When Jim Powers took over the Las Vegas FBI office in 1977, he inherited a department in disarray and a town of well-entrenched mobsters. He vowed to address both problems.
One of his primary targets was Gold Rush Ltd., a jewelry store/fencing operation near the Strip. The FBI's raid of the place set the table for the demise of its owner, mobster Tony Spilotro, and his Hole-in-the-Wall Gang.
James M. Powers, who later served as security chief for Steve Wynn's Golden Nugget and helped bring to justice the kidnappers of Wynn's daughter Kevyn in 1993, died Thursday in Las Vegas. He was 78.
"Jim was the best of what you would call Old Bureau FBI agents, those who had worked under J. Edgar Hoover," said former federal prosecutor Stan Hunterton, who is a local defense attorney. "He was disciplined and hardworking. Jim treated everyone with decency, and his integrity was above reproach."
Although Powers served just two years as special agent-in-charge of the Las Vegas FBI office, it was a pivotal time in Southern Nevada history - the beginning of the end of the mob's great influence on the region.
A year before Powers took the job, Spilotro had formed the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang with younger brother Michael Spilotro, boyhood chum Frank Culotta, Joey Cusumano, "Fat Herbie" Blitzstein, former Metro Police Detective Joe Blasko and others. The gang got its nickname by drilling through the walls of the buildings that it burglarized. Its headquarters was the Gold Rush - a block from the Strip - which also had opened in 1976.
Powers targeted the Gold Rush for a massive raid in which a large amount of evidence was gathered that helped lead to Spilotro's 1981 indictment on federal racketeering charges that eventually were dismissed. Spilotro was killed, presumably by mob associates, in 1986.
Born Oct. 4, 1928, in Springfield, Mass., Powers joined the Marine Corps in 1946 and served for two years. In 1953, he earned a bachelor of laws degree from Boston University School of Law. Powers joined the FBI in 1954, working in New York and Chicago before retiring in Las Vegas in 1979 and becoming vice president of corporate security for the Golden Nugget. He worked for Wynn until his retirement in the late 1990s.
Thanks to Ed Koch
Saturday, January 20, 2007
The "Big Guy" From Spilotro's Hole in the Wall Gang Dies
The late Tony Spilotro was the Chicago Outfit's fearless, brutal soldier in Las Vegas, who once tortured a man by putting his head in a vise and squeezing it until one of his eyes popped out. But even Spilotro was unnerved by one man -- a member of Spilotro's own Hole in the Wall Gang, -- Lawrence Neumann.
Long before Neumann joined
, he left a trail of violence.
In 1956, when Neumann thought he got shortchanged at an Uptown bar, he went back and shotgunned three people dead. Later, Neumann would be convicted of one more murder, and suspected in two others in McHenry County.
Neumann had a steady income from a trust fund, so he didn't need to steal, rob and kill to make money. Apparently, he just enjoyed it.
Now, his long history of violence has ended. Neumann, 79, in advanced stages of cardiac disease, died of natural causes Jan. 9 at Menard Correctional Center located Downstate. He was pronounced dead at 5:45 a.m. in the medical unit of the prison where he was serving a life term for murder.
"As long as they don't remove the stake out of his f - - - - - - chest, we'll be all right," said onetime mobster Frank Cullotta during a telephone interview Wednesday from an undisclosed location. Cullotta was not particularly saddened to hear of Neumann's death.
Cullotta turned federal informant and testified against Neumann in a murder trial in 1983 that resulted in putting Neumann away for life. Neumann killed mob-connected jeweler Robert Brown during a robbery. Brown was strangled, hit on the head and when he wouldn't die, stabbed with a bayonet. "He was a real animal, the world's a better place without him -- a safer place I should say," Cullotta, who has written an autobiography that's soon to be released, said of Neumann.
Neumann was born in St. Louis, the son of a successful sporting goods salesman. He was kicked out of a Missouri military academy when he was 14, then attended Amundsen High School in Chicago, where he started running with a rough crowd and eventually dropped out, according to a published interview with his father in 1956.
