Riccardo M. Ghia, "Italian White-Collar Crime in the Globalization Era" (2010)
“Isn’t it a shame to die so young, with so many experiences ahead of him?” [Judge Giovanni] Falcone asked [NOTE 1]. To which the mafioso replied: “Inzerillo died at thirty seven, it’s true. But his thirty-seven years are like eighty years to an ordinary person. Inzerillo lived well. He had lots of things in life. Others will never have a hundredth of those things. It is not a shame to die at that age, if you have done, had and seen all the things Inzerillo had done, had and seen. He didn’t die tired and satisfied by life. He died sated by life. That’s the difference.” (Alexander Stille, Excellent Cadavers, p.55)Emanuele Costa, a shadowy businessman whose rise was as mysterious and abrupt as his fall, died riddled with bullets. He was 45.
Costa was a family man. He loved the idea of family so much that he managed to have more than one. He had been married for many years to Gabriella Binda, who gave her husband two daughters and received in return a monthly allowance from him. Costa used to spend some nights with his wife in Vergiate, a little town in the province of Varese. In the meantime, Costa lived in Bergamo with Carole Buchy, a young French woman he had met in 1999, and two years later the couple had a son. However, it soon turned out that Costa could not content himself with two women. In the fall of 2004, he had embarked on a love affair with Silvia Senn, the owner of the bar below his office in Bergamo, and with Senn’s daughter, Pamela Masoni, with whom he spent the night before his murder (sentenza n.1/08, p.17).
Besides women, Costa’s great passion was money. His entrepreneurial past is a hazy rags-to-riches story. In the 1980s, Costa, a modest truck driver of Sicilian origin, took the helm of a series of businesses operating in the fields of import-export of cars, real estate, earthmoving, pressure die-casting, and restaurants. His whirlwind turnover was impressive. A few weeks before his death, he had granted a € 250,000 loan to an acquaintance to buy a Picasso (sentenza n.1/08, p.20).
The origin of his wealth is shrouded in mystery, but law enforcement agencies have no doubt that at least part of it was illegal. In the past, Costa had been investigated for usury. Two witnesses at the Costa’s murder trial testified that Costa used to loan money to small entrepreneurs at interests so high that they could not pay the money back. Running deeper into debt, they were forced to hand their properties and businesses over to Costa (sentenza n.1/08, p.18). His tactics, described as “rapacious” and “quasi-mafiose,” often turned into sheer extortion (sentenza n.1/08, p.24; 63).
Costa’s illegal economic activities were as diversified as his apparently legal ones. His name also appears in connection with an investigation related to 18 kilos of cocaine imported from Brazil by a Varese-based criminal organization linked to Cosa Nostra. In that case, Costa was arrested for receiving stolen credit cards (Gandini, 1993; Smuraglia, 1994: 167). He was also a defendant in an important trial in Milan concerning stolen cars trafficking. Costa’s intimate friend, Giuseppe Petralia, also appeared on the list of co-defendants.
Petralia shared with Costa a Sicilian origin and an unscrupulous quest for success. Also, he was bound for the same tragic fate. They had formed a close relationship in business as well as in their private life. Petralia tried to emulate Costa. In October 2004, Petralia had bought a BMW 730 similar to that of his friend. However, his financial resources could not match those of Costa. In the past, an embattled Petralia had to resort to loans from his own daughters. He had divorced from his wife, who later died in a car accident. Petralia, 53, lived with Naomi Cannatà, a much younger woman, and dreamed big, following his friend in new and ambitious projects (sentenza n.1/08, p.21-22). He was involved in a series of illicit activities that ranged from valued-added tax fraud to arms trafficking.
However, Costa and Petralia had grown increasingly worried after a business trip to Tunisia in September 2004. They were accompanied by Tonino Savignano, the head of a criminal organization that specialized in fraudulent bankruptcy.
The Savignano clan, based in Abruzzo, extended its tentacles as far as Lombardy. Before his death, Emanuele Costa had bought a print shop in Pescara and he used to go to Abruzzo from time to time (sentenza n.1/08, p.19).
