Final Confession (16 page)

Angiulo swore to Irish that there was no contract out on any of the Crestas. He said there had been a slight misunderstanding, but now everything was squared. Indeed, Boston's boss did back off the Cresta brothers.

Billy spent the next thirty years living mostly in Miami, visiting Boston annually for a few months. When in the Boston area, he stayed at his Medford home.

Phil never spoke to Jerry Angiulo, his former boss, again.

I
T WASN'T LONG
before Phil's life was back to normal. A couple of days after Thanksgiving in 1967 Phil, Angelo, and Tony met at Angelo's house in Braintree and talked about working again. “We were all very much on the same page that night at Angelo's house. We hadn't pulled a score since the hospital robbery, which was sixteen months before. The novelty of doing nothing had long since worn off, and we were all itchy to get back in action. We still had a great deal of money stashed away, but this wasn't about the money,” Phil recounted.

They put out the word that the Cresta crew was back in action, and within days the tips began to pour into McGrail's.

“We pulled three small scores, just to get back in shape. We wanted to start small. By the time the new year rolled around, we'd made over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and we put the word out that we were looking for a big score.”

A few days into the new year an old friend named Edward McAleney came calling. Phil knew McAleney from Walpole. He remembered him as a stand-up guy who was trustworthy. McAleney proposed a score in Lynn.

The job seemed easy enough to Phil, but something about McAleney was bothering him. “McAleney was drinking way too
much. He wasn't the same guy I remembered. I didn't like dealing with people who were into drugs or alcohol.” But Phil listened.

The idea McAleney offered called for Phil, Angelo, Tony, one of McAleney's associates named Michael Reddy, and McAleney himself to enter the Kay Jewelers store in Lynn on an upcoming Sunday, when the store would be closed. Phil asked why McAleney needed so many bodies just to hit one store.

He needed Phil and Angelo to bypass the alarms and open the vault, McAleney explained. He needed Reddy to drive. It would be quicker if McAleney and Tony cleaned out the jewelry displays while Phil and Angelo were opening the walk-in vault, which contained the more valuable jewels.

Phil didn't like the plan. “I knew I should've just walked away from McAleney, but Tony and Angelo were set on a big score, so against my better judgment I went along. I did ask McAleney why we needed Reddy, since I didn't know him and there was no better getaway driver than Tony. What I really meant was, why did we need McAleney? We were used to being given the score, pulling it off ourselves, and giving our informant a split. I would've had no problem with the McAleney I knew in the can, but this was a different guy—a weaker guy. I never liked working with freelancers anyway, unless absolutely necessary, and that job and that guy McAleney weren't necessary by a long shot,” Phil recalled.

The Kay Jewelers job was scheduled to coincide with the 1968 Super Bowl Game, which, that year, was held in midafternoon and was between the Green Bay Packers and the Oakland Raiders. McAleney felt, and rightly so, that the majority of Lynn residents would be sitting in front of a television set as Phil and Angelo stood in front of the walk-in vault in the basement of Kay Jewelers. At exactly 4:00
P.M
. on Sunday, January 14, 1968, Phil Cresta, dressed in the uniform of an ADT alarm mechanic, headed down an alley that bordered the jewelry store. It took him only a few seconds to disarm the alarm and a few more to pick the back-door lock. Once inside, he and Angelo immediately
headed down to the basement and to the vault. The other two persons outfitted as ADT alarm mechanics, Tony and Ed McAleney, headed to the jewelry displays on the first floor. Phil knew they had four to five minutes until the alarm malfunction was discovered by the police and the ADT alarm company. Phil took one look at the old vault and grinned. It would be a piece of cake. “I had opened hundreds of boxes like it. I told Angelo to place our equipment on the floor and check on the other two guys upstairs.”

As Angelo started upstairs, he heard a commotion above. “I was too focused on getting into the vault,” Phil remembered. “I didn't know anything was going on until Angelo came back and said, ‘Phil, we've got problems.' I looked at my watch. We'd been in the building only a minute or so. I knew it was impossible for anyone to respond to an alarm malfunction that soon.”

The noise upstairs got louder. Phil and Angelo both knew they had only a few seconds to do something before whoever it was who was up there came down. “I thought some wise guys were muscling in on our score and we'd have to fight our way out. I never for a second thought it was the cops.”