It was in June of that year when Neumann went into Mickey's Miracle Bar with a shotgun he had bought on sale and unloaded on one of the owners, an employee and a patron, killing them all. He felt the bar had shorted him on change. The triple slaying sparked a citywide manhunt. Neumann's efforts to contact a "pretty divorcee" -- as she was described in news accounts -- helped police track him down. Neumann had vowed to kill one of the lead detectives trailing him. After a gun battle between Neumann and police, he surrendered peacefully. Neumann was sentenced to 125 years in prison but because of a change in parole laws, he was released after serving a little more than 10s.
Cullotta met Neumann when they were in Stateville Prison, and Neumann sought out Cullotta after both were released. "He wanted to be involved in my type of life," Cullotta said. So Neumann got into mob life, including Spilotro's burglary crew out in Las Vegas, called the "Hole in the Wall Gang" because members knocked holes through the walls of buildings to avoid alarm systems.
Dubbed "The Big Guy" and "Lurch," Neumann's hands were so big, authorities sometimes had trouble fingerprinting him. More than one top mobster -- who scared people for a living -- was frightened by Neumann, a fitness buff who reportedly did 1,000 sit-ups a day.
"Tony [Spilotro] was scared of him," Cullotta recalled. "He said, 'Please . . . don't ever get the The Big Guy mad at me or you.' "
Retired FBI agent Dennis Arnoldy said, "Larry would always go overboard," even by Spilotro's loose standards.
After Neumann died last week, no one claimed him. The state paid to cremate him, said Downstate funeral director Mike McClure. The prison chaplain will say a brief service next week over his cremated ashes in a plastic urn at Evergreen Cemetery in the nearby town of Chester.
At his request, Neumann, who was Jewish, was cremated with his yarmulke on his head.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir and Robert C. Herguth
Long before Neumann joined
, he left a trail of violence.In 1956, when Neumann thought he got shortchanged at an Uptown bar, he went back and shotgunned three people dead. Later, Neumann would be convicted of one more murder, and suspected in two others in McHenry County.
Neumann had a steady income from a trust fund, so he didn't need to steal, rob and kill to make money. Apparently, he just enjoyed it.
Now, his long history of violence has ended. Neumann, 79, in advanced stages of cardiac disease, died of natural causes Jan. 9 at Menard Correctional Center located Downstate. He was pronounced dead at 5:45 a.m. in the medical unit of the prison where he was serving a life term for murder.
"As long as they don't remove the stake out of his f - - - - - - chest, we'll be all right," said onetime mobster Frank Cullotta during a telephone interview Wednesday from an undisclosed location. Cullotta was not particularly saddened to hear of Neumann's death.
Cullotta turned federal informant and testified against Neumann in a murder trial in 1983 that resulted in putting Neumann away for life. Neumann killed mob-connected jeweler Robert Brown during a robbery. Brown was strangled, hit on the head and when he wouldn't die, stabbed with a bayonet. "He was a real animal, the world's a better place without him -- a safer place I should say," Cullotta, who has written an autobiography that's soon to be released, said of Neumann.
Neumann was born in St. Louis, the son of a successful sporting goods salesman. He was kicked out of a Missouri military academy when he was 14, then attended Amundsen High School in Chicago, where he started running with a rough crowd and eventually dropped out, according to a published interview with his father in 1956.
It was in June of that year when Neumann went into Mickey's Miracle Bar with a shotgun he had bought on sale and unloaded on one of the owners, an employee and a patron, killing them all. He felt the bar had shorted him on change. The triple slaying sparked a citywide manhunt. Neumann's efforts to contact a "pretty divorcee" -- as she was described in news accounts -- helped police track him down. Neumann had vowed to kill one of the lead detectives trailing him. After a gun battle between Neumann and police, he surrendered peacefully. Neumann was sentenced to 125 years in prison but because of a change in parole laws, he was released after serving a little more than 10s.
Cullotta met Neumann when they were in Stateville Prison, and Neumann sought out Cullotta after both were released. "He wanted to be involved in my type of life," Cullotta said. So Neumann got into mob life, including Spilotro's burglary crew out in Las Vegas, called the "Hole in the Wall Gang" because members knocked holes through the walls of buildings to avoid alarm systems.
Dubbed "The Big Guy" and "Lurch," Neumann's hands were so big, authorities sometimes had trouble fingerprinting him. More than one top mobster -- who scared people for a living -- was frightened by Neumann, a fitness buff who reportedly did 1,000 sit-ups a day.
