Animal (22 page)

Paul Rico had been gunning for the McLaughlin brothers in his own way since he found out that they had called him a “fag” during a conversation that was captured by a gypsy wire. Rico had planned to murder at least one of the brothers himself. When Rico and Condon had discovered where fugitive killer Georgie McLaughlin was hiding out in the winter of 1965, Rico had no intention of bringing the man to justice. Instead, Rico wanted to kill Georgie and had asked Stevie Flemmi for an untraceable gun that he could use as a throwdown to make it appear as if McLaughlin had drawn his weapon first. The plan was scrubbed when Rico could not
get the full support of his
FBI
raid team. Five agents had agreed to the plot, but a sixth agent could not be convinced. H. Paul Rico knew that there would be no questions of conscience among his underworld friends. The
FBI
man had provided Flemmi and Salemme with valuable information about Punchy’s whereabouts, including the address of his girlfriend. The two mobsters began trailing McLaughlin and found their third opportunity to strike on October 20, 1965, when Punchy made plans to support his brother Georgie at his murder trial. Since he could no longer drive, the one-handed gangster’s girlfriend drove him to a West Roxbury bus stop where he would travel by bus and then by subway to the courthouse in Boston’s Pemberton Square.

As he stood waiting for the bus with six other commuters, Punchy gripped a small brown paper bag he had been carrying. Inside the bag was a handgun. Suddenly, two cars came into view. The first vehicle carried two hitmen, one behind the wheel and the other in the backseat. The second car, a four-door Chevy, pulled up across the street. The Chevy would be used as a crash car to delay any pursuit of the killers as they tried to flee. Wearing wigs and heavy makeup, Stevie Flemmi and Frank Salemme stepped out of the first vehicle and ran toward Punchy with weapons drawn. McLaughlin turned and ran. With his one good hand, he tossed the brown paper bag concealing his gun to a frightened woman who was waiting in line for the bus. His killers closed the gap quickly and fired five shots into his body, hitting his heart, lungs, liver, and spleen. The last bullet was fired at close range and pierced his scrotum. Punchy McLaughlin fell dead in the street. His luck had finally run out.

Police quickly began rounding up the usual suspects including Joe Barboza, who had been spending a lot of his time recently trying to figure out a way to kill Punchy’s brother Georgie, who was being housed at the Charles Street Jail during his murder trial. Barboza had hoped to shoot Georgie from an apartment window overlooking the prison yard about seventy-five yards away. The problem was that the youngest McLaughlin brother refused to leave his cell out of fear that he would be assassinated. Once it became known that the turtle would never poke its head out of its shell, all focus was shifted to Punchy. The hit on Punchy had been carried out by Flemmi and Salemme, but investigators believed that the Animal had most certainly participated in the planning, considering the fact
that a crash car had been involved. Also, Barboza’s James Bond car had fit the description of the vehicle used by the killers. When police searched Joe’s car, they found a suitcase filled with wigs and makeup. Barboza told the cops that the case had been left behind by a girlfriend who worked as a showgirl and actress. Joe was kept at the station for eleven hours until several female witnesses were brought in with the hope that they could positively identify Punchy’s killers. Barboza was asked to stand in front of a one-way mirror. Cops ordered him to stand still, but the Animal refused. Instead he paced back and forth, growling at the people he knew were standing on the other side of the glass. “You’d better be fucking sure,”
⁶⁰
he yelled. No doubt rattled by the thinly veiled threat, the women told investigators they were not sure whether Barboza was one of the men in either of the two cars. The murder of Punchy McLaughlin would go unsolved, at least officially.

McLaughlin’s murder would be avenged several days later in shockingly brazen fashion. On October 19, 1965, Joe Barboza called mob boss Buddy McLean at the Tap Room, McLean’s Winter Hill headquarters, and told him that he was running down some good information on the whereabouts of McLaughlin Gang hitman Stevie Hughes. McLean was excited to hear the news, and the two friends exchanged pleasantries and insults and both promised to get together soon.

