Bamboozled Page 10

  Four days later, Joey’s worst fears were confirmed: “The trial court is directed to reinstate [the] defendant’s first-degree guilty plea … and the sentence of 25 years to life.” Wefald tries to insist it’s not over. She has discovered evidence that Santana, Joey’s chief accuser, was also a suspect, which wasn’t revealed at his trial. She convinces the court to allow her client to stay out on bail while she prepares his appeal, but everyone knows that the clock is ticking.

  Knowing the FBI no longer wanted him to hang around Vegas, Joey switched it up and began working as muscle for Top Rank. Joey says he flew out to New York and was told to go into Cha Cha’s Pizzeria, a mob joint he claimed Trampler had connections to, and begin infiltrating their operation. Joey carried an envelope with $5,000 in cash and a pistol. He says he always carried a gun because he didn’t like how the FBI carried themselves and figured he’d eventually need it. A limo dropped off Joey in front of Cha Cha’s, where he says he saw agents across the street. Joey sat in the back of the restaurant, waiting for Cha Cha and said the date and time into his recorder.

  Cha Cha walked in and Joey says he told him about Furachi being squeezed and how Trampler had suggested they talk. Cha Cha counted the money and said, “Grazie. I will make some calls.” With that done, Joey returned back to the hotel, gave Schlumpf the recorder, and blew off some steam.

  Joey met with the FBI prior to meeting with Trampler, who wanted to take him for a drive. Joey was fairly sure that this meant Trampler knew he was working for the FBI and it was all over, but they just went down to the Orleans Casino to see Trampler’s friend Tony Danza, performing a one man show. Trampler asked Joey about New York but Joey says he seemed to know the whole story from Cha Cha already.

  Trampler went with Joey to his next bail hearing to work on the movie script about Joey’s life. There was still no plead out option being offered. They had lunch with Boom Boom Mancini and Ed O’Neil. Trampler supposedly went on and on about fixing all of Boom Boom’s fights on Joey’s recorder.

  Joey thought that Trampler—known for being a savant and a genius—could see right through him. Trampler always talked about how he hated rats. On the way back to Vegas, Trampler told Joey about a family friend, Dino DaVinci, who owned one of the nation’s biggest off shore betting establishments in Costa Rica, and he would make the call for Joey. Frankie was in so deep with Sean and the drug dealers— that he brought in another agent to play his girlfriend. Joey visited Angie, who was concerned and sensed that something was not right. He picked up an envelope after hours to be delivered to DaVinci and left on a red eye for Costa Rica.

  He met DaVinci at the twenty story building that he claimed housed Sportsbet.com and 2bet.com. Trampler claimed to Joey that they bring in a million dollars each week. The competition across the street was supposedly being run by Jimmy Sacco. Dino was waiting for Joey.

  One night at the El Rey Casino, Joey claims he saw Bonnano and his crew, who invited him over. Bonnano supposedly ran bets and wanted to know what it would take for DaVinci to go away. Joey says he played stupid, like he didn’t hear him and walked out.

  Joey received a call from Trampler, who told him that Oscar De La Hoya wanted to meet with him so Joey flew back and they headed to Big Bear, CA, where Oscar was training for his Yory Boy fight.

  Joey told Trampler about DaVinci and the murder for hire. “Dino is a good man from the Rhode Island family that I know from the boxing scene. What you do is your business.” Joey claims Trampler told him. Joey returned to Jaco and claims he sat Dino down and told him about the green light with a $50,000 tag, but that he was willing to hear other offers.

  The following week, Dino’s courier was hit for six figures coming out of the bank. Someone in his own family was a traitor who had stolen ledgers valued in the millions. Dino left town, selling the last of his company to Jimmy Sacco.

  Joey talked to Frankie who told him that there was a problem with some guy named Rodriguez threatening Top Rank’s managers if they didn’t use his fighters. Joey only knew one Rodriguez, and he was not a “made” guy from the Mexican mafia, but an associate! Frankie supposedly said, “That’s the guy!”

  Frankie and Joey walked into Top Rank’s offices and met with Trampler, Cameron Dick Dunkin, and another manager, who was being squeezed by Frank Rodriguez. Frank asked Top Rank, “What do you want done?” Joey was chosen to threaten Rodriguez at the Anaheim Pond. Frankie called in Avi, another agent, to be added muscle.