"Tony [Spilotro] was scared of him," Cullotta recalled. "He said, 'Please . . . don't ever get the The Big Guy mad at me or you.' "
Retired FBI agent Dennis Arnoldy said, "Larry would always go overboard," even by Spilotro's loose standards.
After Neumann died last week, no one claimed him. The state paid to cremate him, said Downstate funeral director Mike McClure. The prison chaplain will say a brief service next week over his cremated ashes in a plastic urn at Evergreen Cemetery in the nearby town of Chester.
At his request, Neumann, who was Jewish, was cremated with his yarmulke on his head.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir and Robert C. Herguth
Gambler, Yes; Bookie, Yes; Boss of Mafia Crew, No?
Friends of ours: Colombo Crime Family, Joseph Colombo
Friends of mine: Soprano Crime Family, Chris Colombo, Anthony Colombo
Chris Colombo carries a famous gangster's name and "looks like he just walked off the set of 'The Sopranos' " - but he's really just a simple bookie and gambler, his lawyer said yesterday.
Defense lawyer Jeremy Schneider cut his losses as Colombo's racketeering trial got under way, conceding guilt on gambling charges, but denying that the son of murdered mob boss Joseph Colombo ran a renegade crew that used threats of violence to rake in cash.
"He looks like he just walked off the set of ' the Sopranos.' He's going to sound like he just auditioned for 'The Sopranos,' " Schneider said of Colombo, whose real-life try at stardom fell flat when HBO pulled the plug on his reality show, "House Arrest," in 2005. "He's a gambler. He's a bookie. He is not a boss of a crew," Schneider said as the barrel-chested Colombo, dressed in a flashy pinstriped suit and silver tie, listened from the defense table in Manhattan federal court.
The admission came after Assistant U.S. Attorney Lisa Baroni told jurors how Chris Colombo and his brother Anthony terrorized victims and lined their pockets as "bosses" of the "Colombo Brothers' Crew."
Prosecutors have conceded they invented the crew's name for the purposes of the indictment, but not the criminal organization itself. They claim the brothers were on the losing side of the Colombo crime family war in the 1990s and struck out on their own. Chris and his lower-key sibling Anthony, who leans on a cane and came to court in a plain gray suit, are on trial for a slew of racketeering charges, including gambling, loan-sharking, extortion and fraud.
The feds claim Anthony was double-trouble for DoubleClick - an Internet ad company that has serviced Microsoft, General Motors and Coca-Cola - after a cohort landed a job overseeing cleaning contracts during construction of the firm's new offices. Baroni said the insider ensured the contract went to a cleaning service under the crew's control and approved payment for "work that was done and work that wasn't done" to the tune of more than $100,000 in a "massive double-billing scheme."
Chris Colombo is accused of overseeing the crew's gambling operations in East Harlem and The Bronx and receiving cash deliveries at his Orange County compound. Meanwhile, Anthony allegedly shook down the owner of a small construction company, forcing him to write paychecks to his wife in a no-show job scheme.
Thanks to Kati Cornell
Friends of mine: Soprano Crime Family, Chris Colombo, Anthony Colombo
Chris Colombo carries a famous gangster's name and "looks like he just walked off the set of 'The Sopranos' " - but he's really just a simple bookie and gambler, his lawyer said yesterday.
Defense lawyer Jeremy Schneider cut his losses as Colombo's racketeering trial got under way, conceding guilt on gambling charges, but denying that the son of murdered mob boss Joseph Colombo ran a renegade crew that used threats of violence to rake in cash.
"He looks like he just walked off the set of ' the Sopranos.' He's going to sound like he just auditioned for 'The Sopranos,' " Schneider said of Colombo, whose real-life try at stardom fell flat when HBO pulled the plug on his reality show, "House Arrest," in 2005. "He's a gambler. He's a bookie. He is not a boss of a crew," Schneider said as the barrel-chested Colombo, dressed in a flashy pinstriped suit and silver tie, listened from the defense table in Manhattan federal court.
The admission came after Assistant U.S. Attorney Lisa Baroni told jurors how Chris Colombo and his brother Anthony terrorized victims and lined their pockets as "bosses" of the "Colombo Brothers' Crew."
