PENNY-PINCHER SPELLED END OF DRUG PIPELINE

Strange Tale Of Cocaine Smuggling, Car Troubles

When a New York state trooper stopped a taxi that had zipped through
a speed trap in the southbound lanes of Interstate 81, the driver
inside told the officer a curious story.

The cabbie said he was returning from Canada, where he had driven an
agitated, sweating passenger who had abandoned his car in a New York
village. It was a bizarrely long and lucrative 300-kilometre trip for
the cabbie, who marvelled at his good fortune that September day in 1993.

Discovering the unusual journey was a fortuitous encounter for police, as well.

It was the first thread to pull loose in what would be revealed as a
complicated tapestry: a plot by the Mafia and Hells Angels to smuggle
drugs from the United States into Canada using a native reserve
straddling the border.

It would take police four years to fully unravel it.

Despite the success of the probe, leading to stiff sentences on both
sides of the border, it has received little attention.

The man who masterminded the operation, however, was refused parole
this month, partly because of his extensive Mafia ties. Several
officials involved in the original case have since revealed to the
National Post how comical, Fargo-like slip-ups exposed the lucrative
drug pipeline and landed the traffickers in prison.

"If they hadn't been so darned cheap, they probably would not have
gotten caught," said Richard Southwick, the U.S. government attorney
who prosecuted the case.

At the time, the name Girolamo Sciortino meant nothing to American
investigators. In Canada, however, Sciortino had been noted in police
files not only because of a criminal record dating back to 1973 --
with convictions for running an illegal gambling operation and then
for drug trafficking--but because of the company he kept.

Sciortino was born in 1941 in Cattolica Eraclea, a Mafia stronghold
in western Sicily. In Montreal's underworld, there is no better
calling card because the remote Italian village has produced almost
all of the men whom police allege are the leaders of the powerful
Montreal Mafia.

In 1995, Sciortino's name was again noted in police intelligence
files when his son, Bernardo, married the only daughter of Vito
Rizzuto, the man named by the Canadian government as the Godfather of
the Montreal Mafia. His son's lavish nuptials came two years after
Sciortino had hired a man to drive a rental car to Houston to collect
duffel bags stuffed with cocaine but two years before he found out
that he had not gotten away with it.

The courier's run from Texas with 40 kilograms of cocaine, a nearly
$1-million load at that time, started smoothly, although with no one
hired to share the driving he was popping pills to stay awake during
the around-the-clock road trip.

State after state, he made his way north. Pill after pill he drew
closer to home.

Then his rental car broke down in Falling Waters, West Virginia, a
bedroom community along the Potomac River that has not seen much
action since Union cavalry charged through during the American Civil War.

Desperate to get back into Canada, the courier went looking for the
cheapest replacement he could find. At a local car lot, he settled on
an old Plymouth Gran Fury for US$300 and moved the bags of dope into the trunk.

This car, however, was in little better shape than the rental vehicle.

About six hours and 570 kilometres later -- tired, wired and paranoid
- -- the courier pulled the Gran Fury into a handicapped parking space
outside Wilborn's Restaurant, a diner in Central Square, N.Y., that
is known for its around-the-clock breakfasts.

Apparently, when he returned to the car it would not start. That was
when he flagged the taxi.

Before the cabbie agreed to drive the man to Cornwall, he made the
man show him that he had the cash to pay the fare -- about $350. He
did and off they drove, with the man muttering and anxious most of
the way, the cabbie later told the state trooper.

With barely 1,500 residents at the time, the village of Central
Square was not known for its big spenders, but its easy highway
access often brought strangers through town. Suspicious of such an
odd taxi ride, the trooper drove by Wilborn's and found a Gran Fury
parked in the restaurant's only handicapped spot. Asking inside, the
trooper was told by staff that the car did not belong to any customer.

Police towed it and uncovered the drugs.

