in the slaying, and a small-time hood named Louis Capone (no kin to Al
Capone) was accused of being the man who assisted Weiss in his getaway.
Rosen had been found shot to death on the morning of September 13,
1936, lying on the floor of his small candy shop in Brooklyn.
One of the witnesses against Lepke was Max Ruben, whose death Lepke
had ordered when Ruben refused to stay out of New York. One of Lepke’s
henchmen had shot Ruben through the neck and left him lying near death.
But he had recovered to tell his story to Prosecutor Burton Turkus.
Ruben testified that Lepke--two days before Rosen was killed--told him:
“That bastard Rosen is going around Brownsville shooting his mouth off
that he’s going downtown. He and nobody else are going down anyplace or
do any more talking ... or any talking at all.”
Allie Tannenbaum, another of Lepke’s triggermen, supported Ruben’s
testimony. He said he had heard Lepke say of Rosen: “There’s one
son-of-a-bitch who’ll never go downtown.” By downtown, Lepke meant the
office of the district attorney.
Tannenbaum also told of hearing Mendy Weiss describe how he had shot
Rosen--after which his pal, “Pittsburgh Phil” Strauss, had pumped
bullets into the body just for kicks.
When Lepke was advised that Rosen was dead, Tannenbaum said his boss
replied, “What’s the difference as long as everyone is clean and got
away all right.”
A battery of nine attorneys defended Lepke. But this time the king of
the underworld couldn’t squeeze out of the trap. Too many of his old
gang had decided to talk. They had lived too long in fear that Lepke
would order their own deaths in his effort to remove anyone who might
be dangerous to him. Now they wanted Lepke out of the way.
Lepke, Weiss and Capone were convicted of murder and sentenced to die
in the electric chair. They went to their deaths on December 2, 1941.
* * * * *
Control of the narcotics traffic in the United States is primarily the
responsibility of the Narcotics Bureau. But Customs agents also have
a direct responsibility in the government’s efforts to throttle the
illicit trade. For this reason Customs agents frequently are teamed
with Narcotics agents in investigations which often are international
in scope.
It is not unusual for Customs agents to work for as much as two years
in tracking down a single narcotics smuggler and removing him from
circulation. These cases require endless hours of surveillance and
hunting for the one bit of information which will trap the quarry.
Such a case was dropped in the laps of Customs agents in San Francisco
and Seattle on August 2, 1954, when an informant tipped Customs agents
at Seattle that $30,000 worth of heroin was to be smuggled into the
United States aboard the SS _M. N. Patrick_ by a Negro seaman named
Robert King. He described King as tall, jug-eared and middle-aged, with
a taste for conservative clothes and gaudy night spots. The tipster
said King planned to take the heroin ashore in San Francisco when the
_Patrick_ completed her run from Hong Kong.
Seattle forwarded a teletype message to San Francisco saying:
“Information considered to be very reliable received today that ship
_M. N. Patrick_ arriving San Francisco between August 4 and August 8
from India via Hong Kong has heroin valued at about $30,000 on board.
Vessel supposed to be in Seattle today but not verified. The suspect,
Robert King, in steward’s department, is owner and will try to bring
ashore at San Francisco.”
Alerted by this message, San Francisco agents began checking on
the probable arrival time of the _Patrick_ only to discover that
the ship had changed its sailing schedule and would not touch San
Francisco on that trip. A message was forwarded to Seattle saying:
“We have just checked here and find that _Patrick_ is not coming to
San Francisco this trip. She is due in Seattle today (August 6) and
will make two trips from Seattle to Alaska and then back to Far East.
Under circumstances consider probable that King will try to unload at
Seattle....”
The _Patrick_ had already docked in Seattle when this message was
received. Agents rushed to the waterfront. But as the agents were
walking aboard the ship, King was walking off undetected, apparently
carrying the heroin with him.
A few hours later it was learned that King had contacted a known
narcotics peddler in Los Angeles and had arranged for a $30,000
“loan.” It was suspected by agents that King had made his contact
successfully and disposed of the narcotics before agents could get on
his trail.