Prosecutors have conceded they invented the crew's name for the purposes of the indictment, but not the criminal organization itself. They claim the brothers were on the losing side of the Colombo crime family war in the 1990s and struck out on their own. Chris and his lower-key sibling Anthony, who leans on a cane and came to court in a plain gray suit, are on trial for a slew of racketeering charges, including gambling, loan-sharking, extortion and fraud.
The feds claim Anthony was double-trouble for DoubleClick - an Internet ad company that has serviced Microsoft, General Motors and Coca-Cola - after a cohort landed a job overseeing cleaning contracts during construction of the firm's new offices. Baroni said the insider ensured the contract went to a cleaning service under the crew's control and approved payment for "work that was done and work that wasn't done" to the tune of more than $100,000 in a "massive double-billing scheme."
Chris Colombo is accused of overseeing the crew's gambling operations in East Harlem and The Bronx and receiving cash deliveries at his Orange County compound. Meanwhile, Anthony allegedly shook down the owner of a small construction company, forcing him to write paychecks to his wife in a no-show job scheme.
Thanks to Kati Cornell
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Ex-Cop Denies He Passed Info to the Mob
Friends of ours: James Marcello, Michael Marcello, Nick Calabrese, John "No-Nose" DiFronzo
Friends of mine: William Guide, John Ambrose
Speaking publicly for the first time, a former cop accused of receiving sensitive information about the mob from a deputy U.S. marshal denied he did anything wrong.
William Guide became agitated Tuesday when asked if he passed on to a reputed mobster sensitive information he got from deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose. "I didn't do anything," an emphatic Guide told the Chicago Sun-Times on Tuesday. "I didn't do anything wrong. You don't know the whole story. You're making me out to be the bad guy in this whole thing."
Guide was responding to a story in Tuesday's Sun-Times in which Ambrose's lawyer, Frank Lipuma, said if the government's allegations were true, Guide "may or may not have taken advantage of Mr. Ambrose."
Ambrose, 38, was charged last week with theft of information after the government said he leaked confidential material about protected mob witness Nick Calabrese to "Individual A." Sources say that is Guide. Guide has not been charged in the case.
His lawyer, Rick Beuke, said Guide looks at Ambrose as a son. Beuke said he doesn't believe there was anything sinister going on between Ambrose and Guide, two longtime friends. If Ambrose talked about anything sensitive, he may have just been bragging, Beuke said. "He wanted to impress Guide like he'd want to impress a father," Beuke said. "It's like a kid coming home and saying: 'Dad, I hit a home run.' "
Ambrose twice briefly guarded Calabrese, who is set to testify in a mob trial this spring, when he was in Chicago. Shortly after, the feds say Ambrose revealed to Guide confidential facts he obtained from a file on Calabrese.
That information made its way to mobsters, the government alleges. The feds released transcripts of prison surveillance tapes in which reputed mobsters -- Jimmy and Michael Marcello -- can be heard discussing specifics about Calabrese's movements in Chicago and his cooperation. In coded language, they refer to both Guide and Ambrose, the FBI said. Information about Calabrese came from a file Ambrose had accessed, the feds allege.
The Marcellos refer to getting information from the "baby-sitter," whose father was a cop convicted in the Marquette 10. Federal authorities say that's specific information identifying Ambrose.
They allege that a third party passed the information to mobsters and do not allege that Ambrose disclosed sensitive information intending it to go to the mob. Ambrose denies wrongdoing.
Guide briefly served prison time with reputed mobster John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Guide was a Chicago Police officer when he was convicted in the Marquette 10 scandal in the 1980s along with Ambrose's father, Thomas. Thomas Ambrose died in prison at age 37. Since then, Guide and John Ambrose have been close friends, talk often and share a love for wrestling, both of their attorneys said. "John was seeking out Bill's approval. He wanted Bill to be proud of him as a marshal," Beuke said.
Beuke said Guide and DiFronzo know each other. But he doesn't believe there's an ongoing friendship. Beuke said Guide, a South Sider, runs a pizza business and is too busy working to be a mob associate. "I don't think there's any evidence of Bill passing along any information to the mob," Beuke said.
