Wired: 2009 Part 1, A Book by Paul Caranci
Monday, May 22, 2017
Each week, GoLocalProv will publish a chapter of the book Wired: The Shocking True Story of Political Corruption and the FBI Informant Who Risked Everything to Expose It, by Paul Caranci.
The book details how Caranci gambled his thirty-year political career, his reputation, and his family’s safety in his quest to restore good, honest government to a community that needed it most by going undercover with the FBI for 17 months to exposed corruption.
Buy the book by CLICKING HERE
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MEETING THE FBI
“You wear a wire in this town, you’re dead.”
~Sam Riddle
Detroit political consultant
I am somewhat of a regular at Panera Bread. I conduct meetings at their various locations or simply relax with family or friends there. While I generally frequent the café in Smithfield, I also feel very comfortable at the facility in Cranston. On Tuesday January 20, 2009, I was anything but comfortable as Margie and I pushed our way through the glass doors of the café in search of Jim Pitcavage. Jim stands about 6’ tall, has blue eyes, a solid frame and a short haircut that offers more than a hint that he might be a federal agent. More personable than I expected, Jim exuded professionalism. He tried hard, albeit unsuccessfully, to make me feel at ease. The truth is that I had butterflies in my stomach for over a week and on this day I thought the anxiety might cause me to lose lunch.
I handed Jim about seven or eight pages of notes that I had prepared outlining all the grievances with the mayor and some of the Council members. After scanning my notes, Jim focused on one project in particular - a proposed Stop & Shop development by Churchill Banks that involved a zone change and an amendment to the Comprehensive Plan. That issue was scheduled to come before the Town Council for a vote on February 10th, less than three weeks hence and Jim sensed the need for the swiftness of action.
I tried to bring his attention to the Lowe’s wall and other issues that I felt were of greater relevance, but each time I did so his comments reverted to the zone change. “Tell me more about this,” he insisted. I told him that I suspected there was a payoff involved in the project because I recognized the defensive posturing that John Zambarano used to justify an indefensible vote when there appeared to be benefit to him. I explained how “Zam” had acted that same way when he attempted to justify his position on other issues that I considered poor policy. “But do you have any proof,” he asked, “anything concrete other than a gut feeling?” I reluctantly told him of a conversation that was overheard while several members of the Council attended a National League of Cities Conference in Orlando, Florida in November 2008. I had tried to avoid mention of that conversation since I had only second-hand knowledge of it. I was convinced that my suspicions accompanied by my pages of notes and grievences would be enough for the FBI to act.
I asked Jim if he could proceed without mentioning how I learned of that conversation. He told me he couldn’t make any promises but would try. Before adjourning, Jim asked me to reduce our conversation regarding the Stop & Shop proposal to writing and our session ended with an agreement to meet again on Friday January 23rd.
The Second Meeting with the FBI
At the second meeting I provided the requested summary and Jim told me that his supervisors felt that there was enough information to authorize an investigation. To my chagrin, the investigation would focus on Churchill Banks' Stop & Shop proposal because it was happening in real time. The past transgressions, Jim explained, can be dealt with at any time because they are a matter of historical record already.
Jim explained that what was needed was an admission from John Zambarano that there was indeed a quid-pro-quo regarding the Council vote on the Stop & Shop proposal. He would work with me, but it would be my responsibility to obtain that taped admission. My discomfort must have been obvious because Jim tried to downplay the significance of the act. His reassurances aside, I was extremely uncomfortable. I’m sure I was able to control my shaking to the point where it wasn’t too noticeable to Margie or Jim, but inside I was a trembling mess! I offered alternatives, such as the FBI getting a court ordered wiretap on the cell phones of the three councilmen. But without hard evidence, he explained, no court would grant such an order. This was the only way, he told me, and we had to act quickly because I would be away at a work-related conference from February 5th-9th. With the Council scheduled to vote on February 10th, I essentially needed to get all the incriminating conversations on tape before I left for the conference. I had less than two weeks to convince Zambarano that he should allow me to become part of his scheme while gaining enough of his confidence to speak about it with me candidly.
