Bonanno felt he deserved the vaunted position since in his estimation he, unlike his so-called peers, was the only remaining "man of honor" in the tradition of the Sicilian Mafia. "Wealth," he would later write in his controversial 1983 autobiography, was a "by-product of power." According to Bonanno, Lucky Luciano and his ilk concerned themselves with "the most primitive consideration: making money"-an interesting statement coming from a man whose crime family made most of its profits from the sale and distribution of narcotics. During his unprecedented 33 year reign, Bonanno used his considerable ill-gotten gain to extend his empire beyond the New York City area, acquiring major interests in Arizona, California, Canada, Cuba, and Haiti.
The boss and his lawyers lingered long after their meal was over that night and finally left the restaurant close to midnight. They flipped up their overcoat collars against a steady drizzle as they flagged down a taxi. Bonanno, Maloney, and Allen got in, and Maloney told the driver to go to his apartment building at 36th Street and Park Avenue where they planned to continue their conference. Bonanno had been invited to stay at Maloney's apartment that night, so he wouldn't have to commute into Manhattan from his Long Island home for the next day's hearing. In his autobiography, Bonanno says that although he knew he was in hot water, he didn't fear for his life and traveled without a bodyguard.
When the taxi pulled up at the curb in front of Maloney's apartment, Allen got out first and walked to the canopy at the entrance to get out of the rain while Bonanno and Maloney argued over who would pay the fare. Bonanno insisted, and Maloney conceded, following his partner to the canopy as their client paid the driver.
Bonanno stepped onto the sidewalk, closed the door, and the taxi pulled away. He didn't notice the two men walking toward him until they grabbed him by the arms and roughly hustled him toward the corner.
"Come on, Joe," one of the men said. "My boss wants you."
According Bonanno's account, "they were tall, had long coats and brimmed hats."
Maloney shouted at them, but a gunshot into the sidewalk at his feet sent him scurrying for shelter.
The two men dragged Bonanno to a waiting car and shoved him in the backseat, ordering him to "crouch on the floor...head down." The car sped off, making several sharp turns that jostled the boss. Finally the car stopped turning and picked up speed. Bonanno assumed they were on a highway.
The two men told Bonanno he could sit up now and instructed him to sit between them. Their driver kept his eye on the road, and they started apologizing to Bonanno for having to manhandle him. That's when Bonanno recognized the two "sad faces." One was his cousin, Nino Maggadino, brother of Stefano Maggadino, the mob boss of Buffalo. The other man was Stefano's son Peter.
"Cosa si puo dire?" Peter said to his uncle Joe in Sicilian-accented Italian. "What's there to say?"
Bonanno said nothing. He knew why his cousin Stefano had ordered this kidnapping. Bonanno had put out a contract on Stefano Maggadino's life, but the plot had been revealed and thwarted. Obviously this was Maggadino's retaliation.
The car's headlights swept the curving entrance ramp that led to the George Washington Bridge. Through the car windows, Bonanno could see the shimmering waters of the Hudson River and the brightly lit Manhattan skyline to his left as they made their way to New Jersey.
Joseph C. Bonanno came to power in 1931 with the assassination of Sicilian-born Mafia boss Salvatore Maranzano in New York in the culmination of the legendary Castellammarese War, which marked the beginning of the modern age of organized crime in America. Just five months earlier Maranzano had wrested the top slot from Giuseppe "Joe the Boss" Masseria, the old-fashioned Mustache Pete" who had ruled the Italian-American gangs in New York City with an iron fist. Masseria had been gunned down one spring afternoon at his favorite Coney Island restaurant. Maranzano was slightly more forward thinking that Masseria, but to the young Turks champing at the bit to do things their way, he was just another "Mustache Pete" who needed to be replaced. Charles "Lucky" Luciano, who had been Masseria's second in command, was the prime architect of the plan to overthrow all the old-timers.
Joseph Bonanno in his autobiography, A Man of Honor, claims that he knew nothing of the plot to kill Maranzano, a statement that defies mob logic. If he had been as loyal to Maranzano as he says, then he too would have been assassinated. But in fact he benefited greatly from Maranzano's demise, becoming the boss of a sizeable portion of Maranzano's gang. At age 26, he became the youngest crime boss in America.