Thanks to Natasha Korecki
Friends of mine: William Guide, John Ambrose
Speaking publicly for the first time, a former cop accused of receiving sensitive information about the mob from a deputy U.S. marshal denied he did anything wrong.
William Guide became agitated Tuesday when asked if he passed on to a reputed mobster sensitive information he got from deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose. "I didn't do anything," an emphatic Guide told the Chicago Sun-Times on Tuesday. "I didn't do anything wrong. You don't know the whole story. You're making me out to be the bad guy in this whole thing."
Guide was responding to a story in Tuesday's Sun-Times in which Ambrose's lawyer, Frank Lipuma, said if the government's allegations were true, Guide "may or may not have taken advantage of Mr. Ambrose."
Ambrose, 38, was charged last week with theft of information after the government said he leaked confidential material about protected mob witness Nick Calabrese to "Individual A." Sources say that is Guide. Guide has not been charged in the case.
His lawyer, Rick Beuke, said Guide looks at Ambrose as a son. Beuke said he doesn't believe there was anything sinister going on between Ambrose and Guide, two longtime friends. If Ambrose talked about anything sensitive, he may have just been bragging, Beuke said. "He wanted to impress Guide like he'd want to impress a father," Beuke said. "It's like a kid coming home and saying: 'Dad, I hit a home run.' "
Ambrose twice briefly guarded Calabrese, who is set to testify in a mob trial this spring, when he was in Chicago. Shortly after, the feds say Ambrose revealed to Guide confidential facts he obtained from a file on Calabrese.
That information made its way to mobsters, the government alleges. The feds released transcripts of prison surveillance tapes in which reputed mobsters -- Jimmy and Michael Marcello -- can be heard discussing specifics about Calabrese's movements in Chicago and his cooperation. In coded language, they refer to both Guide and Ambrose, the FBI said. Information about Calabrese came from a file Ambrose had accessed, the feds allege.
The Marcellos refer to getting information from the "baby-sitter," whose father was a cop convicted in the Marquette 10. Federal authorities say that's specific information identifying Ambrose.
They allege that a third party passed the information to mobsters and do not allege that Ambrose disclosed sensitive information intending it to go to the mob. Ambrose denies wrongdoing.
Guide briefly served prison time with reputed mobster John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Guide was a Chicago Police officer when he was convicted in the Marquette 10 scandal in the 1980s along with Ambrose's father, Thomas. Thomas Ambrose died in prison at age 37. Since then, Guide and John Ambrose have been close friends, talk often and share a love for wrestling, both of their attorneys said. "John was seeking out Bill's approval. He wanted Bill to be proud of him as a marshal," Beuke said.
Beuke said Guide and DiFronzo know each other. But he doesn't believe there's an ongoing friendship. Beuke said Guide, a South Sider, runs a pizza business and is too busy working to be a mob associate. "I don't think there's any evidence of Bill passing along any information to the mob," Beuke said.
Thanks to Natasha Korecki
Was Arrest of a US Marshall a Terrific Mistake?
Friends of ours: Nick Calabrese, Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, John "No Nose" DiFronzo, Aldo Cardellicchio
Friends of mine: John Ambrose, William Guide
Like his late father, John Ambrose was a distinguished, decorated law enforcement officer, respected by his peers. And also like his dad, Ambrose doesn't believe he should be facing criminal charges.
The elder Ambrose, Thomas, was a decorated Chicago cop before he was prosecuted as one of the Marquette 10, a police corruption case in the 1980s. At age 37, Thomas Ambrose died of a heart attack in prison -- just seven days after John's 18th birthday.
John Ambrose, 38, grew up to become a deputy U.S. marshal known for hunting down violent fugitives, including gang-bangers, and hauling them in to face a judge. But last week, it was Ambrose who had to face a judge's questions after he was accused of leaking sensitive government information. With short-cropped hair, Ambrose, well-built and intense, answered in an almost military style -- "Yes, your honor" -- to each of the questions.
His intensity, tenacity and strong work ethic made him such a successful law enforcement officer, colleagues say.
Despite what the FBI and federal prosecutors allege, Ambrose doesn't believe he should face prison time and plans vigorously to fight the charges, said his lawyer, Frank Lipuma. "I think they've made a terrific mistake," Lipuma said. "I think it's going to come out that other people's names have been identified, other people could have been the source of the material . . . not John."
