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Entries in Giangiacomo Ciaccio Montalto (2)


News Muse 4.17.13

by Carl Russo

The Muse has struck again! My keyboard is a bloody mess as I bang out the last sections of my book, The Sicilian Mafia: A True Crime Travel Guide. Part of my burden is to keep up with Cosa Nostra’s never-ending news and update my manuscript accordingly. A few items have popped up recently that beg a quick comment.

Michele AielloLike the largest confiscation of Mafia booty in Italy since…ever! As Sicilians suffer some of the highest unemployment rates in the European Union, a bank-busting $1.7 billion worth of dirty assets were seized from Vito Nicastro, “the Lord of the Wind.” A frontman for gone-with-the-wind fugitive boss Matteo Messina Denaro, Mr. Nicastro is said to have laundered Mafia money mostly through wind and solar farms in Trapani province, reaping the green from “green energy.”

And after the authorities made the confiscations, what did they do with Nicastro? Throw him in jail pending a trial? Nah. They suggested he stick around his home city of Alcamo, which, if you’ve ever been there, you’ll say is a bit harsh. Unless it’s Alcamo Marina, a separate resort town with nice homes and white beaches and probably where the bastard lives.

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Hit and Miss

by Bluto Ray

In the mid-1980s, the “excellent cadavers” were starting to pile up. Investigative judge Carlo Palermo had already lost two distinguished colleagues to Mafia assassins: Colonel Giuseppe Russo and Judge Giangiacomo Montalto. Palermo took on the cartels while stationed in the northern Italian city of Trento. There he uncovered a vast international drug and arms operation that sparked a bribery scandal in Parliament.

Barbara Rizzo AstaCertain higher powers apparently found the dedicated servant to be a little too efficient: all of his investigations were ordered closed. Frustrated, Palermo transferred to the Sicilian port city of Trapani to take the place of the murdered Judge Montalto.

Certainly nobody else wanted the job in the Mafia infested region. In those days, the hilly northwest region of the island hid a number of factories busily refining Turkish heroin for the American market. The 38-year-old judge arrived with a list of thirty or so mafiosi he had connected to trafficking and other crimes. It took only two weeks for the Mafia to throw him a welcoming party.

On the morning of April 2, 1985, Judge Palermo was being whisked down the coastal highway from a military base to his Trapani office in an armored Fiat 132. Following close behind were his bodyguards in an unprotected Fiat Ritmo. Waiting for the tiny entourage was a Volkswagen Golf parked by the side of the road in the beach town of Pizzolungo. It was empty except for the nearly fifty pounds of dynamite inside set to detonate by remote control.

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