The Lowe's Fallout Continues
While the work with the FBI was just starting, the discussions regarding the Lowe’s development were ongoing. On Friday, January 23rd, a series of e-mails were exchanged between Rockwell Street residents Janice Pucci, Dr. Everett Federici, me, and Zachary Darrow, an attorney for the Lowe’s project. In several e-mails to Pucci, Darrow denied that there were any changes to the location of the wall. “Mrs. Pucci,” Darrow wrote in one e-mail, “I have heard the same story regarding the retaining wall. That said I have confirmed with Lowe's as recently as this week that they have not relocated the wall. I am not sure where the Breeze obtained its facts from...” “That is not the case,” he wrote in another, “I will check with Milton [Baxter], but in fact the wall has not been moved.”
I had seen enough! I shot an e-mail back to Zac Darrow with a synopsis of events leading up to the request for, and granting of, the Rockwell Street easement emphasizing that it was the Lowe's representative that initially noted the relocation of the wall. Darrow responded,
“I can assure you that the entire process, including any changes to the plans, were all done in accordance with applicable regulations (including public hearings before Town Boards and required Staff reviews. You ask if plans were changed from a public informational forum – I would always assume that they were (emphasis mine). Taking drawings from a conceptual set to a permit set includes further engineering and review and comment by the Town Boards and Staff. This is always the case in such developments – the process, as you know, being concept, to permit, to construction. Notwithstanding that, I do not recall any redesign of the site during this process that impacted the location of the retaining wall along Rockwell Street. Again, I am not the engineer and, as previously mentioned, I do not have the plans with me, but I know that any changes that were made were all done in accordance with the established processes for the Town.”
This to me constituted an admission that what was discussed at the public forums may not constitute the final plan that goes to development. The problem as I saw it was a lack of communication of any of those changes that may have occurred between the initial hearings and the final plan. I responded to Darrow,
“I would appreciate if you would document the location of the wall when you have had an opportunity to review the plans. (In fact, it would be good to actually receive a copy of the plans.) However, if Mr. Baxter was correct, there was a major change in the location of the wall from the point of the initial presentations to the residents, and the meetings at which Planning or Zoning Board approval was granted. This would not constitute an insignificant alteration, but a major material change that would have a significant negative impact on the surrounding property values and the overall quality of life for all those impacted by the construction. I have significant concerns as to the ability of the street to structurally support a vertical wall of this size without causing a problem that might negatively impact the safety of the residents of the area or anyone that travels Rockwell Avenue.”
It was at this point that I received what I considered a curious and totally inappropriate e-mail from Rocco Gesualdi, Lombardi's Director of Administration. Dated Sunday, January 25th the note sent from Genualdi's Blackberry Smartphone read,
“Councilman you are venturing into territory that you have absolutely no knowledge of. It is quite clear from your statements and accusations that you have no idea as to how the process works. In fact, your ignorance of the issue has jeopardized a planned and approved project that the Town and its taxpayers desperately need. I hope that through the efforts of the Mayor and the remaining Town councilmen that we can undo the damage that you have caused to the town's taxpayers.”
I was incredulous and even more convinced that there was a problem with the project. Perhaps I've only touched the surface. Why would Rocco Gesualdi, a person who had not even been party to the e-mail string, get involved with this discussion? Why would asking questions about potential alterations from the plan discussed with the residents and the final approved plans from the Planning Board jeopardize the project? It seemed to me that someone from Lowe's must have informed Gesualdi of what was being said in the e-mails and that information, once exposed, could have a negative impact on the continuation of the project. Clearly, there was more research required on the behind-the-scenes actions of this project.
In an effort to spark a dialogue that might provide some information, I fired off an e-mail reply to Gesualdi’s curious admonishment. “While I appreciate your sentiments,” I wrote, “you need to understand that the will of the people of this town still matters. The position of councilman imparts a fiduciary responsibility to those who hold the office. This responsibility requires that each councilman individually and the body as a whole do their due diligence to ensure that the health, safety and welfare of the people they serve is protected…I fully understand the government process as it applies to these matters. I also presume that we both share concern for the quality of life of the people of North Providence and each do our respective part to represent only the best interest of the people that we both serve.”
