Holes in Time: The Autobiography of a Gangster Frank J. Costantino © 1979 Library of Congress Catalog Number 79-89370 DEDICATION To Chaplain Max Jones who has the courage to put God first, and the salvation of lost souls as his primary goal. In the day of negative thinking about the role of the prison chaplain, Max Jones stands as a shining example of Christian faith at work behind prison walls. …and to all the staff and directors of Christian Prison Ministries and prison workers everywhere. …and to Dr. Richard Leoffler, Dr. Donald Brown, Curt Bock and Don Horton who believed in me from the very beginning. …and to my wife of 17 years, Cheryl, who went through the whole prison experience with me. FOREWARD Frank was a professional criminal. He deliberately decided to be a thief and a robber. With protection from the underworld, he preyed on the upper world. In eleven years he participated in robberies and thefts totaling eleven million dollars. All this he did with no qualms of conscience. He reasoned that bankers and businessmen stole with their pens. He stole with his guns. He saw no difference. On his first felony conviction he received a sentence of 22 years in prison. There he had plenty of time to think and to reason within himself. The inhumanity that he witnessed demanded that he find out what he wanted to be, a giver or a taker. He reached the conclusion that those who don’t care leave holes in time. His personal encounter with Christ in the office of Chaplain Max Jones settled all the issues. He had found the answer to life’s most important questions. This book is distinctly unique in taking you with Frank through the inner thought processes that led to a gangster becoming a dedicated Christian. Chaplain Ray Director, International Prison Ministry Dallas, Texas GLOSSARY Breaking bad: playing tough Chaser: guard Copping deuces: pleading his case Hack: guard Iron pile: weight-lifting equipment Offed: killed Piece: knife, weapon Stand-up guy: reliable person Stash: hiding place Sword: knife Touch-hog: tough guy INTRODUCTION “A very daring expose of prison life and one man’s battle with himself to find real meaning to life. I believe anyone will find this book thought provoking and brutally true, while at the same time warm and excitingly human. ‘Jesus is the answer, the only answer,’” says Max Jones, Chaplain in the Florida Penal system. Chaplain Jones, who was elected as Chaplain of the Year at the American Correctional Association of Congress of Corrections, 1976, has served in the Florida Penal system for the last 16 years. Through his ministry, some of the most hardened prisoners in this system have given their lives to Christ. The list includes Austin Brown, a former alcoholic who currently is serving as Chaplain at Florida State Prison, Jack (Murph the Surf) Murphy, and international jewel thief, Bob Earler, super cop from Hollywood, Florida, who was convicted as the “Catch Me Please Killer,” and the author, Frank Costantino, “a heavy weight criminal who stole millions.” BOOK 1 As told to John Caldwell Part I “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: For whatsoever a man soweth, That shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh Shall of the flesh reap corruption…” Galatians 6:7-8 Chapter 1 This was going to be my last big robbery. It would put me on easy street for the rest of my life. I’d been uneasy about it ever since we started out this evening. Not that good kind of concern that keeps a guy on his toes during a job but a deeper uneasiness that I’d ever known before. I racked it up to my promise to my wife, Bunny, to quit this business and so we moved in. Walking quickly along behind the expensive shops which lined Coral Gables’ Miracle Mile, we passed right by Adrian Thal’s Fur Salon, our ultimate goal. In a specially constructed vault inside that store hung some $5 million in furs. By tomorrow, they would be on a freighter headed for a market far away from Miami. In checking out the alarm system installed in Thal’s, we discovered there was no way of making direct entry into that building from the roof or alley. We couldn’t do it through Roal’s next door at 348 Miracle Mile either but Allan Abess Ltd., at number 340, was an easy entry. So that’s where we went in. We had a truck parked right across the street from the police station, which was only half a block away. In the alley behind the stores, it might have raised questions, especially on Easter morning. It was now eight o’clock on Saturday night and we planned to be loading by noon Easter Day. We had the walls between the three stores to go through and then we had to go through the roof of the vault which was free standing within the building. We wore black leather gloves, were armed, and carried star drills, chisels, saws, hammers and rubber mallets to soften the sound of the blows as we cut through the block walls between buildings. It was a cool job. No fuss, no place for slip-ups, carefully planned. We had blue prints of all three stores. We knew the ADT set ups. We knew where everybody who worked in all three stores was and where they would be until Monday morning. We knew the patrol schedules. We knew each other. We already had a buyer for the furs. The truck was waiting, the ship they would go out on was waiting. It was a cool job. That was my signature. It was a far cry from my first job. That netted me $500. I was fresh out of the Navy with a Bad Conduct Discharge, dirt poor, almost unemployable, with no skills and hungry for the “good life” I saw other guys living. I could see what went on in the world. I was walking around the edge of the Boston underworld. I saw that the guys who had it had it because they took it. I used to stand on the street corner and watch them go by in the back seats of their black Cadillac sedans, expressionless, exuding power and class, as if one of the hoods up front was a uniformed chauffeur. And I would kick the litter in the gutter with my beat up shoe with the hole in the sole and dream of scoring big. I wanted to be a gangster. Now some people wanted to be a doctor and some people wanted to be a lawyer but not me. I wanted to be a gangster and I wanted a Cadillac, not a T-Bird, I wanted a 4-door, black Cadillac and I wanted to be a gangster. I finally stepped out and made my first move. A robbery. Five hundred dollars. Boy! Did that feel good! My first score, I like the feeling of taking what I needed, doing something about where I was. I was doing what I had to do and I had $500. It was alive in my pocket. I felt good. The job had taken nerve – I had it. I went downtown and bough some leather Italian shoes and a silk suit and a white tie and went back down to the same corner I was hanging around on the day before. There’s something about nice threads, makes you feel together. The police got wind of the new money I had, the flash of the new threads and the heat came down. I got busted and sat around wondering who had ratted me out. I was still green but had it together, they wouldn’t get me to cop out. They’d never stick that rap on me. And I beat it. Scott free. And the guys I hung with, they thought I was cool too. I was a stand-up guy, I went to the station and told nothing, no one else got busted. I decided that the only problem I had was that I hadn’t established a prosperous image with the police. Once that was done, I thought, they wouldn’t hassle me. I’d be okay. Things were together. So I set my sights higher. That $500 had really made me feel good and it just stood to reason with me that if $500 had really made me happy, $1,000 would make me twice as happy. Now, I’m not a college graduate but that just made sense to me. Twice as happy. So I stole a thousand dollars. And I was absolutely right. It made me twice as happy. I was together, things were under control. We took turns cutting through the walls. The two guys who were with me, Lennie Feldman and Ralph Goodman were strong guys and we made good time. We found we couldn’t go through the ceiling of the vault, so by ten Easter morning, we were cutting through the door of the vault. Hidden in the door of the vault was a single, unmapped alarm connected directly to the police station. I was on the main floor at the back of the shop and looked out and there were police everywhere. I grabbed the phone in the office and called Bunny to tell her I was about to be arrested and she should call my attorney. When I got her and told her where I was she said o.k.