Agents began checking on King’s background and on his movements as far
as possible in previous years. They discovered that while he had no
known source of income, he owned an apartment building in San Francisco
valued at $135,000. He maintained a bank account which showed heavy
deposits and withdrawals. It was discovered also that in past years he
had made frequent trips to Hong Kong and Japan. On occasions he had
shipped as a seaman, and at other times he had gone abroad as a tourist.
Treasury agents in Japan found that King often frequented the Port Hole
Bar in Yokohama, which was a known meeting place of narcotics peddlers
when they were trying to contact seamen to use as carriers.
For more than a year and a half agents kept a periodic check on
King’s movements in an effort to trap him in an act of smuggling
or trafficking in narcotics. They had no success until a seemingly
unrelated incident occurred in Japan.
On February 9, 1956, Japanese postal inspectors at Yokohama seized a
shipment of narcotics which proved to be of special interest to Customs
agents in San Francisco and Seattle. While making a routine examination
of a package mailed by international air mail, they found 167 grams of
heroin and 217 capsules of cocaine hidden in the folds of a pair of
woman’s pajamas and slippers. The package was addressed to a Mrs. Hazel
Scott in Seattle, Washington. The Customs declaration tag gave the name
of the sender as W. M. Scott and listed an address in Yokohama. The
addresses were written by typewriter. The narcotics were in a manila
envelope bearing the words “For Walker.” The Japanese turned this
information over to the U.S. Embassy.
During the years of the Allied Occupation of Japan after World War
II, American and Japanese authorities had achieved close cooperation
in combatting the traffic in narcotics and other contraband. This
cooperation was continued after the signing of the Peace Treaty in 1952
formally ending the occupation.
The United Nations made the control of narcotics traffic one of its
important objectives soon after its formation, resulting in a combined
effort by many nations to strangle the illicit trade by joint efforts
which were unknown in the years prior to the war.
Treasury agents were stationed in Tokyo as liaison officers to work
with Japanese authorities on any cases involving American interests.
And it was a routine matter for the Japanese police to give Treasury
agents the information on the seizure of the package addressed to Mrs.
Scott. This information was relayed from the U.S. Embassy to Customs
agents in San Francisco.
The agents found there had been a seaman named Walter Scott aboard
an American naval vessel in Yokohama at the time the package was
sent--but Scott had not mailed a package while his ship was in
Yokohama. Obviously whoever had sent the package containing narcotics
had used Scott’s name without his knowledge. As for the envelope marked
“For Walker,” agents suspected that it was probably intended for a
known narcotics dealer named Roosevelt Walker, who first came to the
attention of Customs in 1940 when he was arrested in Nogales, Arizona,
and was charged with smuggling a quantity of marihuana into the country.
And agents found another interesting fact: Walker was a companion of
Robert L. King. King had been in Tokyo at the time the package was
mailed, but there apparently was no way to link him with this smuggling
effort.
And so the surveillance of King was continued. On July 16, 1956, agents
trailed King to the International Airport at San Francisco. He had
booked passage on Pan American Flight 831 for Tokyo by way of Honolulu
and Manila. King was nattily dressed in a brown business suit and he
wore a rakish straw hat as he boarded the plane. The agents watched his
plane leave San Francisco at 10 A.M., making no effort to stop him.
Honolulu and Tokyo were alerted to the fact that King was aboard the
plane and that his movements should be watched.
King was permitted to enter Japan unmolested. He also was allowed
to leave Japan for a trip to Hong Kong, where he spent several days
shopping before returning to Tokyo.
The return to Tokyo was a mistake for King. For months Japanese police
had been trying to trace the typewriter which had written the addresses
on the package containing the narcotics. They found that King, at the
time the package was mailed, had been living in Yokohama at the Tomo
Yei Hotel. They also found that King had rented a typewriter--two days
before the parcel was mailed--from a Mr. Ono who ran a shop near the
hotel. And then they matched a sample of typing from this machine with
the typed address on the package containing narcotics. The comparison
left no doubt that this was the machine which had been used by the
would-be smuggler.
When King returned from Hong Kong on September 20, he was arrested by
Japanese police at the Tokyo International Airport and lodged in jail
at Yokohama, charged with narcotics smuggling. Unable to raise money
for a bail bond, King remained in jail for six months while authorities
in Japan and the United States investigated his case. But at last he
obtained money from friends in the United States and made bond. He was
released, pending a trial. The Japanese held on to his passport as
insurance that he would not leave the country.