Ambrose is accused of leaking information about what mob witness Nick Calabrese was telling the feds. After guarding Calabrese during short stints with the federal witness security program in 2002 and 2003, Ambrose allegedly leaked information from a sensitive file to a longtime family friend, William Guide. His fingerprints were found on the file, but his lawyer said the file was not secured and Ambrose was allowed to review it.
Guide, also one of the Marquette 10, allegedly passed on the information -- including details about Calabrese's movements and his cooperation -- to the mob. It caught authorities' attention when two reputed mobsters under surveillance were heard discussing the information and referred to Ambrose as "the babysitter," according to charges.
If the allegations are true, what was Ambrose's motivation? The feds do not allege Ambrose was paid. In fact, transcripts of conversations between the reputed mobsters indicate Ambrose refused money.
"Perhaps Mr. Ambrose had a father figure in this person [Guide] who may or may not have taken advantage of Mr. Ambrose," Lipuma suggested. "John did not knowingly disclose any confidential information to Guide. Whether Guide conveyed that information to someone else, we don't know."
Lipuma said Ambrose was open with his superiors about his longtime friendship with Guide, who shares Ambrose's interest in wrestling.
Ambrose, married and a father of four, grew up on the South Side and was an avid wrestler while attending St. Laurence High School. He went to Lewis University in Romeoville. Ambrose is a wrestling coach today.
Ambrose allegedly told investigators he was just bragging to Guide, described only as "Individual A" by the feds. He said he hoped his goodwill with Guide would ingratiate Ambrose with reputed mobster John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
DiFronzo and Guide are reportedly friends. That relationship could help Ambrose track down Joey "the Clown" Lombardo if he were to become a fugitive, Ambrose allegedly told investigators last September. The alleged leaks to Guide happened in 2002 and 2003. Lombardo was charged in April 2005 and then became a fugitive.
Ambrose was in his mid-teens when he saw his father go to prison. "It was very painful and hurt him a great deal when his father was convicted," Lipuma said. "He missed having his father in his life since then."
The Marquette 10 prosecution was considered ground-breaking because it was among the first to put drug dealers on the stand to testify against police officers. Some saw it as a slap in the face to local law enforcement. "I think there was a certain element of the community that resented it," said former prosecutor Dean Polales.
Lipuma dismissed any notion that Ambrose harbored resentment against the FBI or prosecutors for charging his father.
He pointed to dangerous fugitives Ambrose has hunted down, including gang-bangers on the most wanted list and mobster Aldo Cardellicchio, wanted by Italian authorities. "His job meant everything to him, to the point where he sacrificed his time with his family to do his job," Lipuma said.
Ambrose, a supervisory inspector with the Great Lakes Regional Fugitive Task Force, was involved in the hunt for six Cook County jail escapees last year. He also helped capture a man whose disappearance in the federal courthouse caused it to be shut down for hours last year. "John was so highly regarded," said attorney Thomas C. Royce, who represented Ambrose's father. "I would see him in the courthouse and he would say, 'I haven't slept in two days because I've been chasing a fugitive to Milwaukee.' "
There's a reason federal authorities are taking the Calabrese matter so seriously. Calabrese is among one of the most significant witnesses developed in Chicago's history, Chicago FBI chief Robert Grant said at a news conference.
Calabrese is poised to testify this May in the Operation Family Secrets trial as a witness to 16 mob killings that he allegedly carried out with others. But his cooperation is delicate; Calabrese has allegedly admitted to taking part in slayings, has promised to testify against family members but has no deal with prosecutors to do so.
Friends of mine: John Ambrose, William Guide
Like his late father, John Ambrose was a distinguished, decorated law enforcement officer, respected by his peers. And also like his dad, Ambrose doesn't believe he should be facing criminal charges.
The elder Ambrose, Thomas, was a decorated Chicago cop before he was prosecuted as one of the Marquette 10, a police corruption case in the 1980s. At age 37, Thomas Ambrose died of a heart attack in prison -- just seven days after John's 18th birthday.