Two years later, Carabinieri [NOTE 2] and Guardia di Finanza [NOTE 3] ’s “Operation Rubicone” would dismantle Savignano’s organization, which appeared to be loosely connected to Cosa Nostra. Amalia Costa, one of Emanuele’s daughters, was implicated in the investigation, while Savignano plea-bargained a sentence of four and half years in prison in January 2009 (Della Monica, 2006; Coppola, 2008; Pressoweb, 2009). Savignano was also investigated in connection with the murder of Costa and Petralia.
According to the Court of Assizes in Varese, it’s unclear what happened in Tunisia. When Costa and Petralia came back, their companions sensed that something was amiss. According to Cannatà, Petralia began to look anxious: he often woke up in the middle of the night to meet Costa in Bergamo. Binda, Costa’s wife, and Buchy, his lover, testified that Costa appeared profoundly upset.
Used to striking terror into his victims, it was now Costa who found himself frightened. On Oct. 29, a group of men had assaulted him. Once back at home, Buchy noticed his crumpled shirt and broken watch. Costa told her that four Apulians had beaten him and linked the assault to the sale of a business segment of one of his companies.
Costa owned “Cortefranca Engineering,” a firm operating in the field of pressure die-casting. He had sold a plant in Gallarate to “Globe srl” for € 400,000. However, the relationship between Costa and the owners of the Globe soured as he allegedly did not return the checks given to him as guarantee. After the assault, Costa hired a Romanian bodyguard, Costantin Stoica, and bought a car with tinted glass, a black BMW 730d (sentenza n.1/08, p.24-26; 95).
A few days later, Cannatà overheard a conversation between Costa and Petralia.
“You know, Giuseppe, I need money, or this time they’ll do me in,” Costa told his friend. “If you are so frightened, we can solve this matter differently,” Petralia said. “So far we’ve done it your way, now we do it my way.”
Cannatà understood that Costa and Petralia were to adopt strong-arm tactics, which might include the firearms hidden in Petralia’s warehouse (sentenza n.1/08, p.26).
Last days
On Nov. 4, Costa, Buchy and their 3-year-old son went on vacation to Saturnia, a spa town in Tuscany where Costa had purchased a hotel-restaurant. However, he left them just two days later. He traveled 300 miles to secretly spend the weekend in Sirmione, a tourist lake resort, with Silvia Senn, one of his lovers. He showed up in Saturnia again on Nov. 10. The relationship between Costa and Buchy soured. The day after, Buchy read an ambiguous text message on Costa’s cell phone, guessing – correctly – that he was cheating on her (sentenza n.1/08, p.26-27).
The quarreling couple cut their vacation short. On Friday, Nov. 12, they arrived in Bergamo and parted ways. Costa tried to persuade Buchy not to leave for France, but to no avail. On Saturday, she was already at her parents’ house in Strasbourg (sentenza n.1/08, p.33).
They never saw each other again.
That Friday night, Costa found solace in Varese, sleeping with Pamela Masoni, Silvia Senn’s young daughter. On Saturday afternoon, Nov. 13, Masoni went to the hairdresser. She waited for Costa to pick her up until the hair salon closed at 8 p.m.
He did not show up. Most probably, he was already dead by that time.
The bodies of Costa and Petralia were found a few hours later in Arcisate, a village five miles from Varese.
In cold blood
Shortly after 9:30 p.m., Giampiero D’Apolito, a car wrecker, passed in front of the premises of “CN,” an earth-moving and car wrecking firm owned and managed by Petralia. According to the judges of the Court of Assizes, D’Apolito became suspicious when he noticed that the gate was open and the building lights were off. He called Andrea Incognito, Petralia’s son-in-law and a CN employee, who tried to call Petralia’s cell phone, unsuccessfully. Living nearby, Incognito headed for CN.
In the yard, he saw Costa’s black BMW with its engine still running. The car had crashed into the wall of the office, wedged between a staircase and another parked car.
Incognito approached the BMW. Peering into the car, he recognized the bodies of Costa and Petralia covered in blood. Costa’s left foot still pushed the accelerator, and the wheels kept whirling, scarring the soil with ruts (sentenza n.1/08, p.34).
Incognito was terrified of his possible involvement, according to the Court of Assizes. His stormy relationship with Petralia was widely known. In the past, Petralia had threatened to fire him (sentenza n.1/08, p.34). Moreover, Incognito illegally possessed a 7.65-caliber handgun and he needed to get rid of it.
