Cosa Nostra

The Sicilian Mafia, also simply known as the Mafia and frequently referred to as Cosa Nostra by its members, is an Italian, Mafia-terrorist-type, organized crime syndicate and criminal society originating in the region of Sicily, dating to the 19th century. It is a loose association of criminal groups that share a common organisational structure and code of conduct. The basic group is known as a "family", "clan", or cosca. Each family claims sovereignty over a territory, usually a town or village or a neighbourhood (borgata) of a larger city, in which it operates its rackets. Its members call themselves "men of honour", although the public often refers to them as mafiosi. The Mafia's core activities are protection racketeering, the arbitration of disputes between criminals, and the organizing and oversight of illegal agreements and transactions. By the 20th century, following wide-scale emigration from Sicily, the organization acquired a strong presence in

Societa per Azioni (S.p.A or SPA)

A form of corporation in Italy, meaning "company with shares" (although often translated as "joint-stock company", which may or may not be a limited liability entity). It is more or less equivalent to S.A. or public limited company in other countries.

Part 1 | Pizzo

Lincoln Heights

The Italian colony of Lincoln Heights had long established in the city.  While located north of downtown and far east of Hollywood, the neighborhood was one of the few places italians had gathered on the west coast.  The population out west was far smaller than large cities on the east coast in New York, Chicago & Philadelphia.  However, there were enough Italians to provide a recruitment pool amongst the crews operating in Los Angeles as well as provide a stable network of businesses.  

In Palermo, the various mafia families controlled neighborhoods such as Porta Nuova, Acquasanta, Arenella, San Lorenzo, Tomasso Natale, Brancaccio, Paliarelli, Uditore and Passo di Rigano - just to name a few.  Collection of the pizzo meant more than money.  After all, the term pizzo means to wet one's beak.  In sicilian "fari vagnari u pizzu" means to pay protection money.  Cosa Nostra believes that these territories belong to them, much like a feudal lord.  

Collecting the pizzo affirms that Cosa Nostra has control over the territory as the true authority.  This is the true power of the Mafia.  Guns and shooters come and go, but to truly establish themselves in society and infiltrate the legitimate market is what separates Cosa Nostra from any simple gang.  In Los Angeles, there had not been a major influence of extortion imposed.  Before prohibition, various small time black hand gangs had sprung up with minor attempts - but none were power enough to extract any payment from the businesses.  

Earlier in the week, Salvatore had strolled through the the neighborhood.  Discovering various businesses, such as Pasquale Ristorrante, Franco's Italian Delicatessan, Caffe Palermo and others that lined the streets of this enclave, all were ripe for the picking.  Upon visiting some of these establishments, he had realized there was a rival occupying the neighborhood who went by the name of "Turri" Angelino.  Turri was also from Sicily but was not a "friend of ours" in Cosa Nostra.  As a result, he was of no importance to Salvatore or his compaesani.  

Salvatore's rival had suddenly become the competitor of Turri in the payment of protection.  Stealing 50% of the business in the area, Salvatore made a major impact on his rival's wallet.  

While placing the finishing touches on his Hollywood bakery, Salvatore was confronted by Turridu.  A few threatening words and a swift punch to the face would leave Salvatore stunned.  His employees and some of his friends had seen what happened.  The response from Turri was a direct challenge to Salvatore's authority. 

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One week later, Turri sat at Pasquale Ristorante sipping on a glass of red wine, with an assortment of charcutterie in front of him.  The California sunset was just beginning to set in with a beautiful cascade of colors along the skyline in the distance, filled with an assortment of palm trees lining the streets.  Turri was oblivious to what was taking place around him.  As he poured himself a second glass of wine, the pedestrians nearby noticed a figure dressed in a black trench coat with a baklava type mask covering his face step out from a nearby alley and into view.  Gripped in his right hand was a silver S&W revolver loaded with .44 special rounds.

Aside from the intimidating and suspicious utilized by Salvatore, the silver revolver is what innocent eyes would be brought on next.  

As Turridu lifted his wine glass again, his own eyes would observe people start vacating their seats, running into the distance.  By the time he was able to comprehend what might be happening, it would be too late. 

POP..........POP POP POP...........POP POP.....................................................................................................................

The shooter would point the gun behind Turri's head and pull the trigger.  An initial round would pierce the man's skull.  The impact from the round would force the man's head and torso forward.  A follow up of three additional rounds would pierce his back, sending him to the cement ground below.  Red wine and a shattered wine glass would spill out in front of him.  A final two shots into the torso would finish the job.  Blood would spill out of the body, mixing in with the wine.  Turri's lifeless body splattered on the pavement demonstrated the changing of the guard within the neighborhood.  

By this time, the shooter had fled on foot nearby, and was later picked up by a wheelman - part of the hit crew waiting in the background in the event things had made a turn for the worst.  The stolen smith and wesson revolver, disposed of in the ocean off of a pier in Santa Monica.  

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Salvatore strolled through the neighborhood the next day with his entourage of men.  Paying a visit to each business, he was greeted with a kiss on the cheek and a wad of cash from each business owner.  Not much, $500 a piece was all he needed.  A little here and there, but enough to let everyone know he was the new power in the neighborhood.  This would be the way things worked every month from now on.

Part 2 | Usury 

Hollywood - Los Angeles, California

Usury 

1. the lending or practice of lending money at an exorbitant interest.

2. an exorbitant amount or rate of interest, especially in excess of the legal rate.