“Be careful and keep your right hand high, Seagull,”
⁶¹
McLean told Barboza before he hung up the phone.

Several hours later, at approximately 1:05 a.m., Buddy McLean and two bodyguards, Americo Sacramone and Anthony D’Agostino, who were both on parole, strolled out of the Peppermint Lounge on Winter Hill. They passed the abandoned Capitol Theatre, where Stevie Hughes was waiting with an automatic rifle. Hughes ambushed McLean on the street and fired four shots, striking both bodyguards. Buddy grabbed his men and tried to drag them behind his 1965 Buick and out of the line of fire. Hughes rushed forward and took aim once more. He raised the rifle toward the back of Buddy’s head and fired. As McLean collapsed on the sidewalk, Hughes escaped through the back of the shuttered theater to a waiting car with his brother Connie at the wheel. Buddy McLean was rushed to Mass General Hospital, where he died thirty hours later. Buddy had $1,400 in one pocket and a .38-caliber revolver in the other. “McLean
was living on borrowed time,” said Somerville police chief Thomas O’Brien. His bodyguards survived the attack but were later returned to prison on parole violations.

Barboza learned of the shooting in the early morning hours as he was leaving a bar in Boston’s West End. He could hardly believe the news. He rushed over to the Tap Royal, where several Winter Hill Gang members were swapping information about the hit and planning their next move. Once Joe had found out that Stevie Hughes was the likely gunman, his anger could only be matched by the guilt he felt for not having killed Hughes when he’d had the chance. The Irish good-bye for James “Buddy” McLean was the biggest ever seen in Somerville. The streets around Kelliher’s Funeral Home were lined with cars as politicians, mobsters, and union officials alike gathered to pay their final respects to the founding father of the Winter Hill Gang. Detectives in plain clothes walked up and down Broadway, writing down the registration numbers of all the vehicles. Inside the funeral home, McLean’s bronze casket was surrounded by bouquets of red roses and hundreds of Mass cards. The coffin cover was kept closed, as Buddy’s face had been partially torn off by the rifle blast. Instead, mourners were greeted by a beaming photograph of the Winter Hill boss and also by his widow, Jean, and their teenaged son, who kept vigil stoically next to the casket.

Barboza entered the funeral home and met friends with a somber nod as he made his way down the receiving line. He shook the son’s hand and hugged McLean’s widow gently, not wanting to wrinkle her black dress or mess her perfectly quaffed platinum hairdo. Joe also offered his pledge of support for the gang’s new boss, Howie Winter. As Barboza filed out of the funeral home a detective pulled him aside. “Hey Joe, who’s in there?” he asked.

“A lot of people I don’t know,”
⁶²
the Animal said as he walked toward his James Bond car and drove away.

The next morning, three hundred people turned out for Buddy McLean’s funeral Mass at St. Polycarp Parish in the heart of Winter Hill. The church was surrounded by a large detail of uniformed police officers armed with shotguns. The side and back doors of the parish were also locked during
the service, just in case the Hughes brothers decided the funeral would be a perfect opportunity to wipe out the rest of McLean’s gang.

A week later, a high-ranking member of the Winter Hill Gang received a large floral arrangement with an elegant black ribbon. There was no name on the card, but he knew it had come from Stevie and Connie Hughes and the message was clear—You’re next.

Raymond L. S. Patriarca. The Godfather of the New England Mafia, who was both idolized and later reviled by Joe Barboza.
Courtesy of the Massachusetts State Police
.

Gennaro “Jerry” Angiulo. The Boston underboss bought his way into La Cosa Nostra by handing Raymond Patriarca an envelope stuffed with $50,000.
Courtesy of the Massachusetts State Police
.

Buddy McLean. Boss of Somerville’s Winter Hill Gang, McLean presided over one of the bloodiest mob wars in American history.
Courtesy of the Massachusetts State Police
.

Vincent “Jimmy the Bear” Flemmi. A cherubic psychopath whose goal was to become the number one hit man in New England.
Courtesy of the Massachusetts State Police
.