  Joey and Cash arrived in Anaheim and were put up in suites by Top Rank. They left their guns in the room and didn’t tell anyone they were there. There was a knock at the door, and when they asked who it was, Frankie responded, “FBI.” Cash apparently didn’t take him seroiusly, as he laughed for the next few minutes.

  That evening, as the fights were going on, Joey and Cash walked into the arena and saw Trampler, Frankie, and Avi sitting near the velvet curtain leading into the tunnel. Joey and Cash sat down and made eye contact with the trio. In the ring were the two boxers, with Rodriguez in the red corner. When it was all over and Rodriguez started walking back through the curtain, Joey fell in behind him with Cash at his heels, startling Rodriguez. Joey supposedly asked, “Mr. Rodriguez, could I have a minute of your time?” Rodriguez turned and recognized Joey and saw Cash with his hand under his jacket. He smiled. “Sure,” keeping his back against the wall. Joey informed him, “You are not mob. I am. You are not shit and a minute away from getting taken out. You do not threaten Top Rank fighters, managers, or janitors. For good faith, you are going to sign over your fighter Salido to my cousin Frankie and Cameron Dunkin, right?” Cash tapped his arm to signal that security was walking up, and they split.

  Joey claims they again ran into a shaken Rodriguez as they were leaving the arena, fumbling with his car keys. Joey claims he put a gun in Rodriguez’s mouth and the following day, the U.S. Gov’t owned a lightweight boxer named Salido.

  Joey returned from yet another bail hearing with his attorney when he says Big Frankie did not sound like himself and supposedly told him “You better talk to your attorney. I think the FBI is going to screw you. Washington is being told shit about this. They do not understand being exposed on the streets like we do.”

  Joey still felt sure that he would not go back to prison. He had been paid over a quarter million dollars by the FBI. He had delivered countless recordings and other evidence. He was about to take a week off to check out property in Albuqerque and reconnect with Chris Baca and YDI. He met with Baca and accepted a job, figuring this would be his home when it was all over, his ego figured he wouldn’t need witness protection because he was “the only true gangster Top Rank ever knew.”

  Still collecting $6k per month from the FBI and $5k more from Top Rank for muscle and promotions, Joey sold a 6 month option for his movie rights for another $50k and started designing boxing gear for urban kids. Life seemed almost too good to be true. Joey was so confident that he did not even use any of this money to hire a better attorney and continued working with the public defender.

  He traded in his Benz for a Jeep Wrangler and went to see Verna in LA. She said the DA would not accept their deal, and it did not look good for Joey. For the previous week, the FBI was not taking his calls, and Frankie said, “Let’s see what happens at the hearing.” Joey stood numb when the Judge declared, “Denied. The order of December 19, 2001, granting the petition for coram nobis is denied and guilty plea reversed, and the defendant is re-sentenced for 25 years to life imposed.”

  Joey gets in his jeep and heads to visit a girlfriend in St. Louis, then continues, purchasing a ticket to Mexico to “go swimming with the dolphins in Cozumel.” But on Sept. 14, the clock runs out; his motion for a new trial is denied. Joey was supposed to be in LA to turn himself in two days later. Arriving at the Vegas airport, he looks for his connection. Then he sees a flight to Costa Rica and thinks “Screw it,” and heads to Central America.

  Joey’s logic was that the DA needed him to have a case. If
they send him back to prison, the FBI will have to present the audio tapes and contracts and admit they had a deal with him. It’s bad for Joey either way. He wanted to tell Verna about the FBI but was too ashamed. In hindsight, he figures he could have worked with her to secure his freedom.

  Yet another girlfriend, Pamela, picked him up at the airport in Costa Rica. Joey told her that while things didn’t look good for him, the FBI owed him $50,000, and they could build a life together in tropical paradise—surfing, tanning, knowing there was nowhere on earth to run. So Joey kept calling Frankie for his money, who said he was talking to people. Joey figured if he was sent back to prison, he was a dead man for sure.

  But at this point Schlumpf and Big Frankie had no allegiance left to Joey and were trying to help track him down to return him to prison. They fed his periodic requests for money to various law enforcement agencies hunting him down. He’s in Costa Rica. He’s in Mexico. He’s in Panama.

