Natasha stepped forward to tell the tale from recent events. She was not sure what to think about it and perhaps she would even find some answers from this predicament...

"The news of Jimmy falling hit JoeLigambi hard, like a physical blow. Jimmy was his right-hand man in crime, his brother in all but blood and he was gunned down in a back alley by Katerina as he waited for protection. Joe had seen a lot of bloodshed in his life, but Jimmy's death left a gaping wound. It was a wound that festered, twisting his grief into a strange unshakeable conviction. Jimmy's son, JimmyLigambi, a quiet but intense young man who had recently returned to the fold, was not truly Jimmy's heir.

Joe, usually meticulous and usually double-checking every detail, had been distracted. His mind still reeling from Jimmy's death and the strange comfort he found in his son's presence. The sum of $250,000,000 was supposed to be going to a party neutral to the recent conflict, but instead through a series of inexplicable keystrokes, the colossal sum of money vanished into the accounts of the their most bitter enemy. 

A cold dread settled in Joe's gut as Joe realized his critical error. Two hundred and fifty million dollars gone. To the Pink Pony Club. 

With this money, the Pink Pony Club and its allies continued their brutal offensive. One by one, more of JoeLigambi's friends began to fall. Some were targeting directly by Katerina, others just surrendered completely. After some time, the whispers had started. 'Was it truly an accident'? How could someone like JoeLigambi, a man known for his sharp mind, and strategic cunningness, make such a monumental blunder? Many people started to think if this was a deliberate act, a twisted, self-destructive move by a man who had lost too much."

Natasha pauses for a brief moment as many on-goers stop and listen.

"What does the streets think? Did JoeLigambi send money away to his combaters on purpose? Did he want to see his 'friends' fall? Surely no one makes the dumb fucking mistaking of sending TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILLION to their enemy by 'accident'..."

My ancestors had worked with JoeLigambi's ancestors in the past. As you said, he was smart, sharp, cunning.

He never shot during an initial volley too early causing an entire group of hitters to scramble out of their hiding places half cocked. He is not the type of man to take heat for a third time without realizing how long he'd be imprisoned for during a battle of attrition where all guns counted, and he is CERTAINLY not the type of guy to send money to an enemy to buy a casino only to have that enemy turn on him later.

No. We're talking the cream of the crop here, and as a result there is only one solution to this quandary.

HuffinDuster paces back and forth

Uncle Joe was working for The Pink Pony Club the whole time.

Huffin stops and stares at the gathering of mafioso

It started innocently. He was having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee where he was born. He finally made the move, he lived nearby The Pink Pony Club and showed up on occasion. Soon he was dancing at The Pink Pony Club. One night a week, no harm. Soon the frequency increased. Once his family found out they screamed "God! What have you done? You're a Pink Pony Girl!" but Joe decided he was gonna' keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club, unbeknownst to his associates and allies.

I purport what we have here is an intentional wire to assist the club that accepted him when no one else would.

He smiles, claps and buttons his jacket as he stands. 

A very interesting story. I suppose the easiest way to answer any questions in regards to the subject would be to speak to the man himself, right? I'd love to hear what his side of this story is and what were the expected outcomes of such a bold decision. Though, getting the true story would be potentially embarrassing if as you put it, "distracted" was his current state of mind. We may never actually know the truth of it all. I know what I believe and hopefully that'll be enough for me. 

TonyTheTailor leaned back in his busted office chair, chewing the end of a cigar he never intended to light. He’d heard Natasha’s little fireside tragedy echo through the streets like a bootleg radio play and figured, what the hell, may as well add his two cents, store credit only.

“Two hundred and fifty million... vanished... just like that? Into the accounts of the Pink Pony Club, no less? Call me jaded, but I’ve heard more believable stories from the guy who sells pigeons dressed as doves for weddings.”

He shook his head, mock solemn.

“Now listen, I ain't saying JoeLigambi clicked the wrong button on purpose. I’m sure it was just grief, y’know? Real deep, tragic, cinematic stuff. Man loses his best friend, then immediately wires a quarter of a billion to the people actively trying to ruin his life. Happens all the time, right?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, sarcasm practically dripping.

“But through the grapevine, and this is just what I heard, some folks are whispering this whole thing was orchestrated. A play. A production. Maybe even a sacrifice. Hell, maybe Joe was received long before Jimmy got clipped. Maybe he wasn’t distracted at all, maybe he was just following instructions.”

He smirked, shrugging with the kind of lazy charm only someone who pressed silk collars and stitched secrets for a living could pull off.

“All I’m sayin’ is, if this was truly an accident, then I’m the Pope’s tailor. And if it wasn’t, then someone out there just pulled off the cleanest inside job this thing of ours has seen in years.”

Tony flicked a bit of lint off his lapel like the matter was settled.

“Either way, I hope someone kept the receipt.”