He quickly returned home and called D’Apolito back, asking to meet him at his garage. In the meantime, Incognito told his wife, Maria Petralia, that something had happened to her father. When D’Apolito arrived, Incognito handed him his handgun and ammunition to dispose of. Then, Incognito and his wife went back to the CN yard. He called the Carabinieri and the emergency phone numbers. Then, he informed Cannatà, while his wife contacted her sister (sentenza n.1/08, p.34).
The medical personnel found the bodies of Costa and Petralia still warm.
The photos taken by the Carabinieri show Costa slouching in the driver’s seat. His body slightly leans toward the right and his head is tilted backward. Pouring from his nose, rivulets of blood furrow his cheeks and drop onto his jacket. His incredulous expression looks like it was frozen at the time of the attack. Costa’s eyes are wide open as if in astonishment, looking at the roof of the car. One of the close-ups shows Costa’s right hand still clenching his Nokia cell phone.
Petralia sits, somewhat more upright, in the passenger’s seat. His head is tilted slightly forward, almost resting on his left shoulder. His closed eyes and his more natural expression could mislead one into believing that he was sleeping, if not for the blood blotting his face.
The forensics ascertained that the victims had been killed by five shots fired at their heads and chests from the back seats. Costa and Petralia, who had been completely taken by surprise, died instantly.
Two months later, investigators believed they had found the key to the double murder. The killer was a neighbor, Isidoro Marai, who owned a transport firm and had a previous conviction for robbery. Marai was a good friend of Petralia’s and had asked him and Costa for help in dealing with a huge debt toward the INPS, the Italian social security agency. He had failed to pay more than € 200,000 in social security contributions on behalf of his employees. Therefore, Costa and Petralia concocted a VAT fraud through false or inflated invoices that created a false “credit” in favor of Marai toward the Italian government.
Costa and Petralia’s help came with a price: € 130,000. Marai had anticipated only € 10,000 then tried to delay the payment of the rest. Costa and Petralia pressured him. Marai had met them that Saturday afternoon in the yard of CN. Three eyewitnesses testified that Marai had left the place around 5 p.m. and that the victims were still alive.
According to Deputy Public Prosecutor Massimo Politi, Marai had later come back and shot his victims dead in the car. After the murder, he went dancing with his wife. Andrea Incognito, who had taken over CN after Petralia’s death, and D’Apolito had been accomplices in the murder (Del Frate, 2005). However, all the defendants were acquitted of the murder charges.
The shadow of Cosa Nostra and ‘Ndrangheta
Besides the Marai-Incognito hypothesis, two other lines of investigation pointed in the direction of organized crime.
The first one suggested a connection with Tonino Savignano: Costa’s business in Abruzzo and the mysterious trip to Tunisia.
The second focused on Cosa Nostra. The connection emerges in the Costa-Petralia-Marai VAT fraud. Financial records show that they had concocted a fictitious commercial triangulation inside the European Community. “Euro.Com Srl,” a Cremona-based company, pretended to sell goods to the “Autotrasporti Marai Isidoro,” which created a VAT credit for Marai. The second stage of the operation envisioned the fictitious sale of such goods to a Spanish company, “Adoler Grup s.l.”: according to Italian law, the invoices of this sale were VAT-free. Therefore, Marai was able to deduct more than € 600,000 in VAT where the VAT due was never accounted for. This system of “compensation” allowed Marai to pay off the social security of his employees by claiming a false VAT credit (sentenza n.1/08, p.50-51).
The “Euro.Com” was a shell company, formally run by Roberto Stringhetti, but de facto managed by Marco Cagali and Alberto Schiavone, two previous offenders connected to Cosa Nostra. Marai’s defense attorney had indicated Cagali as a person who could have been involved in Costa and Petralia’s murder. It turned out that Cagali maintained business relationships with the powerful Badalamenti clan (sentenza n.1/08, p.51; 95).
The long-time head of the organization had been Gaetano Badalamenti, a member of the Sicilian Mafia commission in the 1970s, and acquainted with many secrets of the First and Second Italian Republic. He was also known for ordering the homicide of a political activist, Peppino Impastato, and for his friendship with Tommaso Buscetta, one of the most famous Mafiosi turned-state-witnesses. Badalamenti, called “Don Tano,” had died in a U.S. prison in April 2004.