Passport or no passport, King was determined to get out of Japan before
his trial. He went to the Yokohama waterfront and found an old friend
who agreed to smuggle him aboard the military transport _General C. G.
Morton_. The ship docked at Pier 5 at Oakland on April 14, 1957, and
King slipped ashore.
Within a matter of hours, Customs agents were on his trail. FBI agents
were called in on the case because King had returned to the country
without a passport, which was in the hands of Japanese police. The
agents found a seaman who testified he had seen King aboard the _C. G.
Morton_. The seaman told agents: “About two days before we got to San
Francisco, a friend came to me and said, ‘How would you like to make
some money?’ I asked him how and he said, ‘Take a package off the ship
for me in San Francisco.’ He showed me the package and it contained
ten rubbers filled with heroin. About two days after we got to San
Francisco I took the narcotics off at Pier 5, Oakland Army Terminal. My
friend walked off just ahead of me. I had the package of heroin under
my coat. We got in my car and went to a motel somewhere in the Richmond
district and registered. We stashed the package of heroin in our room.
I don’t know who picked up the heroin. The next night my friend gave me
King’s address and told me to go and see him. I went to the hotel and
King gave me $500.”
King denied that he had re-entered the United States illegally and
claimed that he had returned on a Pan American flight from Tokyo. But
agents were able to prove that King had not been booked aboard the
plane which he claimed he had been on. They broke down his alibis and
at last King entered a plea of guilty to a charge of conspiracy to
smuggle narcotics into the United States and to entering the United
States without a passport. He was convicted, fined $13,000 and sent to
prison for five years.
But it seems that whenever the Kings and the Lepkes are taken out of
circulation, there is someone new to take their place. That is why
there is a U.S. Customs force.
12
THE CASE OF THE CROOKED DIPLOMAT
The Case of the Crooked Diplomat had its beginning when an Arab
informer whispered a warning to a U.S. Bureau of Narcotics agent
in faraway Beirut, Lebanon. And before it was closed, agents of
the Customs Bureau, the Bureau of Narcotics and the French Sûreté
had teamed up in a cooperative drive to smash a ring of criminals
attempting to smuggle $20 million worth of heroin into the United
States.
They were an oddly assorted lot, the members of this ring. There were
only four known members, but in early 1960 their operations had begun
to stir alarm across the country among law enforcement agencies seeking
the mysterious source of heroin which at intervals had begun to appear
in large lots on the underworld market.
The quartet was composed of:
Mauricio Rosal, forty-seven, Guatemala’s ambassador to Belgium and the
Netherlands, and the son of a respected Central American diplomat; a
small, portly, balding man known favorably in many countries as a witty
conversationalist and shrewd politician of seeming integrity; something
of a dandy, he usually wore dark homburg hats, expensively tailored
dark blue suits and maroon ties; he affected an air of aristocratic
elegance both in dress and manners.
Etienne Tarditi, fifty-five, a short, heavy-jowled, paunchy, gross
figure of the Parisian underworld with a cloudy background; addicted
to trench coats, pork-pie hats and the notion that he resembled
Alfred Hitchcock (which he did); a gambler who played for big stakes
in narcotics, with connections in many countries; a manipulator who
usually remained in the background.
Charles Bourbonnais, thirty-nine, a slender, dapper steward for Trans
World Airways, who had an eye for a pretty girl when his wife was not
looking; often seen in the company of Tarditi when in Paris, and a
liberal spender for a salaried man; the messenger and fixer for the
ring.
Nicholas Calamaris, forty-seven, a powerful man with a huge nose, jug
ears, skull-like face and long arms which reached almost to his knees;
employed as a New York longshoreman, but this job was merely the front
for his nighttime operations as a big-time dealer in narcotics; a
cautious, secretive man with few close friends.
In the winter and spring of 1960, Federal, state and city police
agencies were at a loss to explain the source of heroin which was at
times available in almost any quantity desired. Agents canvassed their
underworld tipsters with little luck. The informers knew only that at
intervals the word would spread that another large load of heroin had
arrived in New York and was available. Where it came from and how it
entered the country none could--or would--say.
