January 14th, 1979. Tommy Dimone walked into what he thought was his ceremony. The room at John Goty’s crew headquarters in Queens. Empty chairs, empty promises. Tommy turned around and saw the gun. He knew in that split second before the bullet entered his skull, he understood someone had given him up.
Someone he trusted, someone he made millions for, someone who had protected him for nearly a decade. Paul Vario, his boss, his mentor, the man who gave him his first score. Paul Vario had just signed his death warrant. This wasn’t some wise guy getting caught on a wire. This wasn’t a rat turning government witness.
This was something far more calculated. Paul Vario didn’t go to the FBI. He didn’t testify in court. He made a different kind of deal. One the Gambino family could accept. One that avoided a war nobody could win. He stopped protecting Tommy D. Simone. And in the world of organized crime, removing your protection is the same as pulling the trigger yourself.
This is the story of how mob politics, interf family diplomacy, and cold survival calculations sealed Tommy’s fate. How Aappo’s silence became a death sentence. How the murder of Billy Bats 9 years earlier finally came due. and why Paul Vario’s betrayal was the smartest, coldest, most ruthless decision of his criminal career.
But here’s what nobody talks about. Paul knew about Billy Bats within 3 days of the murder. He knew Tommy killed a made man. He knew the Gambinos would want blood. And for 8 years, he said nothing. He protected Tommy anyway until protecting him became more dangerous than giving him up. Let’s start with what Paul Vario actually was, not the movie version, the real man.
Paul Vario was born in 1914 in New York City. By the 1960s, he was a kappa regime in the Lucesi crime family. A captain, he ran one of the most profitable crews in Brooklyn. His operations included illegal gambling, lone sharking, extortion, labor raketeering at Kennedy Airport, burglary rings, and occasional murder contracts.
His crew generated millions annually. He wasn’t flashy. He was a builder, a strategist, a diplomat who understood that in the mafia, survival meant managing relationships as much as managing money. Vario controlled labor peace at Kennedy airport. Airlines, cargo companies, freight forwarders, they all paid tribute to avoid strikes, slowdowns, and problems.
It was a protection racket that generated steady, reliable income. No headlines, no heat, just consistent cash flowing upward to the Luces family administration. That’s what made Vario valuable. He was a earner who kept his operations quiet. In 1965, Vario brought Tommy Desimone into his crew.
Tommy was 19, big kid, 6’2 in, massively built, hot-tempered, violent. Tommy’s older brother, Anthony, was already in the crew. His sister, Dolores, was married to another Lucesy associate. Tommy grew up around wise guys. This was the family business. Tommy was exactly the kind of guy you wanted for certain jobs. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t hesitate.
You needed someone hurt. Tommy hurt them. You needed someone dead. Tommy killed them. Between 1965 and 1979, Tommy was suspected in at least 10 murders. Most were never solved. That’s how he earned his reputation. Tommy was a weapon. But weapons are only useful when you can control them. Here’s what you have to understand about the mafia structure.
Tommy Desimone was not a made man. He was an associate. He hadn’t been formally inducted. Why? Because his father wasn’t a full-blooded Italian. Tommy had Irish blood through his mother. Under traditional mafia rules, that disqualified him from becoming a maid member. So despite all the murders, all the scores, all the money he earned, Tommy would always be an outsider.
He could get close, but he could never be fully inside. That fact ate at him and it made him reckless. Now, let’s talk about Billy Bats. William Bentina, known as Billy Bats, born in 1921, a maid man in the Gambino crime family. Billy was a soldier, a respected earner. In 1964, he got arrested on narcotics trafficking charges. He went away for 6 years.
While Billy was in prison, the world changed. His territory got absorbed. His rackets got taken over. His respect got forgotten by the younger guys coming up. June 11th, 1970. Billy Bats got released from prison. There was a welcome home party, the suite, a nightclub in Queens. Henry Hill had a piece of the club.