Phil and Angelo hid behind some boxes. Less than a minute later, the lights went on and a voice announced that Lynn Police wanted them to come upstairs. “In the dark, I couldn't see Angelo, but I could hear him breathing. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was: if this was really the cops, let them show themselves. We weren't volunteering.” When Phil heard Tony's unmistakable voice, he felt better. If Tony was still alive, chances were it wasn't wise guys muscling in.

A few minutes went by and the sound of police sirens and static-filled radio broadcasts proved that the guys upstairs were in fact police. “It was actually a relief in a way,” Phil said. “Shit, nobody likes to get busted, but the alternative was much worse. Wise guys shoot to kill.”

The cops had the upper floor; Cresta and Angelo were trapped in the basement. They again heard the order to come
up. After another minute or so, Phil told Angelo, “Ready to take the pinch? Let's go, I think we'll be all right.”

Phil yelled out that they were coming upstairs and that they had no weapons. He led the way up.

What looked like the entire police department of Lynn was waiting. This was a big bust for them and they were all ready to take some credit, especially when the TV cameras arrived. Phil watched as Tony was put into a police car with McAleney, handcuffed and looking pretty depressed. “We got set up,” Phil whispered to Angelo. Angelo barked back, “No shit!”

They were transported to the Lynn police station, where they were fingerprinted and booked. The police had arrived so soon and in such numbers that they had even caught Reddy outside in his getaway car. Phil, Angelo, Tony, McAleney, and Reddy were all held overnight in the station lockup.

Phil was livid as he was fingerprinted and booked. The minute he was alone with McAleney and Reddy he exploded. “McAleney, what the fuck
was
that?” Phil yelled. “They knew where we were and what time we were coming in. They knew more about the job than we did. Who the fuck did you talk to?”

McAleney, who desperately needed a drink, just shook his head. “Phil, I don't know how they knew. I didn't tell anyone about the job, I swear,” he cried.

“Fuck you, McAleney, you told someone and that someone set us up. Now I want you to sit there and think. Don't say another fucking word until you come up with a name. Do you understand?”

McAleney put his head in his hands and began to cry.

“Real tough guy we got there, Phil. What the fuck were we thinking?” Angelo asked.

“That's just it, we weren't,” Phil shot back.

For the next two hours they sat in their cells alone with their thoughts. Tony was the only one who slept that night. “Tony could sleep through an atomic bomb,” Phil noted later, laughing.

On Monday morning, January 15, 1968, the
Boston Globe
ran half a dozen stories on the Super Bowl and how Vince
Lombardi's Green Bay Packers slaughtered the Oakland Raiders 33 to 14. There was also a much smaller story detailing how five alleged burglars had been caught inside Kay Jewelers in Lynn.

That same morning they were transported to Lynn District Court, where they were arraigned. They were charged with breaking and entering in the daytime, robbery, and possession of burglarious tools. Then they were released on bail.

As soon as they hit the street, Phil turned to McAleney and said, “I want to see you tonight at McGrail's at seven. You got that?” McAleney just nodded and jumped into a cab. Phil was intent on finding out who had set them up.

That night at McGrail's, Cresta grilled McAleney. “Who knew about the job?” he asked. “Nobody,” McAleney replied. “That's bullshit,” Phil said emphatically. “I've been in this business long enough to know when I've been set up.” Phil continued the grilling for another hour but he was getting nowhere. Then Phil noticed that the more McAleney drank, the more talkative he became. So Phil tried a different approach.

“Where do you drink?” he asked McAleney. By the time McAleney got through naming all the bars he frequented, Phil said mockingly to Angelo, “I should've asked him to name the bars he
doesn't
drink in.” Phil was watching Angelo out of the corner of his eye as McAleney rattled off the names of his watering holes. When he finished, Angelo asked Phil, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Phil was more than happy to get away from McAleney.

Outside, Phil asked, “Whadda ya got?” Angelo showed him a napkin from the Brown Jug and said, “Phil, he told us about every bar in Boston except this one.” “So?” “I frisked his coat while he was talking, and found this in it.” “And?” “Phil, Tony and I have been there lots of times … with Ben Tilley. The Brown Jug's Tilley's hangout.” Phil snarled, “You gotta be shittin' me!” and stormed back into McGrail's.