"They realized pretty quickly that with 40 kilos in the trunk
somebody would be coming back for the ca r," Mr. Southwick said.

Police put the Gran Fury back in the parking space and secretly
watched it. A car with Ontario licence plates soon drove into the lot
and cruised slowly around it before stopping. Someone got out, looked
at the Gran Fury -- but did not touch it -- and then left. Police still waited.

Not long after, a tow truck from the St. Regis reserve arrived,
hoisted the car and set off with it. Police moved in but the driver
knew nothing of the drugs.

The 40-kilo seizure was the largest ever in the area. It is still
remembered by long-time staff and customers at the diner, said Lisa
Lozipone, who was a young waitress at Wilborn's back then but is now
a co-owner.

While the locals gossiped, New York State police and the RCMP
launched a major investigation, code-named Project Office.

The drugs were traced to the Travelodge Motel in Cornwall, run by
Giuseppe "Joe" Sicurella. Drugs were being sold from the hotel in
conjunction with associates of the Hells Angels Motorcycle Club,
according to investigators. Wiretaps were placed on several telephone
lines and police followed drug dealers. Investigators then connected
Sicurella to Sciortino in Montreal.

Police also learned of another cocaine shipment being arranged -- 27
kilos from New York City destined for delivery in Montreal.

Officers tracked the load to the Akwesasne/St. Regis native reserve,
where it had been driven by a hired courier to the U.S. side of the
reserve. There it was loaded onto a boat to cross the St. Lawrence
River to the Canadian side and moved into another car for the drive
to Montreal-- without ever passing through border controls.

Near the end of that journey, however, police lost sight of the load
- -- and it disappeared into the city.

With the drugs lost, investigators concentrated on the money
earmarked to pay for it. Police had more luck following the cash than
the cocaine: Officers caught Sicurella giving US$200,000 to
Sciortino, according to officials.

Both were arrested, along with close to a dozen co-accused.

Named as the ringleaders, Sciortino and Sicurella faced serious
charges in Canada and the United States, leading to an unusual joint
prosecution.

"We had a very strong case. They came down and they pled. We had them
good and they took lengthy sentences," said Mr. Southwick.

Sciortino pleaded guilty, three months apart, in both countries. He
was handed 12? years in Canada and 10 years in the United States for
the cocaine conspiracy.

"He was permitted to serve his sentence for both in Canada," said Tom
Raganold, a Canadian prosecutor who handled the case. "He was
Canadian, his family was in Canada and he wanted to serve his sentence here."

It remains a significant and memorable case for investigators.

"It was a real eye-opener at the time to see how organized crime used
the Cornwall area to import drugs into our country," said Sergeant
Christian Richard, an RCMP officer who worked on the case. "It was
one of the first international cases down in the Cornwall area that
really put it on the map with respect to organized crime," he said.

While the details of Sciortino's crime have not been publicly known,
the National Parole Board did not forget the seriousness of it.

"According to information supplied by police, you were far more
involved in drug trafficking than you led people to believe," the
parole board told Sciortino this month. "You are affiliated as a
member of the Montreal Mafia," the board's decision record says,
which also notes Sciortino's "strong denials."

"You insist that your crimes had nothing to do with the clan," the record says.

The board said Sciortino, who has run Montreal restaurants and
sandwich shops, seems to have carefully chosen crime as his business,
"out of contempt for legal and social norms."

"Your turning to illicit activities was a life choice, taken in the
course of business dealings where you did a cost-benefit analysis
before committing yourself unconditionally," the board said.

Also working against Sciortino at his parole hearing was the fact
that, while imprisoned, he was convicted again for more drug
offences. He was also late returning to prison from a temporary
absence, but was good enough to call ahead to alert the warden. When
he arrived he was carrying a cup of coffee, which was seized by guards.

Notwithstanding, his behaviour in prison has been good, the board notes.

The board, however, said Sciortino would likely re-offend if the
opportunity presented itself and declined to grant him early release.