Cagali admitted both his ties with the Badalamenti family and Emanuele Costa. In the past, he had contracted a € 250,000 debt with Costa. Tensions had emerged between them, but Cagali insisted that he had paid Costa back.
Cagali and Costa’s business relationship went beyond Euro.Com. The Polizia stradale (Highway Police) [NOTE 4] had found them involved in the management of “Service Car srl.” Amalia Costa, one of Emanuele’s daughters, had run the company since 2000. In 2003, Ms. Costa handed over the management of the business, now renamed “Autocar CM,” to Giovanni Milioto, a well-known criminal. After a whirlwind change of hands, the company went bankrupt in 2007. As it later turned out, Amalia Costa and Giovanni Milioto served as mere figureheads to conceal the brains behind the entire operation: Emanuele Costa, Marco Cagali and Maurizio Ponzoni (annotazione di p.g. n.3884/2008, p.22-24). Cagali and Ponzoni were later arrested in 2006 in the police operation “Ghost Cars’ Brokers.” They were accused of running a criminal organization specializing in trafficking stolen cars from Germany and defrauding leasing and insurance companies (Mancino, 2006).
R. P. (personal communication, July 2009), a policeman, said that Ponzoni is also linked to Vincenzo Rispoli [NOTE 5] , who has been recently accused of being the head of the ‘Ndrangheta’s locale [NOTE 6] in Legnano [NOTE 7] (Mastrillo 2009, a, b). According to the investigators, the Rispoli-led organization indulged in extortions, usury and robberies, terrorizing many small businesses in the province of Varese. But nobody had dared to denounce the harassment. How did such organizations come to become rooted in Varese, a rich town a few miles from the Swiss border?
The Mafias in Northern Italy
Hollywood movies portray Mafia-type organizations as the dying legacy of underdeveloped areas in Southern Italy. If that’s the case, it would appear impossible to explain its territorial and economic expansion in high-income areas of the industrialized North, such as the province of Varese and Milan.
Shortly before his death on September 3, 1982, General Carlo Alberto Dalla Chiesa gave a sobering assessment of Mafia expansion. “By now the Mafia is in all the major Italian cities where it has made considerable real estate and commercial investments,” Dalla Chiesa said in an interview. “The epoch in which the Mafia was limited geographically to western Sicily is over” (Stille, 1995: 67). In 1994, an inquiry of the Anti-Mafia parliamentary commission formally acknowledged that there were no longer “oases” untouched by Mafia-type organizations on Italian soil (Smuraglia, 1994: 14).
Journalists and the readership must jettison the long-enduring idea that Mafia is the by-product of the backwardness of some Italian areas. Judge Giovanni Falcone, one of the greatest Italian investigators whom Cosa Nostra assassinated ten years after General Dalla Chiesa, wrote that the Mafia method is “the synthesis of every form of illicit exploitation of wealth” and that it’s “never outdated or inexplicable [because] it’s a logic of power, always functional to achieve a goal” (Falcone & Padovani, 1991). Along with profits, the Mafiosi also need to channel the flow of hot cash. Such an impressive amount of money cannot be hidden but necessitates constant reinvestment in legal and illegal activities.
From this perspective, it’s easy to understand why the biggest prize for the Mafias was Milan, the heart of Italian finance. The Mafiosi had understood the strategic importance of the city since the early years of the post-war economic boom. Hungry for investments, Milan was the ideal place to launder money and to form alliances with big business.
During the late 1950s, top Mafiosi such as Giuseppe Antonio Doto (better known as Joe Adonis) settled in Milan. Cosa Nostra held summits in Cologno Monzese, a small city close to Milan, in which leading Mafia figures took part. It was inconceivable that they could convene in Cologno while staying invisible. It was also inconceivable that they could choose that place if they did not have connections there (Veltri & Laudati, 2009: 199).
In 1992, two months before his death, Judge Paolo Borsellino had an interview with two French journalists about the relationship between the Mafia and Silvio Berlusconi, the media tycoon who would become the most influential Italian politician two years later. Borsellino argued that the Mafia looks for chances to reinvest its massive amount of money, therefore being connected to Northern magnates and financiers is crucial to the organization (Veltri & Laudati, 2009: 230). Two years later, an Anti-Mafia Parliamentary Commission report warned about the converging interests of white-collar, organized and Mafia-type organizations in Northern Italy (Smuraglia, 1994: 36).
