In the 1960s, future Genovese crime family boss Vincent “Chin” Gigante was known on the streets as a feared and vicious killer. An FBI informant described him in stark terms, saying Gigante was a cold-blooded, ruthless killer and that when he looked at you, it was like death staring you in the face. On September 16, 1967, 23-year-old Ralph Rispulo was shot to death inside a social club on Kenmare Street in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Police reported that Rispulo was hit seven times with a small-caliber weapon in the bathroom of the Rio Grande Social Club.
He staggered out, collapsed on the street, and died four hours later at Beekman Downtown Hospital. FBI files would later reveal that Gigante was extremely fond of Rispulo and enraged by his murder. One informant told the FBI that Rispulo was highly thought of by Gigante and that Gigante had asked for the killer’s head. The informant stated that revenge would undoubtedly be exacted in the near future.
The same informant claimed the newspapers had the account of the murder completely wrong. The informant said the killer was the son of an individual known only by a redacted name, and that he would be able to learn the killer’s identity within the week. Whether Gigante ever carried out that retribution remains unclear, as no further information on the outcome of the situation has been found. In another incident from the 1960s, Gigante warned a mobster named Vincent “Jimmy Red” Caserta.
Caserta, who was allegedly in the crew of powerful Genovese captain Pete DeFeo and out on bail while appealing a murder conviction, had recently beaten his wife and was facing divorce proceedings. Caserta had reportedly threatened an unidentified man from the Greenwich Village area described as a “fat chunky kid” who was Gigante’s godchild. Gigante sent word to Caserta that he would “put him in a basket” if he laid a hand on his godchild. Despite Gigante’s fearsome reputation, there were occasions when people tried to cross him.
In 1968, an individual stole money from Gigante and fled. An FBI file from January 1968 noted that an informant had heard the man went south with $26,000 of Gigante’s money. The man had been associated with Gigante in a gambling operation and fled with funds entrusted to him. The informant said the man would probably be killed if located.
Mob historian and former journalist Larry McShane, author of the book “Chin: The Life and Crimes of Mafia Boss Vincent Gigante,” discussed the mobster’s 1960s-era connections. Gigante was friendly with Morris Levy, a well-known record producer heavily involved with the mob. Levy became notorious for signing new artists, taking their money, and sending them on their way. Tommy James of Tommy James and the Shondells wrote a memoir describing how Levy, despite the band’s many hits, had left them with nothing.
Levy and his associates were so brazen they even got into a dispute with John Lennon over recording rights following the Beatles’ breakup. Lennon defended himself in court against Levy, and that case worked out in Lennon’s favor. McShane explained that Gigante did not run any music industry operations, as Levy handled those and paid the mob. Gigante would simply pop in or stop by.
He had little to do with the operation, and McShane noted it was unclear whether Gigante even made money from it, though he assumed that at some point everything gets kicked up the chain. McShane also weighed in on the 1972 murder of Genovese acting boss Thomas Eboli. While a myth circulated that Carlo Gambino ordered the hit, McShane indicated that Eboli was most likely murdered due to an internal power struggle within the Genovese family. Eboli’s son also believed his father was killed for pushing too many boundaries as acting boss.
The 1970s were a gray area for the Genovese family. Vincent “Fish” Cafaro testified that Benny “Squint” Lombardo was running things throughout the decade, while others said it was someone else. Both men suffered from ill health and stepped down at different times. Most accounts place Gigante taking over around 1981, when Lombardo stepped down.
McShane also discussed interviewing Gigante’s brother, a priest, for his book. They met at a pastry shop in Greenwich Village and talked for 45 minutes to an hour. The priest was cordial and discussed growing up with his brother and how he assisted him, though not in committing crimes.
The priest was frequently photographed walking Gigante out of court appearances, and he was present on the day Gigante finally acknowledged in court that his famous “crazy act” had been a sham.