<font size="1">Salvatore was seated at the local Caffe Palermo, sipping on a usual espresso in the middle of the afternoon.  He and his crew, which consisted of a number of "Zips", or Mafiosi from Sicily, sat speaking in the dialect about the current situation in Italy.  Mussolini had been in power for a few years now, and the Iron Prefect, Cesar Mori was cracking down on the various Mafia families in Sicily.  Palermo, the headquarters of Cosa Nostra was under enormous pressure and many of the men of honour were going into hiding.  </font>

It wasn't long after this, that Pietro Lanza, a local business owner - in charge of a concrete company in Los Angeles, approached Salvatore.

"Salvatore...I apologize to interrupt your discussion, but if I could please have a moment of your time?"

Salvtore excused himself from his amici and strolled down the block, listening intently to Pietro's please for assistance.

"I have no money to pay the bills.  I have two bastard jobs that went completely wrong.  I lost $300,000 last week to Gordon Ramsay's sports book and now, I can't pay anything back.  I'm so fucked!  All ah' his guys have been coming to shake me down."  

"Gordon Ramsay is a top guy in this city...the fuck did you think would happen if you didn't pay?" asked Sal.  Sal had recently received his button.  But Gordon was high up on the totem poll, so he had to be very careful on how to navigate the situation.

"Look...I got a head of myself.  I've always settled up with the book...I just....I don't know it's just gotten too far ahead of me this time.  Is there anything you can do Sal?!" begged the panicking business man.

Sal stared intently into the distance, with a few things in mind with his right thumb and index finger gently scratching against his chin.  

"Alright...so here's the deal.  I'll settled up with Gordon on your behalf.  Let me handle this and I'll straighten things out for you, okay?  You may have to work with me after...but we will get things settled."

The two shook hands and Pietro paid his respects to Salvatore with a kiss on each cheek.  A custom dating back to all over Europe, especially in the Mezzogiorno.

Salvatore made his way over to one of his men, whispered into his ear and sat back down as the underling swiftly ran off.  An arrangement had been made with Gianna, his crew leader, to have a sit down with Gordon in an attempt to settle any disputes in the matter.

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Pasadena, California

Salvatore's car arrived at the estate belonging to high ranking mafioso, Gordon Ramsay.  Sal was greeted by two men, heavily armed outside of the estate.  Their cold piercing eyes stared through Salvatore.  The iron gates slid open, the vehicle barrier lowered.  Sal was clear to enter.  The pristine estate, adorned with lush green grass - suitable for a golf course greeted Sal as he made his way down the long driveway.  After parking, he was greeted by one of Gordon's underlings, and taken out back to where he found Gordon sipping on tea after finishing a round of golf.  

Gordon wasn't dressed like the typical gangster.  He very much resembled the "high mafia" that was become ever more prevalent in Sicily.  Gordon associated with bankers, politicians, celebrities.  There wasn't a week that went by when lavish parties were hosted.  However, it was very well known throughout Los Angeles, that this was all a smoke screen.  On the outside, Gordon played the role of a successful businessman.  But in this secret criminal society, Gordon was as ruthless as they come.  He was in charge of one of the largest sportsbooks in southern California and was a major proponent of drug trafficking.  His influence stretched far south of LA ant into San Diego and Tijuana, Mexico, where he worked with mexican groups to smuggle in marijuana from the Sinaloa valley.

"Sal!  Good to see you, brother."  shouted the Don as he approached Sal.  As customary, Sal greeted Gordon with the utmost respect. 

"It's a pleasure...thank you again for having me...I've also brought you this." Sal presented a $500 bottle of Syrah, a red wine from Sicily.  The two then made their way over to the outdoor table.

"So what brings you around this part of town, Sal?"

Sal took a deep breath and responded, knowing this was about to be a serious discussion.

"Pietro Lanza" he responded shortly.

Gordon's face when from an inviting smile to a serious and cold stare.  "The fuck do you have to do with him?  That piece of shit owes me over three hundred grand on my book.  And that piece of shit is going to pay every god damn cent of it too!  This isn't the first time either...."

"So I know this has to be frustrating for you, Gordon.  But I came here with an offer to take the pains of this man off of your plate...I'll pay his debt to you and clean his slate.  A man like you shouldn't have to deal with low lifes like Pietro."

Gordon smirked.  "Alright you cheeky bastard.  I'll accept that." 

"Thank you Gordon.  You won't regret it..."

The two parted ways and the next day, bags of money were delivered - a total of $300,000 in $20, $50 and $100 bills.  In total:

$100,000 in $20 denominations - total of 6,000 notes

$100,000 in $50 denominations - total of 2,000 notes

$100,000 in $100 denominations - total of 1,000 notes.

All of the money was handed over to Gordon, with the debt cleared from the sportsbook.  Salvatore officially owned Pietro.

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Hollywood

Southland Concrete Inc. was a vibrant business with contracts to lay the foundation for an elementary school in Inglewood.  Other contracts from the company included a new development under way in Compton and another for the Crystal Gardens public housing development in South Central, Los Angeles.

Pietro was working in his office, taking care of the weekly payroll, when he lifted his head up and was startled to find Salvatore in his office with two other Mediterranean looking men who were built like boxers and ready to to fight at the drop of a hat.

"Sal!  Hey!  How are you?"

Sal smiled.  "I'm doing well.  I've got some good news! Your debt to Gordon has been paid."

"That's fantastic!  Oh thank you so much, Salvatore.  I won't ever forget this!"

Sal's smirk turned to a serious tone.  "But now, you owe me $300,000.  And I want 2 points a week.  That means I want six grand minimum every time I come to see you.  If you miss a payment, that's tacked on to the interest.  Anything more than the minimum, I tack on to the principal.  I expect full payments EVERY fucking week....don't fuck with me, Pete...understand?"

Pietro turned pale.  His forehead glistened from the perspiration as a result of the added pressure and the realization ihe was now indebted to the Mafia.  

"Yes.....yes Sal.  I promise, I'll pay you."

To be continued...