  In late October, Schlumpf and Frankie are in Washington, reviewing Operation Matchbook with their superiors, when they hear that Joey is back in Vegas. They fly back, but he is gone by the time they arrive.

  Joey had met with Trampler, not knowing if or when Bruce would know about the FBI and when the raids would begin. Trampler was aware of what happened in the court of appeals as he was speaking to Verna daily, trying to save Joey from going back to prison. Joey claims they schemed about a place to hide him but nothing came to mind.

  It seemed only a matter of time before the world would know that Joey had double-crossed Top Rank. Joey fled to Tijuana, where he sold his rental car and claims he walked off with a backpack, gun, $5,000, and a change of clothes. Joey spent the next two months of his 601 days of freedom on a Mexican bus from Mazatlan to Chiapas to Mexico City. His his passport had been revoked.

  Not knowing what to do and continuing to trust the FBI, Joey called Agent Schlumpf, and they agreed to meet at the Mirage Hotel. Joey feared it might be a setup and took a few shots of tequila before crossing the border from Tijuana.

  Joey expected to be shot in the back at any moment, having betrayed so many former allies. In classic Joey form, he blamed the FBI for his isolation. The only person he could think to tell about his FBI deal was Chris Baca but felt too ashamed in the end. Joey says he left his gun in a giant flower pot and took a taxi to Henderson’s Grass Valley Inn in Vegas. He went back to feeling the only safe place for him would be protective custody and that he had to trust the FBI.

  Joey claims that Trampler continued to send him money daily, still not knowing about his betrayal.

  Joey called Ken Hurdle, from the Department of Corrections as he drove up to the casino to meet Frankie. Joey told Ken everything over the course of an hour. Ken tried calling the FBI, Frankie, and his handler, hearing stories of violence, havoc, and other horrors. Joey decided to skip the meeting with Frankie and Ken promised to be in the court room and make sure that DOC put Joey out of state until the matter was cleared.

  Finally, in December, someone tipped off the Vegas police that Joey was in town to see Angie. He was sitting in his room at the Four Queens Hotel when the phone rings. Joey picks it up, but no one is there. A minute later, the door to his room exploded as a task force of FBI, Metro, ATF, and U.S. Marshalls point their guns at his head, laid him out on the floor, and carried him away. “Tell the FBI, ‘thanks for burning me,’” Joey screams.

  His bail revoked and returned to court, Joey spent Thanksgiving in the Las Vegas County Jail. Joey again called Ken Hurdle and Agent Schlumpf, asking to be put in protective custody.

  Joey was put in the TV day room of LA County Jail. A kid reading the paper looked up at him. He saw someone move to his right, then felt a pain in his neck. Joey pushed his way out of the room as the blood ran down. Joey fell and pulled a pencil from his neck.

  He was put into segregation but not allowed placement into protective custody because the LA County Jail sheriff couldn’t confirm his story with the FBI about his claims of assistance in Operation Matchbook. Joey stopped showing up for his media interviews, fearing each was a setup.

  Joey was taken to Norwalk Superior Court where he stood in the holding tank awaiting escort to the court room. Bailiff Rick appeared, shaking his head. Joey looked up at Judge Knupp, who was also shaking his head. Krupp sentenced Joey to life in prison and gave him credit for his 24 years served. He was released to California DOC.

  Joey arrived in Kern County where a lot had changed. He was treated like a new inmate with a new number and put in maximum security with a parole consideration of 2065. Joey wrote daily to Ken Hurdle, utilizing his prolific jailhouse hustling skills. Joey was sent to Mule Creek State Prison, Sensitive Needs Yard—not because of the FBI investigation and his undercover work, but because of his prior protective custody needs for saving the life of the female correctional officer.

  To date, the California DOC has not complied with Joey’s requests to be moved out of state or into witness protection. Because he was attacked, Lieutenant Rendon and Captain Dave Arnold eventually investigated his claims but he remains in California.

  A month after Joey went back to prison, the Feds pulled the plug on Operation Matchbook and on January 6, 2004, sixteen FBI agents raided Arum’s office, removing computers, medical records, fight tapes, boxer contracts, and financial documents.