Now Lombardy ranks as the fourth Italian region for extortions and forfeitures of real-estate properties from Mafiosi after Sicily, Calabria and Campania (Veltri & Laudati, 2009: 211).
The Fifth Section of the Court of Assizes in Milan recently ascertained the presence of a “big Mafia confederation” between Cosa Nostra, ‘Ndrangheta and Camorra in Northern Italy (Veltri & Laudati, 2009: 204). Close cooperation between the three biggest Mafia-type organizations is nothing new: Judge Giovanni Falcone had already discovered in the early 1980s that Sicilian Mafiosi worked hand-in-glove with their Neapolitan and Calabrian counterparts (Stille, 1995: 34). Falcone also explained that the Mafia kills in Palermo but invests its money in Milan (L’Espresso, 2009). In 1994, the Anti-Mafia parliamentary commission stated that the Mafia-type organizations that were operative in the Milan-Como-Varese triangle had reached a remarkable level of integration. In fact, they shared power by managing different economic activities rather than by running different territories (Smuraglia, 1994: 156; see also Grigo, 2003: 3). Moreover, the Mafiosi had also formed alliances with local criminal individuals and groups, so that they could control a wider territory with fewer financial and human resources (Sciarrone, 1998: 127-128).
But sometimes, the presence of the Mafias in Northern Italy amounts to more than drug trafficking and money laundering. Mafia-type organizations have been successful in colonizing entire areas. Carmine Gallo, assistant police commissioner of the organized crime team of the flying squad in Milan, said that the ‘Ndrangheta families follow a carefully planned strategy. They settle in small municipalities rather than big cities in order to control and reproduce the same social and environmental conditions of their native region. Sometimes there are no law enforcement officers there, and it is easier for their sentries to detect the presence of plain-clothes policemen. Saverio Morabito, a Mafioso-turned-state-witness, said that the ‘ndranghetisti had turned the area of Buccinasco and Corsico, two municipalities in Lombardy, into clones of Platì, a small town in Calabria highly known for its high concentration of Mafiosi (Blu Notte, 2008; see also Sciarrone, 1998: 288). Giacomo Lauro, another Mafioso-turned-state-witness, said that “the policy of the ‘Ndrangheta often consists in massive transfers to Northern Italy of families and individuals linked to clans, in order to form criminal holdings on fully-controlled territories” (Sciarrone, 1998: 43).
From the 1970s on, the ‘Ndrangheta has shown a greater vitality in the area. Its kin-based system of recruitment facilitates transplantation when an entire blood family migrates: in these instances, the criminal group will automatically reconstitute itself in the new locale and establish control over its territory (Varese, 2006: 417-418). According to the Anti-Mafia Parliamentary Commission, “The familial bond has not only worked as a shield to protect secrets and enhance security, but [it has] also helped to maintain identity in the territory of origin and reproduce it in territories where the family has migrated” (Varese, 2006: 424).
At the same time, the ‘Ndrangheta has taken control of famous shops in downtown Milan, and gained foothold in banks such as San Paolo di Brescia, Cassa di Risparmio di Torino, Deutsche bank, and Banca Agricola Mantovana thanks to corrupt employees. Yet, the local political authorities still insist on denying the presence of Mafia-type criminal groups in Milan (Veltri & Laudati, 2009: 211; 223). In May 2009, the center-right majority in the city of Milan reversed its position on a proposal to create an Anti-Mafia commission to watch over the massive number of contracts and tenders in sight of Expo 2015, the universal exposition that Milan will host (Frigerio, 2009).
At the foot of the Alps
The strategic location of the province of Varese has been just as attractive as Milan for Mafia-type criminal organizations. The area, with a size equivalent to less than a third of that of the state of Rhode Island, is home to more than 850,000 living in 141 municipalities (comuni) [NOTE 8], and almost 30 percent of the population is concentrated in the four main cities (Varese, Busto Arsizio, Gallarate and Saronno) (Smuraglia, 1994: 166; Unione Industriali di Varese, 2009). It borders Switzerland to the north, the province of Como to the east, the province of Milan to the south and the provinces of Novara and Verbania, in the region of Piedmont, to the west.