It was not until June that Narcotics Agent Paul Knight picked up the
first clue of substance in Beirut, which had become an important
listening post for the Narcotics Bureau.
A tipster whispered to Knight that heroin processed in Beirut from a
morphine base had been sent to a smuggling ring in Paris. The reputed
leader of the ring was a man named Etienne Tarditi. He had, the tipster
said, smuggled as much as 40 to 60 kilograms of heroin from Beirut
to France, and, according to rumors, it had gone from France to the
United States. The carrier was said to be a Spanish-speaking diplomat.
This was the first break. The information from Beirut was passed on to
the French Sûreté Nationale with a request that the Narcotics Bureau be
informed of Tarditi’s movements and his associates.
In August, the Sûreté informed the Bureau that Tarditi had returned to
Paris from a trip to New York. His plane companion on the trip, and
on several previous trips, had been the Spanish-speaking Guatemalan
ambassador, Mauricio Rosal. The Sûreté added that Tarditi also had been
seen in Paris in the company of a TWA steward named Charles Bourbonnais.
From this time forward, Tarditi, Rosal and Bourbonnais were under
almost constant police surveillance on the Continent. When Bourbonnais
returned to the United States on August 24 he was placed under
surveillance by Narcotics and Customs agents.
Bourbonnais, the agents found, was married to a TWA hostess. He lived
on Long Island and in recent months had sold a residence for $40,000.
He always seemed to have plenty of money, and he was something of a
playboy when his wife was away from home or when he was in Paris.
Agents trailed Bourbonnais when he drove from the airport. He drove a
devious route to an apartment house in Queens. He stood at the entrance
of the building looking furtively about before entering.
“That guy is really jumpy,” an agent remarked to another. “Do you think
he knows we are on his tail?”
“I don’t know,” was the answer, “but we’d better drop the surveillance.
He’s suspicious of something. He could have spotted us.”
The surveillance was called off temporarily. It wasn’t until later that
the agents learned that Bourbonnais’ wariness had nothing to do with
narcotics peddling. On this particular occasion he was on his way to a
rendezvous with a girl friend--and he merely wanted to be certain that
he wasn’t being followed by private detectives hired by his wife.
At the same time, Customs agents began checking into the background
of Mauricio Rosal, who they found had been a frequent visitor to the
United States. Leafing through old files one day, Agent Mario Cozzi
found a report showing that almost twenty years earlier Rosal had been
under investigation for alleged smuggling, although nothing had ever
been proved against him.
He had arrived in New York City aboard the SS _Nyassa_ on August 9,
1941, carrying papers which identified him as a Guatemalan chargé
d’affaires. He had claimed--and been granted--diplomatic courtesies
when passing through Customs with his wife. His declaration showed that
he was enroute from Lisbon to Mexico City on his way to Honduras.
The Rosals had remained in New York only a few days and then had
departed with their seventeen pieces of luggage, none of which was
subjected to Customs examination.
A few days after their departure, Customs agents were informed by
a tipster that Rosal had carried essential oils worth $40,000 and
diamonds worth $37,000 into the city. A diamond dealer was found who
admitted that Rosal had brought the diamonds to him and offered to sell
them.
“I refused to buy unless Rosal could produce receipts showing he had
paid the customs duty,” the dealer said. “When he could not show me a
proper clearance from Customs, I turned down his offer.”
Customs, however, had reason to believe that Rosal had disposed of the
essential oils and the diamonds before he left the city. Months later,
Customs Agent Salvador Pena had interviewed Rosal in Mexico City,
inquiring about his reported failure to list the dutiable imports on
his declaration.
Rosal blandly admitted he had carried the oils with him in a wooden
box. “I brought them over from Vichy for a friend,” he said, “and
delivered them to his brother at the Waldorf-Astoria. I was assured the
duty had been paid and I never dreamed, of course, there was anything
irregular.”
As for the diamonds, Rosal admitted he had approached a dealer and
offered to sell him several diamonds. But he insisted that when no
agreement was reached, he had taken the gems on to Venezuela, where he
had disposed of them. Had he made the sale in New York, he added with a
shrug, he would naturally have paid the required customs duty.
There was nothing further that Customs could do about the matter and
the case was closed. The report was filed away to gather dust until
Rosal’s name was linked with that of Tarditi.
