It was a surprise move, but not an unwelcome one. Government prosecutors knew he was a treasure chest of inside information, not only about the Lucchese family, but about some of the other families, and they compared him to another valuable turncoat, Gambino underboss Sammy "Bull" Gravano, whose testimony against Gambino boss John Gotti helped put away the elusive Teflon Don. But Casso apparently didn't understand that turncoats are supposed to show that they've turned a corner in their lives and want to leave their criminal ways behind them. If anything, Gaspipe seemed to feel that cooperating with the government gave him license to misbehave.
Incarcerated in a special prison unit for cooperating witnesses, Casso frequently picked fights with other inmates. In one instance, he assaulted a handcuffed prisoner in the shower room. On another occasion, he attacked an inmate twice his size with a rolled-up magazine. The 350-pound prisoner grabbed the 165-pound Casso by the shirtfront and beat him mercilessly until guards tore them apart. Both men were relegated to solitary confinement as a result.
Jerry Capeci writes in his article "Gaspipes Gets Gassed" that Casso also sweet-talked a prison secretary into doing favors for him, including giving him use of an unmonitored telephone. Casso also "bribed guards at the Otisville Correctional Facility to supply him with cash, steaks, sushi, turkeys, vodka, wine and other contraband."
Casso was proving to be a loose cannon, and prosecutors feared what he would do on the stand if he were ever used as a witness. They decided not to use him in the trial against Genovese boss, Vincent "Chin" Gigante, relying instead on the testimonies of Sammy Gravano and "Little Al" D'Arco. Casso was so incensed that he'd been passed over, he wrote a letter to federal prosecutors in Brooklyn after Gigante's conviction and blasted the turncoat witnesses, accusing Gravano and D'Arco of lying on the stand. Prosecutors must have blown a gasket when they received his written temper tantrum, fearing that this document could jeopardize their hard-won conviction.
This time, Casso had gone too far. He was booted out of the program and evicted from the witness-protection unit of the prison. Branded a rat by his former mob cohorts, he had to be housed by himself in solitary confinement for his own protection. Prosecutors then wrote their own letter to the court, recommending that Casso not be given leniency in sentencing for cooperation that never paid off. They asked that Casso be given a life sentence, which is exactly what he got. His sushi and steak days were over.
In 1993, Vic Amuso, still the boss of the Lucchese family, made his wishes known from behind prison walls. His choice to lead the family as acting boss in his absence was his handball partner from his old Queens neighborhood, Joseph "Little Joe" Defede. After years of turmoil and internal strife, the Lucchese Family seemed to be on an even keel. But then Amuso started checking the books. He found that the family rackets weren't making as much money as they had been, and he suggested that Defede might be skimming off the top of the family's garment district rackets. In his article "A Lousy Legacy," Jerry Capeci quotes an unnamed source as saying that Defede, who was never known for being a "tough guy," feared that Amuso would have him "whacked" for stealing from the family. After serving nearly five years as acting boss, he turned himself in to the FBI and pleaded guilty to extorting a small fortune from businesses in the garment district. For "Little Joe," who had started his criminal career running a numbers operation out of a hot-dog truck in Brooklyn, it was an easy choice: better to be alive in prison than dead in the street. While lying in a prison hospital bed in Lexington, Kentucky, Defede took a hard look at his life and decided that there was nothing left for him in the mob. He decided to follow "Little Al" D'Arco's lead and turn government witness.
Next up in the top slot was underboss Steven Crea, but his term as acting boss didn't last long. He was soon convicted on state racketeering charges involving the construction industry and sent to prison.
Crea's successor met a similar fate. In September 2004, the Lucchese Family's next acting boss, Louis "Louie Crossbay" Daidone, was convicted in federal court on loansharking and murder charges. "Little Al" D'Arco, testifying for the prosecution, claimed that when he had been acting boss of the Lucchese Family, he had ordered Daidone to kill a man he feared would turn government witness. He said he told Daidone to stuff a canary in the corpse's mouth as a warning to any others who might be thinking about spilling their guts to the government. With the aid of a magnifying glass, jurors were able to spot the canary in the victim's mouth in crime scene photographs, and, as a result, voted to convict Daidone.
It should be noted that the Lucchese Family has inspired some of the most notable mob characters on film and television. The Martin Scorsese film Goodfellas is based on Nicholas Pileggi's nonfiction book Wiseguy, which follows the life and crimes of Lucchese associate Henry Hill. In that movie, actor Paul Sorvino plays "Paul Cicero," a character modeled on the real-life Lucchese capo Paul Vario. Henry Hill (played by Ray Liotta) and Jimmy "the Gent" Burke (played by Robert DiNiro) were both associates in Vario's crew.
Prosecutors and investigators from New Jersey believe that Michael Taccetta, street boss for the Garden State faction of the Lucchese Family, is the likely inspiration for "Tony Soprano" (played by James Gandolfini), the main character of HBO's The Sopranos. They also cite close similarities between Lucchese hitman Tommy Ricciardi and Tony Soprano's consigliere "Silvio Dante" (played by Steven Van Zandt). Both Taccetta and Ricciardi were on Vic Amuso's hit list when he decreed that the Jersey faction of the Lucchese Family should be made extinct.