"Success is relative: It is what we can make
of the mess we have made of things."
-- T.S. Eliot
After the bloodletting that was Momos life gorged over with the murder of a
top celebrity and the nations chief executive, the Outfit was wondering if maybe
Momo was getting carried away, or if he perhaps might be psychotic. He seemed like
the bored pagan emperor who, when there were no more Christians to kill, had turned the
lions loose on the spectators.
When he was incarcerated in Cook County Jail for nearly a year (1965-66) for not
responding to a Justice Department subpoena, the tensions within the mob seemed to ease.
When Momo was released in May, 1966, possibly feeling the present sentiments, he decided
to relocate to Mexico. From there, he could manage his Latin American investments from a
geographically closer point.
He had told the American press, upon their inquiring, that he was simply an American
businessman enjoying his retirement in a foreign port of call. Of course, no one,
especially the FBI, believed him. From his luxurious villa outside San Cristobal, he
trotted the globe, meeting with top mobsters and financiers in Peru, Bolivia,
Haiti, Chile, the British Honduras and Europe.
Throughout the late 1960s and early 1970s, the FBI made several attempts to roust him
from his Mexican hideaway, even harassing his daughters. Finally, in 1974, under pressure,
the Mexican government extradited him back to the United States. Immigration agents
"literally dragged (him) from his home...to Juarez, and pushed him across the border
at El Paso, Texas, into the awaiting arms of U.S. Customs and FBI agents," wrote
daughter Antoinette.
Summoned to appear before the Senate Select Subcommittee on Intelligence, Momos
deteriorating health allowed him to postpone his appearance. A series of gall bladder
operations kept him bedridden. At last, back on his feet, another subpoena ordered him to
appear without alibi in Washington, D.C., on June 24, 1975.
But, alibis aside, he would never testify. While cooking up a pan of escarole and
sausages on the evening of June 19, in his Oak Park basement, someone snuffed the demon
forever.
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