The place was packed. Wise guys from multiple families, celebration, drinks, the whole thing. Tommy De Simone showed up. So did Jimmy Burke. So did Henry Hill. At some point during the night, Billy Bats made a comment to Tommy. The exact words are disputed. Some say Billy told Tommy to go get his shine box.
>> Hey Tommy, if I was going to break your ball, I’d tell you to go home and get your shine box. >> A reference to when Tommy was a kid shining shoes. Some say Billy just busted his balls about something else. Doesn’t matter. What matters is Tommy felt disrespected by a maid man in front of other people. Tommy snapped.
He attacked Billy Bats right there in the club, beat him with his fists. Jimmy Burke joined in. They dragged Billy outside, threw him in the trunk of Henry Hill’s car and drove to a location in Connecticut. Billy was still alive when they opened the trunk. Tommy stabbed him multiple times. Jimmy shot him.
They buried his body. 6 months later, they had to dig it up and move it because the property was being developed. They reeried Billy Bats in a different location. That’s the murder. But here’s what happened next. And this is where Paul Vario’s calculation begins. Within 3 days, Paul Vario knew.
Henry Hill told him, “You don’t kill a maid man from another family without your boss finding out.” The question was, “What would Paul do about it?” Under mafia protocol, you can’t kill a made man without permission from the commission. Billy Bats was Gambino. Tommy was Lucesi or would have been if he could get made.
The Gambinos had the right to demand justice. They could go to the commission. They could demand Tommy’s life. They could demand war. But here’s the thing. Billy Bats had been in prison for 6 years. His crew had moved on. He wasn’t generating money anymore. He wasn’t connected to current power players.
Carlo Gambino, the boss, had bigger problems. The Colombo war was heating up. Law enforcement pressure was increasing. A conflict with the Lucesi family over one aging soldier wasn’t strategic. So, the Gambinos did nothing immediately. But they didn’t forget. For 8 years, Tommy Dimone walked around free. He kept earning. He kept killing.
In 1974, he killed Ronald Gerrotha, Foxy, a Gambino associate and a protetéé of John Goty. Tommy had dated Gerrotha’s sister, beat her up. Gera threatened to kill Tommy, so Tommy went to Gerrotha’s apartment on December 18th, 1974, and shot him dead. Now, Tommy had killed two men connected to the Gambino family.
Billy Bats, a maid man. Ronald Gerroi, a Goty crew member. You have to understand what that meant. It wasn’t just about revenge. It was about respect, about power, about sending a message. If you let someone kill your people twice, you look weak. And in the mafia, weakness gets you killed.
John Goty was rising in the Gambino family. He was ambitious. He was building his reputation. He had loved Foxy Jery like a brother. And now this Lucesi associate, this halfIrish punk who couldn’t even get made, had killed him. That was personal. But Goti was also smart. He didn’t move without permission. He waited.
He built his case. He let the anger simmer. By 1978, the situation had changed. The Luces family was under pressure. Law enforcement was investigating the Lufanza heist. Jimmy Burke was killing witnesses. Tommy was involved. The heat was increasing. Paul Vario was facing his own legal problems. The careful, quiet operation he’d built was coming apart.
And then the Gambinos came calling. The conversation likely happened through intermediaries, sitdowns, discussions between Kappos. The Gambinos presented their case. Tommy Desimone killed Billy Bats in 1970. He killed Ronald Gerroi in 1974. Both unsanctioned. Both violations of mafia law. The Gambinos wanted justice. They wanted Tommy dead.
Paul Vario had a choice. He could refuse. He could protect Tommy. Say Tommy was his guy, his responsibility, his crew. But that meant conflict. That meant the Gambinos would escalate. They’d go to the commission. They’d make it formal. And if the commission sided with the Gambinos, which they would because the law was clear, Paul would look weak.
He’d be ordered to give up Tommy anyway. Or worse, the Lucesi family would have to go to war with the Gambinos to protect one associate who couldn’t even become a maid man. Or Paul could agree quietly. No public announcement. No formal hearing. Just remove his protection. Let the Gambinos handle it.