John Ambrose, 38, grew up to become a deputy U.S. marshal known for hunting down violent fugitives, including gang-bangers, and hauling them in to face a judge. But last week, it was Ambrose who had to face a judge's questions after he was accused of leaking sensitive government information. With short-cropped hair, Ambrose, well-built and intense, answered in an almost military style -- "Yes, your honor" -- to each of the questions.
His intensity, tenacity and strong work ethic made him such a successful law enforcement officer, colleagues say.
Despite what the FBI and federal prosecutors allege, Ambrose doesn't believe he should face prison time and plans vigorously to fight the charges, said his lawyer, Frank Lipuma. "I think they've made a terrific mistake," Lipuma said. "I think it's going to come out that other people's names have been identified, other people could have been the source of the material . . . not John."
Ambrose is accused of leaking information about what mob witness Nick Calabrese was telling the feds. After guarding Calabrese during short stints with the federal witness security program in 2002 and 2003, Ambrose allegedly leaked information from a sensitive file to a longtime family friend, William Guide. His fingerprints were found on the file, but his lawyer said the file was not secured and Ambrose was allowed to review it.
Guide, also one of the Marquette 10, allegedly passed on the information -- including details about Calabrese's movements and his cooperation -- to the mob. It caught authorities' attention when two reputed mobsters under surveillance were heard discussing the information and referred to Ambrose as "the babysitter," according to charges.
If the allegations are true, what was Ambrose's motivation? The feds do not allege Ambrose was paid. In fact, transcripts of conversations between the reputed mobsters indicate Ambrose refused money.
"Perhaps Mr. Ambrose had a father figure in this person [Guide] who may or may not have taken advantage of Mr. Ambrose," Lipuma suggested. "John did not knowingly disclose any confidential information to Guide. Whether Guide conveyed that information to someone else, we don't know."
Lipuma said Ambrose was open with his superiors about his longtime friendship with Guide, who shares Ambrose's interest in wrestling.
Ambrose, married and a father of four, grew up on the South Side and was an avid wrestler while attending St. Laurence High School. He went to Lewis University in Romeoville. Ambrose is a wrestling coach today.
Ambrose allegedly told investigators he was just bragging to Guide, described only as "Individual A" by the feds. He said he hoped his goodwill with Guide would ingratiate Ambrose with reputed mobster John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
DiFronzo and Guide are reportedly friends. That relationship could help Ambrose track down Joey "the Clown" Lombardo if he were to become a fugitive, Ambrose allegedly told investigators last September. The alleged leaks to Guide happened in 2002 and 2003. Lombardo was charged in April 2005 and then became a fugitive.
Ambrose was in his mid-teens when he saw his father go to prison. "It was very painful and hurt him a great deal when his father was convicted," Lipuma said. "He missed having his father in his life since then."
The Marquette 10 prosecution was considered ground-breaking because it was among the first to put drug dealers on the stand to testify against police officers. Some saw it as a slap in the face to local law enforcement. "I think there was a certain element of the community that resented it," said former prosecutor Dean Polales.
Lipuma dismissed any notion that Ambrose harbored resentment against the FBI or prosecutors for charging his father.
He pointed to dangerous fugitives Ambrose has hunted down, including gang-bangers on the most wanted list and mobster Aldo Cardellicchio, wanted by Italian authorities. "His job meant everything to him, to the point where he sacrificed his time with his family to do his job," Lipuma said.
Ambrose, a supervisory inspector with the Great Lakes Regional Fugitive Task Force, was involved in the hunt for six Cook County jail escapees last year. He also helped capture a man whose disappearance in the federal courthouse caused it to be shut down for hours last year. "John was so highly regarded," said attorney Thomas C. Royce, who represented Ambrose's father. "I would see him in the courthouse and he would say, 'I haven't slept in two days because I've been chasing a fugitive to Milwaukee.' "
There's a reason federal authorities are taking the Calabrese matter so seriously. Calabrese is among one of the most significant witnesses developed in Chicago's history, Chicago FBI chief Robert Grant said at a news conference.
Calabrese is poised to testify this May in the Operation Family Secrets trial as a witness to 16 mob killings that he allegedly carried out with others. But his cooperation is delicate; Calabrese has allegedly admitted to taking part in slayings, has promised to testify against family members but has no deal with prosecutors to do so.
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