Vincent “Chin” Gigante, the future boss of the Genovese crime family, was known in his early years as a feared enforcer—and FBI informants described him as a cold-blooded killer whose stare felt like “death staring you in the face. ” Federal files from the 1960s show that when people crossed him, or harmed those close to him, he demanded violent retribution. In September 1967, 23-year-old Ralph Rispolo was shot seven times inside the bathroom of a social club on Kenmare Street in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. He staggered through the club, decorated with balloons and crepe paper for the San Gennaro festival, before collapsing on the street.
He died four hours later at Beekman Downtown Hospital, having been shot twice in the back, twice in the chest, twice in the left side, and once in the stomach. According to FBI files, Gigante was extremely fond of Rispolo and furious over his killing. An informant told the FBI that Rispolo was “very highly thought of by Chin Gigante” and that Gigante had “asked for the head of the killer. ” The informant added that the newspapers’ account of the murder was inaccurate and that revenge would “undoubtedly be exacted in the near future.
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The FBI believed they could learn the killer’s identity within a week, but no further outcome of the situation was ever documented in the available files. The informant reported that Rispolo had been murdered by the son of an individual whose name was redacted from the records. In a separate incident from the same period, Gigante reportedly threatened one of his own associates. Vincent “Jimmy Red” Caserta, a Genovese mobster in the crew of captain Pete DeFeo, was allegedly warned to stay away from Gigante’s godchild.
According to an FBI file, Caserta—who was out on bail while appealing a murder conviction—had been threatening the unidentified man from Greenwich Village. The file states that Gigante “sent word to Caserta that he will put him in a basket if he lays a hand on his godchild. ” The exact outcome of that threat was not recorded. Even with his fearsome reputation, there were those who tried to cross Gigante.
In 1968, an unnamed individual associated with Gigante in a gambling operation fled to the South with $26,000 of Gigante’s money. An informant told the FBI that the man “will probably be killed if located. ” Again, the files do not reveal what ultimately happened to him. Gigante’s connections in the 1960s extended beyond the streets.
Mob historian Larry McShane, author of “Chin: The Life and Crimes of Mafia Boss Vincent Gigante,” noted that Gigante was friendly with Morris Levy, a well-known record producer with deep mob ties. Levy was notorious for signing new artists, taking their money, and leaving them with nothing. Tommy James of Tommy James and the Shondells wrote a memoir detailing how Levy, despite the band’s many hits, left them with little to show for it. Levy was so brazen that he even clashed with John Lennon over recording rights to material Lennon had produced after the Beatles’ breakup.
Lennon defended himself in court and ultimately won the case. McShane said Gigante would stop by the music scene but did not run the operations—Levy handled that and paid tribute to the mob. Gigante would “pop in or stop by” and likely received a cut of the profits, though the arrangement was not formal. The conversation also touched on the 1972 murder of Tommy Eboli, a Genovese acting boss.
While a popular myth blamed Carlo Gambino for ordering the hit, McShane suggested it was more likely the result of an internal power struggle within the Genovese family. Eboli’s own son has written that his father pushed too many boundaries as acting boss, and the story that Eboli borrowed $4 million from Gambino for a drug deal does not hold up. The 1970s were a gray area for the Genovese family. Vincent “Fish” Cafaro testified that Benny “Squint” Lombardo ran the family through much of the decade, while others said it was someone else.
Due to health issues, the two stepped down at different times. Most sources place Gigante’s takeover at around 1981, when Lombardo stepped aside. Gigante’s brother, Father Louis Gigante, remained loyal to him until the end. McShane interviewed the priest for his book, meeting him at a pastry shop in Greenwich Village.
The priest spoke openly about growing up with his brother but did not try to excuse or explain away the criminal life. He was present the day Gigante finally appeared in Brooklyn federal court in 2003 and acknowledged that his years of feigning insanity had been an act.