Keep the peace. Avoid a war. Maintain interf family relations. Sacrifice one man to save the larger structure. Paul Vario chose survival. He chose the family over Tommy. He chose politics over loyalty. But he did it in a way that gave him deniability. He didn’t order the hit himself. He didn’t tell the Gambinos where Tommy would be.
He simply stopped saying no. He stopped protecting Tommy. He let it be known through the right channels that if something happened to Tommy, the Lucesy family wouldn’t retaliate. That was the signal. That was the green light. In late 1978 or early 1979, the Gambinos made their move. They set up the trap.
They told Tommy he was being made. Finally, after all these years, after all the work, he was getting his button. He was going to become a maid man. They told him to come to a location in Queens, John Goty’s crew territory. They said there’d be a ceremony. Tommy believed it. Of course he did.
This was what he’d wanted his entire life. Recognition, respect, to be formally inducted into the family. He got dressed up. He went to the location. The room was empty. No ceremony, no family members, just an empty room and men with guns. According to mob informant Josephuzi, Thomas Agro killed Tommy.
According to Henry Hill, John Goti killed him personally. Either way, Tommy Dimone was shot in the head. His body was never found. On January 14th, 1979, his wife, Angela, reported him missing. He was 28 years old. Here’s what happened to his body. Multiple theories. Some say it was buried in a mob graveyard in Queens.
Some say it was put through a meat grinder. Some say it was dumped in the ocean. FBI never found it. To this day, Tommy Desimone’s murder is officially unsolved. But everyone in the life knew who did it, and everyone knew why. Paul Vario never spoke about it publicly. He didn’t have to. The message was clear.
He had made the calculation, one man’s life versus the stability of the family, personal loyalty versus institutional survival. And he chose the institution. But let’s be clear about what Paul actually did. He didn’t betray Tommy in the traditional sense. He didn’t rat to the police. He didn’t wear a wire. He didn’t testify.
In the world of organized crime, those are betrayals. What Paul did was abandon Tommy. He withdrew protection. He made Tommy fair game. That’s different. That’s politics. Think about it from Paul’s perspective. He’s a cappo. He’s responsible for dozens of men. He’s responsible for millions in revenue.
He’s responsible for maintaining relationships with other families. Tommy had killed two Gambino connected men unsanctioned. That violated mafia law. The Gambinos had a legitimate grievance. If Paul protected Tommy, he’d be starting a conflict that could get many people killed. His own crew, his family, innocent guys who had nothing to do with Tommy’s murders.
Paul Vario had built his career on being smart, on managing risk, on keeping things quiet. Tommy Dimone was the opposite. Tommy was loud, violent, uncontrollable. He attracted attention. He created problems. And now he’d created a problem Paul couldn’t solve without sacrificing him. So Paul made the cold calculation.
Tommy was an associate, not a made man. He couldn’t even become one. He was valuable as a weapon, but weapons can be replaced. The relationship with the Gambino family couldn’t be replaced. The peace between the families was worth more than one man’s life. Was it betrayal? Depends on your definition.
In the civilian world, yes, absolutely. But in the mafia, loyalty has limits. You’re loyal up until loyalty threatens the larger organization. Then you make the call. Paul made the call. And here’s the thing nobody wants to admit. Paul was right. Strategically, he was right. Giving up Tommy avoided a war.
It maintained interf family diplomacy. It kept the Lucesy family strong. It showed Paul understood the bigger picture. He wasn’t some street thug who’d go to war over personal loyalty. He was a businessman who made hard decisions. But it destroyed any illusion of loyalty in his crew. Henry Hill saw what happened.
Jimmy Burke saw it. Everyone in the crew saw it. Your boss will give you up if it serves his interests. That’s the lesson. That’s what Paul’s decision taught them. And when Henry Hill eventually flipped and became a government witness in 1980, you have to wonder if Paul’s betrayal of Tommy played a role.