The Italian-Swiss border functioned as a magnet for a wide array of illegal activities. Contraband, the main illegal enterprise until the 1970s, gave way to more heinous crimes, such as drug and arms trafficking, kidnappings, and murders. The presence of the famous Casinò of Campione, located in an Italian enclave within the Swiss canton of Ticino, provided cannon fodder for loan sharks (Smuraglia, 1994: 167). But, even more important, the bank secrecy offered by Swiss banks tempted Mafia-type criminal organizations, as well as corrupt politicians and white-collar criminals.
Switzerland, the land of Plenty. Its name evokes a neat, law-abiding, high-income, peaceful country, encircled by the soaring Alps and immersed in a bucolic landscape. Geneva is the headquarters to the International Red Cross, and the Red Cross emblem itself is said to have been derived from the Swiss flag. And yet, in this oasis of Alpine tranquility the coffers of the banks welcome the blood-stained money of ruthless dictators, corrupt politicians, greedy businessmen, wealthy tax-evaders, and shadowy criminal organizations, including the Italian mafias. Its soil hosts countless shell companies used in a kaleidoscope of criminal activities. Switzerland, along with Luxembourg, is the dream of any money launderer, a black hole in the middle of Europe, a giant slush fund itself.
Italian law enforcement agencies have a hard time patrolling the endless mountain passes that connect the province of Varese to Switzerland. Streams of hot cash keep flowing from Italy into the Swiss Confederation through these Alpine valleys (Grigo, 2003: 92). Beside its geographic proximity, the Italian-speaking Canton Ticino, the southern Swiss region bordering the Varese area, has also the advantage of having no linguistic barriers between banking consultants and their Italian clients.
The Italian government, always suffering cash shortages and widespread tax evasion, has tried to stem the cash flow. The last desperate move has been a “tax shield” that guarantees impunity to those who repatriate their money in exchange for a pittance of just five percent of that capital, in defiance of all the law-abiding Italian taxpayers. To convince those reluctant, the government unleashed the Guardia di Finanza, the Italian financial police, to find secret bank accounts. Italian authorities estimate that Swiss banks harbor € 600 billion undeclared to the Italian tax authorities.
The “fiscal war” has heightened tensions between Switzerland and Italy. But peaceful Switzerland has a secret, formidable weapon: blackmail. A former bank director declared that, if he talked, the Italian government would fall in just a day. A Swiss politician quipped about Giulio Tremonti, the Italian finance minister, that “he is maybe the only minister of finance in the world who, in his previous job of financial legal expert, has himself transferred large sums on Swiss bank accounts. Therefore, he knows the topic perfectly.” A Swiss newspaper threatened Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi: “Thanks to the silence of lawyers and banks in Canton Ticino, it’s still unclear where the millions that allowed the rise of his [financial] empire come from.” It’s not difficult to guess why the Italian government retreated (Annicchiarico, 2009; Morea, 2009).
In the absence of adequate financial controls, Mafia-type organizations have flourished. The Anti-Mafia Parliamentary Commission has found that the Sicilian and Calabrian Mafia infiltration in the Varese area reaches the extent of that in Milan in terms of organization, numbers, and drug and arms trafficking. Also, frauds and usury thrive, often underreported to the police. In 1994, police forces estimated that at least 130 Mafia “affiliates” operated in the area, forging alliances or businesses with Sicilian, Calabrian, Campania and Lombard criminals (Smuraglia, 1994: 167).
According to Maurizio Grigo (2003: 44-45), chief prosecutor in Varese, demographic changes have contributed to a successful Mafia transplantation, in particular the influx of Southern Italians and the so-called “forced resettlement” (soggiorno obbligato), the policy of punishing convicted Mafiosi by forcing them to relocate outside their area of origin. From the 1950s on, this practice was “predicated on the [erroneous] assumption that, away from their home base and immersed in the civic, law-abiding culture of the north, mafiosi from the south would abandon their old ways” (Varese, 2006: 417). At the same time, manpower-hungry manufacturing industries in Varese, such as the famous “Ignis” (now Whirlpool Europe), drew crowds of immigrants from the poorer South.
