Frank Costello once told his lawyers that he would rather lose his case than wear cheap clothes. When his legal team suggested he trade his expensive suits for off-the-rack options to appear more relatable during trial, he dismissed the idea, saying: “I’m sorry, counselor, but I’d rather blow the goddamn case. ”
That devotion to image defined Costello, a man who moved through the criminal underworld with a tailor’s care and a politician’s instincts. While other mob bosses courted Hollywood stars, Costello built his power in a different arena entirely: politics.
It has been said that no crime boss held more politicians and judges in his pocket, and he treated them as his most valuable asset, funding campaigns, boosting voter turnout, and collecting favors at the most opportune moments. His network of influence earned him the nickname the Prime Minister of the Underworld. Costello was born Francesco Castiglia on January 26, 1891, in Lauropoli, a tiny hamlet in the Calabria region of Italy. He was the youngest child of Luigi and Maria Castiglia, who also had an older son and four daughters.
In 1895, Luigi left for America with some of the older children, and just months later, Maria sold everything the family owned and sailed for New York with the rest, including four-year-old Francesco. The family settled in East Harlem, in the Little Italy of that era. Luigi worked as a laborer while Maria ran a store selling traditional Italian products. Crime bosses of that time controlled rackets within individual neighborhoods, and young Frank got an early glimpse of the underworld.
A woman named Pasquarella Spinelli ran a horse stable near the family home, using it as a front to buy and sell stolen horses. Local lore nicknamed the place the murder stable, with claims that criminals buried victims on the property. There is no evidence that Costello ever worked for her, but he witnessed plenty of illicit dealings. Costello turned to petty theft as a teenager.
He was arrested in 1908 on an extortion attempt, but the charges were dismissed. Another arrest followed in 1912, again without serious consequences. His luck ran out in 1915, when at 24 he served almost a year in prison for carrying a concealed gun. From then on, he rarely carried a weapon, building a reputation as a relatively amicable figure in his line of work.
It remains uncertain if he ever actually killed anyone. He much preferred corruption and influence to violence, although he remained connected to violent acts through the men who did the dirty work for him. During his early twenties, Costello ran with a gang led by a man named Morello. There he met two future partners who would reshape organized crime in America: Lucky Luciano and Meyer Lansky.
Prohibition proved a massive windfall for criminals across the country, and Costello jumped into bootlegging while running gambling and extortion on the side. Even then, his specialty was contacts. While his partners handled operations, Costello greased the right palms and kept everyone paid and happy. In the late 1920s, the formation of the National Crime Syndicate helped smooth relations among different ethnic criminal organizations, but the American Mafia still suffered internal turmoil.
Ambitious men vied for the title of capo di tutti capi, boss of all bosses. The conflict came to a head during the Castellammarese War of 1931, when Joe Masseria and Salvatore Maranzano fought for supremacy. Both were betrayed by Costello, Luciano, and other younger mobsters who wanted a more modern structure. Masseria was killed first, then Maranzano a few months later.
Afterward, Luciano and the other major mobsters formed the Commission: a ruling body overseeing mafia activity across the country and mediating disputes. It consisted of the seven most powerful Italian families, including the five New York families, the Buffalo crime family, and the Chicago Outfit run by Al Capone. The Luciano family was the largest, led by Luciano himself with Vito Genovese as underboss and Frank Costello as consigliere. Costello ran multiple rackets as consigliere, but none were more profitable than his slot machine business.
At its peak, he had roughly 25,000 machines across New York and neighboring states. They were technically classified as candy machines since they dispensed a mint on a losing pull. The grift worked well for a couple of years until 1934, when Fiorello LaGuardia won the New York mayoral election on an anti-corruption platform. LaGuardia declared war on slot machines and had them smashed and dumped into Long Island Sound.
It was a heavy blow for Costello, though he recovered somewhat by securing a deal to bring slot machines to Louisiana. A much larger setback came in 1936 when Luciano was convicted of running a prostitution ring and sentenced to 30 to 50 years in prison. Genovese became acting boss, but fled to Italy a year later to avoid a murder indictment. That left Frank Costello in charge of the Luciano crime family, even with Lucky still giving orders from behind bars.
Costello expanded his gambling and bookmaking operations with partners like Meyer Lansky, Bugsy Siegel, and Tony Accardo. His political connections made him invaluable. It has often been claimed, though never definitively proven, that Costello even had FBI director J. Edgar Hoover in his pocket, which may explain why Hoover denied the existence of the mafia for decades.
According to one common rumor, Hoover liked to bet on horses, and Costello gave him tips on fixed races while Hoover used agents to place large bets on his behalf. A more salacious story claimed that Costello and Lansky possessed incriminating photographs of Hoover. Luciano, meanwhile, still hoped for early release. That opportunity appeared in February 1942, when the SS Normandie caught fire and capsized while docked at New York’s Pier 88.
