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himself at the misery and misfortune of any who stumbled into his way. The testimony you will hear will not be hearsay, as the defense would like you to believe, but facts from people who knew Mr. Cavello personally, who participated in these crimes. The defense will surely tell you that these people are not exactly innocents themselves. And they’re right. They are criminals, coconspirators, killers. By all accounts, ladies and gentlemen, these are bad guys. The defense will say that it is their job to lie and deceive.
    “But make no mistake,” Goldenberger said as he looked each member of the jury in the eyes, “in their stories you will hear the truth. It will be the preponderance of evidence and detail, all backing each other up, that will convince you that Mr. Cavello was the man giving the orders. You will hear the words he used, hear his reactions. And, under the law, that makes him as guilty of the crimes as if he pulled the triggers himself. I hope you will see Mr. Cavello for what he is, ladies and gentlemen: a vicious, cold-blooded killer.”

Chapter 13
    LOUIS MACHIA, the prosecution’s first witness, stepped up to the stand and was sworn in. Machia had been a loyal soldier in Cavello’s crime family. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with thick black hair, and was wearing a gray golf shirt.
    With a pleasant smile, he looked around the courtroom at the jurors and the press. Never once did his gaze drift anywhere near Cavello.
    “Good morning, Mr. Machia,” U.S. Attorney Joel Goldenberger said as he stood up.
    “Morning, Mr. Goldenberger.”
    “Can you tell us your current address, Mr. Machia?” the prosecutor asked.
    “My current address is a federal prison. I’m afraid I can’t divulge which one.”
    “A federal prison?” The prosecutor nodded. “So, for the sake of the jury, you’ve been convicted of a crime?”
    “Many crimes. Under the terms of my 509 agreement, I admitted to all sorts of them.”
    “Can you describe these crimes for us? What you pleaded guilty to?”
    “ All of them?” The gangster chuckled. “That would take a lot of time.”
    Several people in the courtroom laughed out loud. The jury, too. Even Judge Seiderman put a hand in front of her face to conceal a smile.
    “How about we start with just the major ones, Mr. Machia?” Joel Goldenberger grinned as well. “The highlights, if you will.”
    “The highlights . . .” Machia bunched his lips. “Well . . . murder. Two murders, actually. Attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, breaking and entering, loan-sharking, drug trafficking, auto theft . . .”
    “That’ll do, Mr. Machia. You’re right, there is a lot to choose from. So it’s fair to say you’ve been breaking the law for a long time?”
    “Pretty much since I learned to use a fork.” Louis Machia nodded thoughtfully.
    “And these crimes,” the prosecutor said, “these are all things you’ve planned and executed entirely on your own?”
    “Sometimes, Mr. Goldenberger, if I catch your drift. Other times I was told to do them.”
    “Told?”
    “Ordered, Mr. Goldenberger.” The gangster took a swig of water. “By the family.”
    “The family. ” Goldenberger stepped toward the witness. “Is it safe to say that for the past twenty years or so you’ve been a member of an organized crime family?”
    “Very safe, Mr. Goldenberger. I was a soldier. In the Guarino family.”
    “The Guarino crime family. Your Honor, with your permission, I’d like to show an exhibit to the jury.”
    One of the assistant prosecutors put a large poster board covered with small photographs on an easel in front of the jury. It showed a pyramid-like family tree of about fifty faces. On the bottom, soldiers; on the level above that, captains; and on the highest tier were the leaders. That’s where Cavello’s face was displayed, above the heading Boss.
    “This is a current depiction of the Guarino crime family, is it not, Mr. Machia?”
    The witness nodded.