Free The Coffey Files by Jerry; Joseph; Schmetterer Coffey Page A

cop and reporter in New York knew, the headquarters of the capo di tutti capi, Paul “Big Paulie” Castellano.
    Joe Coffey once told a reporter, “The Mafia is the biggest single shareholder in the American economy. They’ve become a second economy. They have more influence on the daily lives of all Americans than the government or Wall Street or even the Church. They can manipulate anything.”
    In 1978 Castellano was the CEO of that criminal corporation. In New York alone he ran loan-sharking, prostitution, pornography, drug dealing, gunrunning, extortion, book-making, and counterfeiting organizations and any other criminal enterprises that would add to the wealth of the Gambino clan.
    If you wanted to unload your truck in the city’s garment center or sell pictures of naked children in Times Square you had to pay tribute to a Castellano capo. If you opened a restaurant on the East Side or picked up a hooker in a Park Avenue hotel you put money in Paul Castellano’s pocket. If you tried to do these things without giving “Big Paulie” his share, you put your life at risk. His negotiable currency was bullets. His executive staff was known for its ability to arrange a multimillion-dollar merger in a thirty-second conference in a Seventh Avenue alley.
    Castellano savored his position and encouraged his image as a successful businessman. He was soft-spoken and gentlemanly in manner and read The Wall Street Journal every day. In fact, he invested much of his illicit earnings in legitimate businesses and watched the movements of those businesses with great interest.
    But to Joe Coffey, Paul Castellano was a piece of trash lying in the street waiting for the sweeper to flush him down the sewer. He did not fear the godfather nor would he be intimidated by him.
    â€œThe gravy part of my assignment was getting the chance to sit face-to-face with scum like Castellano and Funzi Tieri and not have anyone think I was trying to make some kind of corrupt deal with them. Everyone on both sides of the law knew I was out to put him and the others like him behind bars.”
    Smiling and totally relaxed, Joe pushed past the doorman and opened the door to the storefront social club. The doorman, who saw him pull up in the unmarked car and made him for a cop right away, had already alerted the group inside.
    A dozen button men were playing cards and nursing their midday Johnny Walker Red’s and water. They appeared to be a peaceful group of unemployed laborers waiting around the union hall for their next job.
    There was a moment of tension as the assembled hoods shot icy stares at Coffey standing in the doorway. There was no thought of interfering. These were men who did bloody work. They could sense fear in an adversary and knew how to exploit it. But Joe Coffey was not afraid. The message he sent out was, “I’m willing to be polite but I think you’re all pieces of shit so don’t push me.”
    The tension was broken when Joe Delmonico, one of Castellano’s personal henchmen, put down his cards and rose to greet Joe. “Coffey, what do you want here?” he asked as he extended his handshake.
    Joe ignored the offered hand and replied simply that he wanted “to sit down with Paul.”
    Delmonico told him to stay where he was and disappeared into the rear of the club.
    For about five minutes Coffey stood alone just inside the doorway. Nobody offered him a drink, no card hands were played, not a word was uttered. Again, he was grateful McDarby and McGlynn were waiting in the car outside with Cahill. If things turned bad, he knew they would handle their end. They would watch his back.
    He also knew that when word got out that he had been alone in Castellano’s hangout for more than ten minutes, detectives from the Internal Affairs Division would be questioning his men about what went on. “Was Coffey putting the squeeze on Castellano?” they would ask. He knew