  The warrant named Trampler, matchmaker Pete Susens, manager/agent Cameron Dunkin, and Sean Gibbons, who was fired later that month for reasons unspecified. Sean’s history of being investigated prior to his employment at Top Rank came to light as well as how he had come to be known the “Oklahoma Meat Packer.”

  When the Las Vegas Sun asked Oklahoma Department of Labor commissioner Brenda Reneau Wynn to elaborate on the allegations about Gibbons she emphatically said “Ugh.”

  Boxing columnist Katherine Dunn wrote: “Oklahoma state boxing regulators reported that an Oklahoma meat packer named Sean Gibbons … ran a revolving stable of bad-to-mediocre boxers who traveled the Midwest pretending to fight each other under phony names, creating fraudulent wins for fictitious fighters with ‘respectable’ records.”

  While it was difficult to prove many of the charges, it appeared that Sean had a history of bringing in bribed fighters to lose multiple times, fighting under multiple aliasses to bolster the rank of fighters he was trying to promote. Compounding the charges alleging that he would bring in fighters from Mexico, were those accusing him of calling in the border guards to send them home without pay.

  Investigator Skip Nicholson’s 26 page report alleges that Sean had “boxers using at least one other alias (sometimes three) and Social Security number, fraud, forgery and fight fixing.”

  Arum, who personally had risked the most to help Torrey with huge amounts of cash and offering him his first professional fight well into middle age, finally became bitter when he understood that the man he had gone out of his way to help had conned and betrayed him, but he still did not comment and kept his PR staff mostly silent on the matter.

  A spokesman for Top Rank did say the company “does not know the scope of the government’s investigation” but intended to continue “lawfully co-operating with it”.

  In a scene befitting of virtually everyone’s perspective and behavior in this scenario, Arum’s friend Bill Caplan paints Top Rank as the victim: “That’s all [Joey] was. He was a con artist,” said Caplan, a fight publicist. “Bob just wanted to give the guy a break. He paid thousands in expenses for him, knowing he would never make anything. He was just trying to give him a chance at having a new life.”

  Based on Frank Manzoni’s reports that he compiled with Joey’s help, police are now investigating allegations of fighters taking the ring under multiple aliases, soft match-ups to assist popular boxers and widespread “skimming” of fighters’ fees by Top Rank executives. De La Hoya and Esch fights were both put under scrutiny amid suspicions that—quite unknown to either of them—their opponents were bribed to be beaten.

  Even in Las Veg
as, a city built on a history of crime, the citizens were transfixed by the story of one of the most colourful police operations in the city’s history.

  19

  Joey says that the most common question he is asked is “What was the best experience in your two years of freedom?” Contrary to what you might expect from a man who endlessly partied on the FBI’s dime till the wee hours of the morning with cocaine and prostitutes, he claims it was “seeing the world at a lower level from hostel to hostel, bus to bus, and his final month in Mexico and South America.” And perhaps that’s true. Perhaps all of the excess was just his expression, yearning for something missing in his life.

  Eligible for parole since 1994, Joey has become increasingly bitter about his extended sentence and lack of prospects.

  And to this day he waffles back and forth between the mantra he repeated through B.A.D. and YDI, “reject the easy path of victimhood.” and, well, does exactly that, claiming that he is the victim of the FBI, the judicial system, the mob, and even the street gangs. He says “The decisions that you make today can and will matter in years to come, so why blame it on bullshit and stop being a victim.”

  But yet, as recently as 2012, as Joey watched three inmates be taken to the Parole Board for release, he again paints himself as the victim.

  Joey describes the situation as: “It was not the parole board that freed those men: No, it was that those inmates had family and money to be able to ‘pay’ for there loved one to be freed!” One of the men was denied for five years. He had no representation and was serving life for 3 strikes after being caught with one gram of cocaine.

  The other two had committed grisly crimes. One had served 15 years on a rape and murder, and another 18 years for killing his own daughter. They were all released.

  In the same wind, Joey blames his lack of family, his lack of representation, and his lack of cash as the reasons he hasn’t been freed. It’s as if he hasn’t read the clear legal briefs about why Pamela Frohrenrich went after him so fervently for so many years—that his lack of remorse, his distortion of the truth, and, yes, his twisting of the details of each situation to make himself appear as the victim.