Ferrante - Unlocked

Part I
The Streets

Part II
The Investigation

Part III
Prison

Two guards led me into the federal lockup in Brooklyns

I was pretty sure the feds needed another witness to

The law was trying to flip me by way of

Italians sometimes call prison college.

The detention center had religious services. Every Sunday was a

In the early nineties, Vito Petina was a powerful capo

On Super Bowl Sunday, the warden treated prisoners to pizza

There were three wall phones in the dorm. Hispanics claimed

My federal judge handed me a five-year sentence for the

After Ricky and Cheech had gone bad I was reindicted

Our only contact with the outside world was in the

Howd you control em?

I hired a new attorney.

After Mario got away with beating the rape-o over the

Before long, prison officials knew every inmate involved in the

I wasnt charged with assaulting an officer, never saw a

When Camposs gravy train derailed, and our lawyers werent exactly

Id been reading about a year when something strange came

Shakedown.

For a long time, the best plea federal prosecutors offered

Two weeks before I was arrested and put in jail,

I stood with him in my cell.

The Aryan Brotherhood is the most violent and feared gang

Lockdown ended slowly. After a couple of months, the warden

After lockdown, all inmates were ordered to work full-time. I

In the pen, sex is an extension of violencethe

The prison made high school dropouts get a GED. My

I was walking with Jimmy Doyle in the yard when

Imagine coming home from work at the end of a

The night before my transfer a hack leaned into my

A few hours later I arrived at Otisville, a medium-security

I went to the yard to walk off lunch, and

The Italians showed me around Otisvilletennis courts, bocce courts,

Over the years, family and friends sent me hundreds of

Reading and contemplation helped me to understand the world. I

Richard Messina was a corporate attorney with an education from

Sometimes I felt like a higher court had passed judgment

As I flipped through the radio one night, I came

I went through seven attorneys, all bums. Nearly every one

Thomas Pizzuto was serving a ninety-day sentence in Nassau County

I spent several months in Nassau County Jail before I

I was assigned a cell. I told a hack, My

I wasnt in the prison long when I received news

In the feds, lifers die in jail, theres no parole.

Even after I finished my novel, I kept writing. I

One night, I tuned in to a lecture on public

I was chained to Slim on the bus ride from

I lived in C Block.

After two more years of study, I received a letter

I was required to attend a two-hour class to help

I was feeding a squirrel on my windowsill when the

One day I was in a cell, the next day

T he story of my criminal life is well documented, due to the diligent efforts of law enforcement and meticulous filing of FBI documents. Government informants and criminal court records also constitute a wealth of material.

The following is my story, told by me. The names and certain identifying facts have been changed to protect the innocent, and conceal the guilty. Any similarities are unintended.

I leaned down, dropped a knee into his chest, and pressed my gun into his forehead right between the eyes.

Dont kill me, I have a wife and kid.

Do what I say an youll see em again.

He was large, big-boned, had a red beard, like a lumberjack. He was six inches away from death, the length of my gun barrel. If he flipped out, or my finger twitched, Id have a dead body under me.

Its a robbery. I want your truck, not your life.

No! he screamed. I dont wanna die!

He knocked the back of his head against the metal floor and swung his meaty arms, batting at the gun. His knuckles grazed my chin. I pushed his arms away, then jammed the barrel of the gun into his mouth. You dont wanna die, huh? Then shut the fuck up!

He shook his head. His teeth scraped against the steel, his lips sealed around the muzzle. He had to taste the weapon to know he didnt like it.

I let the steel sit between his teeth. When I pulled the gun back, he looked disappointed. The gun controlled him. He didnt trust himself to behave without it. I think he wanted me to shove it back in his mouth, to save his life.

Turn over.

Dontshootme, he gasped. His coffee breath blasted me in the face. He was afraid to turn over, afraid Id finish him off execution style.

Do as I say an youll be home for dinner.

He twisted his broad shoulders in the cramped aisle, squeezing his eyes shut.

Once he was on his stomach, I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

His wide back stretched his Snearco Tool shirt as he wrapped his hands around the back of his head. I didnt tell him to do this; either hed seen it on TV or was shielding himself from a bullet.

Put em behine your back, I said. An press your wrists together.

I placed my gun on a shelf against the wall. I spun the tape around his wrists, then tore it with my teeth.

He let out a long breath and lay still. He wanted to live.

I lifted his head off the floor by his hair, taped his mouth, then gently lowered his head to the side so he wouldnt crush his nose.

About an hour before I grabbed this guy, my crew and I had parked on a street lined with auto body shops. We smoked cigarettes and told jokes until this poor stiff swung his tool truck up onto the curb and parked.

His sliding passenger door was open, like most delivery trucks during the summer.

I got this, I said to my friends as I jumped out of the car.

I felt a rush of adrenaline. The driver was alone, busy with paperwork when I climbed the steps on the passenger side.

Can I take a look around, I wanna buy some tools.

He was startled at first, but quickly relaxed, probably hoped to open a new account.

Sure, he said.

I looked down the narrow walkway. Giant toolboxes weighing a ton and standing as high as my chest sat along the walls. On the racks above me were ratchets, screwdrivers, hammers, and wrenches. The toolboxes were worth five to ten grand apiece; everything in the truck was worth over a hundred.

I pointed to tools, asked some prices.

When he looked away for a second, I whipped out a big bright .357 Magnum and pointed it at his head.

I dont know if he fell to the floor before or after I ordered him to lie down, but I stood over him as he looked up at me.

After I taped him up, I went to the doorway of the truck and waved to my friends, then went back to work.