On September 30, six weeks after Cozzi had found the old report,
the Sûreté advised the Narcotics Bureau that Rosal and Tarditi had
purchased tickets for a flight to New York and it was suspected they
would be carrying narcotics. Tarditi was booked to arrive at Idlewild
International Airport on October 1, and Rosal was due to arrive a day
later. Bourbonnais was scheduled to leave Paris a short time after
Tarditi as the steward aboard TWA’s Flight 801.
As the original tip on the case had come to the Narcotics Bureau, the
investigation was in the hands of District Director George H. Gaffney,
a veteran agent, with Customs playing a supporting role.
Thus began one of the most remarkable cases of Federal agency
cooperation in the war against smuggling. Gaffney laid his plans well,
and when TWA’s Flight 801 touched down at Idlewild at 5 P.M. on October
1, a squad of Narcotics and Customs agents was waiting to place Tarditi
under surveillance. Customs inspectors had been alerted to signal an
identification when Tarditi handed over his baggage declaration, and to
make only a cursory examination of a single piece of his luggage.
Tarditi stepped from the plane wearing a trench coat and a pork-pie
hat set jauntily at an angle. He seemed unconcerned when the inspector
asked him to open the single bag he carried to the inspection station.
The inspector noted on his declaration that his destination was the
Sherry Netherlands Hotel.
And so it was that Tarditi passed through Customs with no hint given
that several pairs of eyes were watching every move he made. A porter
carried Tarditi’s luggage to a waiting taxi while a radio message
was flashed from Idlewild to a squad of agents in midtown Manhattan
that the suspect was enroute to the Sherry Netherlands. Agents were
instructed to keep him under surveillance when he reached the hotel.
The taxi driver stowed Tarditi’s bag into the trunk of his cab and slid
behind the wheel. He said, “Where to, sir?”
Tarditi replied, “To the Savoy Hilton.”
The driver noted the destination on his trip sheet. He also scribbled
the words “Savoy Hilton” on a piece of paper which he wadded into the
palm of his left hand. The driver was Narcotics Agent Francis Waters.
As Waters drove from the loading platform, he placed his left hand
carelessly on the doorframe and dropped the piece of paper from the car
window. He noted with satisfaction in the rear-view mirror that the car
behind him stopped suddenly and a man jumped out to pick up the note.
At the Savoy Hilton, Tarditi was given Room 1337. The guest in 1339 was
a Narcotics Bureau agent.
Bourbonnais arrived on schedule about an hour after Tarditi.
The next afternoon, Sunday, agents were stationed at strategic points
when Rosal walked from the Pan American jet and made his way to the
Customs barrier where Inspector Pasquale Cammello had been assigned to
weigh and clear his luggage.
Discreet inquiries at the State Department in Washington had disclosed
that Rosal was not accredited in any way as a diplomat to the United
States, and, further, that the Guatemalan embassy knew nothing of his
trip to this country.
Under these circumstances, Rosal was travelling as a private citizen
with no legitimate right to the courtesies usually accorded visiting
diplomats. Nevertheless, he boldly claimed the privilege of immunity
for the four suitcases which accompanied him and Inspector Cammello
gave no hint that the claim was anything but routine.
Cammello noted that the bags weighed 19, 25, 50 and 52 pounds when he
placed them on the scales. He chatted pleasantly with the diplomat and
then waved Rosal on his way. A Pan American passenger representative
was waiting to drive the Ambassador to the Plaza Hotel near the Savoy
Hilton.
Rosal registered into Room 1205 at the Plaza, where agents had arranged
to occupy an adjoining room. He had a leisurely dinner in the hotel
dining room and then he strolled to the nearby Savoy, where he met
Tarditi in the lobby. The men kissed each other on the cheek and then
sat in a secluded corner in animated conversation. It was almost
midnight when they parted and went to their rooms.
The following morning, Tarditi left his hotel and took a cab to an
apartment building on East 79th Street. He remained in the building
only a few minutes, and when he emerged he was carrying a parcel
wrapped in brown paper. He went directly back to his hotel.
About 11 A.M., Tarditi left the Savoy Hilton, carrying in his hand the
brown parcel, and he walked to the Plaza Hotel.