than little ol’ Jackie Corcione.”

“I didn’t know anything about what Mr. DiMarzo was saying.”

“No? So it’s just a coincidence that on the same afternoon the district attorney was at Sing Sing penitentiary taking a statement from Frank DiMarzo, you decided to confess as well?”

“I don’t know if it’s a coincidence,” Corcione said. “I was having trouble dealing with the guilt, and told my boyfriend what I’d done.”

“Would it surprise you if later, when the defense puts on its case, it’s revealed that a call was placed from Sing Sing to a cell phone registered to Joey Barros while Mr. Karp was at the penitentiary?”

“No. That makes sense if Charlie had a spy at the penitentiary.”

Kowalski scoffed. “Wow, Vitteli had more spies than the CIA according to your testimony. The Department of Labor. Sing Sing penitentiary. Is there anywhere the long arm of spymaster Charlie Vitteli didn’t reach?”

“Apparently not,” Corcione agreed.

“Then why wouldn’t this spy just call Vitteli? Why only Barros?”

“Like I said, Charlie likes to insulate himself from any possible repercussions.”

“Yes, of course. That’s why the
only
reference to anyone named Charlie in
all
of the testimony, which you conveniently remembered when the district attorney was questioning your original statement, was some remark this Bebnev supposedly heard as he approached your booth?”

“I hadn’t remembered that when I gave my statement,” Corcione explained.

“No, you didn’t,” Kowalski said. “You only ‘remembered’ that—if that’s what you call it—when the district attorney asked you if there was some mention of Charlie Vitteli, and lo and behold, ‘Yeah, Mr. District Attorney, something was said and Bebnev might have heard it.’ ”

Kowalski angrily pointed his finger at Corcione and said, “The fact of the matter is that when you confessed to the district attorney,
more than three hours after Mr. Karp spoke to Frank DiMarzo at Sing Sing, you didn’t say anything about any conversation regarding Charlie Vitteli’s name coming up when you hired Alexei Bebnev to murder Vince Carlotta, isn’t that right?”

“I didn’t remember it at first,” Corcione replied quietly.

“Indeed you didn’t,” Kowalski sneered as he stalked over to the defense table and picked up several pieces of paper, which he held up as he walked back to the witness stand. “I’m referring here to the question-and-answer statement you gave to Mr. Karp AFTER your original confession. This is pages thirty-five through thirty-six, which the jurors will have with them during their deliberations. Question from Mr. Karp: ‘Prior to Mr. Bebnev arriving, did you, Joey Barros, and Marat Lvov have a conversation in which Charlie Vitteli’s name was mentioned?’ Answer: ‘I don’t recall.’ ”

The defense attorney glared at the witness, who blinked and swallowed hard. “Wasn’t that your answer, Mr. Corcione?”

“If that’s what it says there,” Corcione replied.

“That IS what it says here,” Kowalski shot back as he held up the papers. “But then with a little prodding, you suddenly answer: ‘Oh yeah, Lvov asked when the murder was to take place and Joey Barros said something about Mr. Vitteli wanting it done as soon as possible.’ ”

“But that’s the truth,” Corcione insisted.

“Is it, Mr. Corcione? Or is it a convenient fabrication by someone hoping to give the district attorney what he wants, the life of Charlie Vitteli?”

“Objection!” Karp said as he rose to his feet. “Your Honor, if counsel has proof, any evidence at all”—he gestured with his arms akimbo—“that this was a personal vendetta between the defendant and me, let him put it on the record now!”

“Maybe we should go into your spurious attack at the trial of Alexei Bebnev!” Kowalski shouted back.

“GENTLEMEN! Not another word!” Judge See demanded. He turned to the stenographer. “Strike that last comment by defense
counsel.” Then he scowled at Kowalski. “If the defense has any legitimate, legally admissible evidence regarding these accusations, I’ll allow it. But I will not permit, or tolerate, questionable tactics by either party to be practiced in this courtroom. The jury will disregard the last comment.”

Kowalski remained standing, glaring at the judge, but said nothing. Judge See interrupted the pregnant silence, “Mr. Kowalski, once again, I take your silence as an acceptance and understanding of my admonition. Please proceed.”

Returning the Q&A statement to the defense table as Corcione filled his paper cup and took a drink of water, Kowalski then faced the witness and asked, “First, according to your testimony, after a brief confrontation at Marlon’s Restaurant, the issues between my client and Vince Carlotta were essentially settled and the rest of the evening was spent recalling the ‘old days’ and drinking, is that correct?”

“Only because Vitteli knew what was going to happen,” Corcione pointed out. “It was a sham so that Vince wouldn’t suspect.”

Kowalski looked to the side and shook his head as if dealing with a not-so-bright child. “I asked you a simple question. You testified that after this supposed confrontation and agreement to work out their differences, the evening ended on a positive note, right?”

“Yes . . . but—”

“No ‘but,’ please, Mr. Corcione,” Kowalski interrupted, “just ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ please.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. You further testified, and the district attorney made much of the fact, that my client told his bodyguard, Sal Amaya, to go on ahead and accompany Randy McMahon to get Mr. Carlotta’s car.”

“Yes.”

“And during Mr. Karp’s examination he got you to state categorically
that except for this one instance, Sal Amaya never left Mr. Vitteli’s side.”

“I didn’t say never, but it would have been very unusual.”

“Well, let’s look at that whole scenario in another way,” Kowalski said as he again stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled over in front of the witness stand. “Isn’t it possible that Mr. Vitteli sent his bodyguard with Randy McMahon, Vince’s driver, so that he could spot any potential danger before his employer walked that same route?”

“Anything may be possible. . . .”

“Just answer my question yes or no, please,” Kowalski interjected.

“Yes, that’s a possibility.”

“And haven’t you testified that Joey Barros was a thoroughly dangerous man himself?”

“Yes, Joey Barros was a dangerous man.”

“And wasn’t Vince Carlotta a tough guy who came up on the docks the same way Charlie Vitteli and Joey Barros did and wasn’t afraid of a physical confrontation?”

“That’s true.”

“And in fact, according to your testimony, Vince Carlotta wasn’t afraid to take on the dangerous Mr. Barros, right?”

“He wasn’t afraid.”

Kowalski turned toward the defense table. “And if you look at my client, he’s not exactly a delicate wallflower, now, is he?” he asked as Vitteli smiled slightly at the description.

“No, Charlie at least looks like a big tough guy, too.”

“So by sending Sal Amaya ahead to scout for danger, and in the company of two other tough guys, maybe my client didn’t feel he needed a bodyguard to babysit him, especially if he wanted to talk privately with Vince Carlotta as they walked? Isn’t that a possibility?”

“It’s a possibility, but I never saw Amaya leave him under similar circumstance before.”

“Never? I believe Sal Amaya has worked for Mr. Vitteli for five years and in all that time, you can state that he never left his employer’s side?”

“I can’t say that and I haven’t testified to that.”

“Of course you can’t, because it’s not true,” Kowalski said.

“Objection,” Karp said. “The witness testified as to his experience in this matter, not what may or may not have occurred outside of his knowledge.”

“Sustained,” Judge See replied. “The jury will disregard Mr. Kowalski’s comment.”

“Let’s continue, Mr. Corcione,” Kowalski said. “It’s my recollection that when your party was accosted by two of the men you hired to kill Vince Carlotta, their intended victim began to draw his weapon and at that point you claim my client reached down and grabbed his arm. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I know how the district attorney has framed this, but aren’t there other explanations?”