The government feared Nazi sabotage and launched Operation Underworld, an uneasy alliance with the mafia to protect the docks, limit black market theft, and prevent labor strikes. Luciano cooperated in exchange for an early release. He left prison in 1946, but the U. S.
government deported him back to Italy instead of freeing him in America. Costello remained acting boss during those years with his cousin Willie Moretti as underboss, but he was about to face two serious threats: one from the government and one from inside the mafia. The internal threat came from Vito Genovese. After fleeing to Italy during the war, he befriended the fascists, allegedly even orchestrating hits in America on their behalf.
When the tide turned, he switched sides but ended up arrested by U. S. military police for running a smuggling ring. Officials then discovered he was wanted for murder in America, and in 1945 he was sent back to New York to stand trial.
The case collapsed after two witnesses were killed, and the charges were dropped. In 1946, Genovese was a free man again, and he wanted his old position back. But Costello sat at the head of the table and had no intention of moving. The power struggle escalated in December of that year when Luciano, unable to return to America, organized a meeting in Cuba.
The Havana Conference brought all the important mobsters together to discuss the most pressing issues of the day. Genovese arrived early and allegedly met with Luciano privately. He suggested getting rid of Albert Anastasia, the notoriously violent head of his own crime family, who was also a powerful ally to Costello. Then Genovese suggested that Luciano should retire and cede control of the family to him.
Luciano responded poorly to both proposals. During the meeting itself, he reaffirmed his position as chairman of the Commission, and he made Genovese and Anastasia shake hands in front of the other mobsters. Costello remained at Luciano’s side and continued serving as acting boss. The American government soon discovered that Luciano had left Italy for Cuba.
He blamed Genovese, suspecting that his former underboss had tipped off the authorities. According to Luciano’s later biography, he called Genovese to his room, beat him, and broke three of his ribs, leaving him bedridden for three days. Cuba eventually arrested and deported Luciano back to Italy, where he lived under stricter surveillance for the rest of his life. His next trip to America would be in a coffin.
Luciano’s influence waned from Italy, and other mobsters sensed that his time was over. Genovese’s most powerful ally was Carlo Gambino, who wanted Anastasia’s position while Genovese wanted what Costello had. To complicate matters further, 1951 brought the first major federal investigation into the American mafia: the Kefauver Hearings, named after Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver. Over 600 witnesses testified, including Meyer Lansky, Mickey Cohen, and Tony Accardo.
The most iconic image of the hearings featured Frank Costello, whose refusal to answer many questions led him to walk out at one point. He was charged with contempt and sentenced to 18 months in prison, with five more years added for tax evasion. With time spent out on bail pending appeals, Costello spent most of the first half of the 1950s behind bars. His incarceration gave Genovese his opening.
He moved against Costello’s allies rather than making a direct move on Costello himself. First came Willie Moretti, Costello’s underboss, who controlled much of the family’s muscle. Moretti suffered from advanced syphilis, affecting his mental faculties and causing incoherent rambling. Genovese persuaded other bosses that Moretti had become a liability.
On October 4, 1951, Moretti was having lunch at Joe’s Elbow Room in New Jersey when an unidentified gunman entered and shot him repeatedly in the head and face. Costello’s position worsened in 1956 when another key ally, Joe Adonis, voluntarily moved back to Italy rather than serve a lengthy prison sentence. When Costello got out of prison, his position had weakened considerably, enough for Genovese to decide it was time to take him out. On May 2, 1957, Costello entered the lobby of his Manhattan apartment building.
A large stranger waited behind a pillar and shouted, “This is for you, Frank. ” Costello turned as the man fired, striking him in the head. The gunman fled in a black Cadillac, apparently unaware that the bullet had only grazed Costello’s head, leaving a superficial wound. Costello survived, but he understood the message: if it happened once, it would happen again.
A few months later, his last ally, Albert Anastasia, was not so lucky. On October 25, 1957, the Mad Hatter sat in the barber’s chair at the Park Sheraton Hotel with a towel over his head. Two gunmen entered and shot him ten times. Carlo Gambino took over his family and renamed it after himself.
The writing was on the wall for Costello. His allies were dead, and Luciano could only watch helplessly from Italy. He had lost the war with Genovese. His saving grace was his strict adherence to omerta, the code of silence.
The shooter was ostensibly identified as Vincent “The Chin” Gigante, an enforcer who would later become a family boss and was presumably working on Genovese’s orders. But in court, Costello refused to identify him, saying he had never seen the man in his life. Gigante was acquitted. Genovese became the new head of the family, renamed after him, and adopted the moniker Don Vito.
In return for his silence, Costello was allowed to retire, keeping his legitimate businesses and some gambling operations as sources of income. No other attempts were made on his life. Though he was no longer a boss, Costello retained plenty of respect and influence. His decades of connections and favors still proved useful to other mobsters seeking assistance.
He remained involved with the mafia in one way or another until his death from a heart attack in 1973, at age 82.