However, many scholars argued that such changes themselves could not complete the transplantation process. If that were the case, the Mafia phenomenon would have already emerged in Northern Italy in the 1950s and 1960s. Instead, the effects of organized crime erupted in the 1970s. Therefore, local causes favored the change. According to Pino Arlacchi, it was the growing importance of drug trafficking: Milan had become one of the most important markets of morphine in Europe, while Northern society fostered a demand for heroin sufficient to sustain a steady offer from organized criminal groups. In addition, the expansion of risky, unscrupulous finance severed from industrial plans and the need of Mafia families to re-invest their money led to a “joint venture” between Mafia-type organizations and white-collar criminals (Sciarrone, 1998: 119-120).
This is the context in which Emanuele Costa and Giuseppe Petralia were killed.
The briefcase
In the BMW in which Costa and Petralia were murdered, investigators found a briefcase containing plentiful documentation about Costa’s activity. Interestingly, one of the documents was the remand in custody [NOTE 9] of a certain Silvano Sordi:
According to the articles 284 and 299 of the criminal procedure code,
[I] substitute the measure of preventive detention in prison of Sordi Silvano with the measure of house arrest at his abode located in Montegrino Valtravaglia (Va), via Moroni n.11. […]
Asti, 21 October 2004.
The Judge
dr. Federico Manotti
In Costa’s cellphone – the same cellphone Costa was holding in his right hand when he was killed – investigators found several phone numbers recorded in Sordi’s name.
Sordi’s criminal pedigree did not look particularly impressive. He had plea-bargained a fine of € 5,100 for water pollution in 1995 and little less than € 1,500 for a fraud in 1997 (casellario giudiziale, 2007). He had been recently incarcerated for being the mastermind behind a fraudulent bankruptcy scheme in Asti, a city a hundred miles from Varese, in the region of Piedmont.
But Silvano Sordi substantially differed from the other characters revolving around the murder of Costa and Petralia.
He was a financial and industrial advisor to several important entrepreneurs.
He boasted important political connections.
He had been himself a prominent labor union leader in Varese.
NOTES
(1) “Falcone, who was killed on May 23, 1992, was an important anti-Mafia magistrate and one of the major figures in the 1986-87 Maxi Trial, in which 360 Mafiosi were convicted. Falcone and his wife, Francesca Morvillo – also a magistrate – and three policemen were killed when a roadside bomb exploded as they drove from the airport to Palermo” (Saviano, 2007: 51).
(2) “Arma dei Carabinieri” is an Italian military corps of the gendarmerie type with police functions, which also serves as the Italian military police.
(3) “Guardia di Finanza” is the Italian financial police. As it retains military status, like the Carabinieri, it is part of the Italian Armed Forces.
(4) “Polizia stradale” is a sub-directorate of the Italian State Police (Polizia di Stato), one of the national police forces in Italy.
(5) In a later personal communication (Nov. 2009), agent R. P. said that the ties between Ponzoni and Rispoli date back to the 1990s. Ponzoni was suspected of managing an amusement arcade in Legnano, named “Bidibodibu,” on behalf of Rispoli. This business was later closed down as Ponzoni was arrested for cloning credit cards. According to 2005-2006 police reports, Ponzoni used to regularly visit Rispoli’s fruit-and-vegetables shop. Rispoli’s wife also purchased an SUV from Ponzoni, who had formerly come into possession of the vehicle through a fraud.
(6) The “locale” is a subdivision of the ‘Ndrangheta, a specific confederation of Mafia families that is located mostly in Southern Calabria and has been documented since the second half of the 19th century (Varese, 2006: 422). Unlike Cosa Nostra, it is a more flexible and less centralized organization (Sciarrone, 1998: 42; Napoleoni, 2008: 59). The basic unit, the ‘ndrina, is the equivalent of the Cosa Nostra “cosca.” The ‘ndrina is autonomous and sovereign over its territory – usually a small town or neighborhood. Two or more ‘ndrine that operate in the same city can form a locale. In some cases, sotto ‘ndrine (sub-‘ndrine) have been established (Varese, 2006: 422). The chiefs hold annual meetings, called crimini, and every year they elect a capo crimine in charge of making preparations for the event, which appears to be more a convention set to exchange crucial intelligence.
(7) Legnano is a town of 55,000 situated in the flat lands of the Po Valley between Milan and Lake Maggiore. It is 20 miles from Varese.
(8) In Italy, the “comune” (plural: “comuni”) is the basic administrative unit of both provinces and regions, and may be approximated in casual speech by the English word “township” or “municipality.”
(9) In Italian: “ordine di custodia cautelare.”