McAleney was chasing his beer with a shot of Old Thompson. “Ed, do you know a guy named Ben Tilley?” Phil asked in an over-innocent tone. “Sure, everyone knows Tilley.” McAleney's words were slurred now. “When was the last time you talked to
him?” Phil asked, pushing for what he needed to know. McAleney thought for a minute and then said, “Two weeks ago at the Brown Jug.” “This is very important now,” Phil stressed. “Did you mention anything to Tilley about the Kay Jewelers job?” “Absolutely not,” McAleney answered indignantly. “Are you positive?” Phil asked again. “Absolutely,” McAleney was defiant now. “Okay, screw,” Phil commanded. “But stay by your phone in case I need to talk to you.” “Sure, Phil,” McAleney said, and he hurriedly left the Kilmarnock Street bar.

Phil waited until McAleney was out of sight and then quickly turned to Angelo and said, “Get Tony over here.” Angelo could tell by the tone of Phil's voice that he had better not question why Tony was wanted. Angelo used the pay phone at the end of the bar and dialed Tony's home number.

Phil and Angelo were sitting in their favorite booth, against the back wall facing the door, when Tony came charging in. “Relax, Tony, we're not in a gang fight,” Phil said, laughing for the first time that night. “Whadda ya gut, whadda ya gut?” Tony asked. “We gutta take a little ride,” Phil said, imitating Tony's diction. Tony was clearly puzzled. In wise-guy terminology, “being sent for” is a serious thing. It usually means there's been trouble and someone's going to get whacked.

Phil saw how anxious Tony was and he quickly moved to dispel his fears. “Don't worry, Tone, nobody's gonna get whacked. We just have a little business to attend to in Mattapan, and I wanted you with us,” Phil said.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Okay, Phil. … There's a great spuckie shop on Blue Hill Ave. Can we stop there for a minute?”

“Unbelievable,” Angelo whispered to himself.

The three of them rode down Blue Hill Avenue until they saw the Brown Jug, located in Mattapan Square. “Who are we looking for?” Tony asked. “Information. Do either of you know any of the bartenders here?” Phil asked. Angelo pointed to Tony. “He knows everybody.” They parked and entered the crowded bar.

The three men sat at the end of the bar and ordered a round of drinks. Phil asked Tony what he knew about the bartender on duty. Tony told him. The guy was from Lower Mills and his kid was a great football player at Boston College High School and—

“I don't need a family tree, all I want you to do is introduce me,” Phil said, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” whispered Angelo again.

Tony introduced Phil and Angelo to the bartender, and Phil began throwing huge tips at the guy, who, they found out, worked as a school custodian during the day. The later it got, the friendlier the bartender got. “Sorry about your pinch, Tony,” he eventually said. Before Tony could reply, Phil asked, “How did you know about that?” “I read about it in the paper this morning,” the bartender replied. “Of course,” Phil said, backing off.

Then the bartender said something that almost knocked Phil off his stool. “I was surprised when I read it. I thought it was just gonna be a break-and-take job,” the bartender said.

“What, you knew about the job before you read the paper this morning?” Phil asked incredulously.

“Yeah, we all knew it was going down while the Packers game was going on. Some guys in the bar even made jokes about it as we watched the game here on Sunday,” the bartender reported.

Phil couldn't believe what he was hearing. “What kind of jokes?” he asked.

“You know … like ‘I hope McAleney will be able to pay his bar bill now that he's robbing a jewelry store.' Stuff like that. And ‘Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin; you never go out the way you came in,' stuff like that.”

Phil's head was spinning. “You mean to tell me that people in this bar watching the game knew that McAleney was robbing that jewelry store at the same time?”

“Sure, we all knew,” the bartender said nonchalantly.

Phil held his breath and asked, “Was there a guy named Ben Tilley in here last Sunday?”

“How'd you know that? In fact, Tilley was the one making most of the jokes.”

“WHERE DOES
that piece of shit live?” Phil asked Angelo as the three left the Brown Jug, speaking of McAleney. Angelo replied, “Somerville.”

Twenty minutes later, Phil's car was parked in front of an old house badly in need of repair. “Are you sure this is the place?” Phil asked Angelo. “This is where I dropped him off,” Angelo replied. “Did you see him go in?” Phil asked. “I didn't have that much time. It took him two minutes just to stagger out of my car,” Angelo remembered. “How the fuck did we get hooked up with the likes of this guy?” Phil asked, ignoring the fact that it had been his own idea.