If Henry thought, “Why should I stay loyal to a family that doesn’t stay loyal to me?” Paul Vario never faced justice for his role in Tommy’s death. He was never charged. The murder was never officially solved. Paul went to prison in 1984 on separate charges. Extortion related to his airport operations.
Henry Hill testified against him. Paul was convicted. He got sentenced to 10 years. He died in federal prison in 1988. Respiratory failure. He was 73 years old. John Goti became boss of the Gambino family in 1985. He died in prison in 2002. Jimmy Burke died in prison in 1996. Henry Hill died in 2012, still in witness protection.
Tommy Dimon’s body was never found. No funeral, no grave. He just disappeared like he never existed. That’s what happens when your boss decides you’re not worth protecting anymore. So, what does this story tell us about the mafia? About loyalty, about power. It tells us the mafia isn’t about honor. It never was.
It’s about business. It’s about power. It’s about survival. Loyalty is a tool. It’s useful when it serves the organization. But when loyalty becomes a liability, it gets discarded. Paul Vario understood that. He understood that keeping Tommy alive threatened his position, his crew, his family. So he let Tommy die.
It also tells us that violence has consequences. Tommy Desimone thought he could kill anyone who disrespected him. He thought being useful to Paul Vario would protect him. He was wrong. Every murder he committed created an enemy. Every unsanctioned hit created a debt. Eventually those debts came due. And when they did, Paul wasn’t there to cover them.
The murder of Billy Bats in 1970 created a chain reaction that took 9 years to complete. The Gambinos remembered. They waited. They built their case. They approached the Lucesi family through proper channels. They used the rules of the mafia to get what they wanted. And they got it because Paul Vario valued peace more than he valued Tommy Desimon’s life.
Here’s the final truth. Paul Vario didn’t snitch on Tommy in the traditional sense. He did something worse. He made Tommy believe he was protected. He let Tommy operate for years thinking he had backing. He let Tommy kill, steal, and earn believing his boss had his back. And then when the bill came due, Paul stepped aside. He didn’t defend Tommy.
He didn’t fight for him. He just let it happen. That’s the real betrayal, not the act itself. The illusion that came before it. The belief that loyalty meant something.
News
The Silly British Shoulder Patch That Convinced Germans They Were Completely Surrounded D
It is the autumn of 1942 and a German intelligence officer is staring at a prisoner’s uniform with growing unease. The man in front of him is a British soldier captured somewhere in the western desert, sunburned and defiant. The…
The Silly British Beer Trick That Made German Pilots Reveal All Their Secrets D
It is the summer of 1940 and somewhere in rural Buckinghamshire, a captured Luftwaffer pilot is sitting across a table from a man who seems completely harmless. The room is warm. There is a fire crackling in the grate. Someone…
They Mocked the Buffalo Soldiers — Then They Took the Hill D
July 1st, 1898. San Juan Heights, Cuba. 100 p.m. Sergeant George Barry of the 10th Cavalry Regiment holds the regimental flag as Spanish Mouser bullets crack overhead. His unit, one of four segregated black regiments in the US Army, has…
Italy Called Them Heroes — America Made Them Sit in Back of the Bus D
June 9th, 1944. Ramatelli airfield, Italy. Captain Wendell Puit of the 332nd Fighter Group climbs into his P-51 Mustang for the morning escort mission. The bomber formation he’s protecting will strike rail yards near Munich. The mission is 1,000 mi…
White Officers Resigned Rather Than Lead Them — So They Became Their Own Officers D
October 1944, Fort Wuka, Arizona. Captain John Renan stands before Major General Edward Almond, commander of the 92nd Infantry Division. Renan is requesting a transfer, any assignment, anywhere, as long as it’s away from the 92nd. His reason is direct….
How Australian SASR Became the Most Feared Unit in Afghanistan Nobody Back Home Knew About D
On September 2nd, 2008, in a valley in Uruguan Province, Afghanistan, an Australian SAS trooper named Mark Donaldelsson was running beside a convoy of vehicles that were being shredded by Taliban machine gun fire and rocket propelled grenades. Every seat…
End of content
No more pages to load