The e-mail was like a short novel at a page and a half of single spaced text. It was detailed in expressing my concerns and closed with this warning; “Don’t be fooled into confusing my desire to cooperate with you as a sign of weakness. That would be a mistake. I will take any action legally available to me to support the interest of the neighbors on this project and in all future matters that come before me as a member of the town council. I would hope that in that regard our interests do not conflict.”
While the letter adequately expressed my misgivings about the project it failed to entice any further correspondence between us.
Becoming Part of the Conspiracy
Special Agent Jim Pitcavage arrived at my home with Special Agent Matt Knight, at 6:00 p.m. on Sunday evening January 25th. They provided a cassette tape recorder, blank cassette tapes and an earpiece to record phone conversations. After instructing me in the nuances of the recorder's use, they coached me on what to say to John Zambarano during our conversation. Even though I was sitting in the security of my own dining room, with the protection of two FBI agents, I trembled as I punched Zambarano’s number on my cell phone. “Hi John, it’s Paul.” After some small talk I continued, “Hey listen; things have been a little tough financially trying to pay two mortgages and all. Real estate is very slow and I could sure use some extra money.” John was unusually silent, not knowing where the conversation was taking him. “I heard what you said in Florida about hoping to get the money by Christmas and I was wondering if I could join you in the Stop & Shop deal. I’m really tired of fighting with everyone on the council anyway.” “I don't know what you're talking about,” John interrupted. I repeated, “I overheard what you said in Florida and was wondering if I could get in on the deal with you.” John paused then said again, “What are you talking about?” His hesitancy told me that he knew more than he was letting on. I continued to press, “You know, the conversation you had in Florida when we were having drinks. (I pretended to be present when the conversation took place realizing that Zambarano, after having a few drinks probably didn’t remember whether or not I was there.)
You said you hoped the Stop & Shop project would be approved in December because you were counting on that money for Christmas. I’m tired of always being on the outs with the three of you and I could really use some of that money myself. I have a lot of expenses trying to maintain two houses and all. Why can’t you guys include me in this stuff…you turn a blind eye here and there. …I’m willing to do that…just do me a favor…when there are issues like this where, you know, we can…we can take something – cut me in – consider me. Instead of leaving me out in the cold and …and then I’m always the guy that has to make the noise. I’d rather be part of the group than against everybody all the time…So, you know, if there’s something there I’m willing to look the other way, to bend, to shut up, to throw a vote here and there.”
Another long pause, then the confirmation we needed. “I don’t see why not. Let me talk to the others. I'll get back to you.” “Thanks John,” I said, “I’ll wait for your call.”
I know I was visibly trembling now! Jim and Matt listened to the message and agreed that the conversation seemed to reinforce the notion that there was definitely something going on. Now I just had to wait for Zambarano, Burchfield and Douglas to give me the OK to work with them.
Before leaving the agents handed me a second recording device. This one was a small, inch and a half square; silver metallic piece with an ear attachment and two very small, red buttons, one to activate and one to deactivate the device. It was certainly not recognizable as a recorder. They instructed me on its use and told me to carry it with me all the times and record any conversations that I had with any of the three councilmen. It was very difficult to determine which was the “on” and which was the “off” button. In fact, without my glasses, I simply couldn't tell which button was which. Worse, I could barely tell even with my glasses. It was even harder to see the near microscopic red light that appeared briefly when the device was activated. I'm a “technoputz” by nature and have never been very good with electronics even when I can see things clearly. I'm the guy who still can't set the clock on my VCR, DVD player or on my car radio. I was concerned that I might screw up the operation of this recorder and that really stressed me.
I was somewhat comforted when Jim told me that I was not allowed to activate or deactivate the device myself. I could use it only when he was able to do that. Otherwise I needed to use the cassette recorder when Jim was not able to be with me.
Although I told Zambarano that I would wait to hear from him, Jim was pushing me to initiate the 2nd call, which I did on Tuesday, January 27th. John was seemingly annoyed and said that he hadn’t spoken to the others yet but would call me when he did. I reminded him that I was leaving for Washington on February 5th and wouldn’t return until the day of the meeting so I would need to get an answer before that. If not, I was prepared to speak against the project because I honestly believe that it will have a negative impact on the town. Once I speak against it, there’s no going back. He promised to call.
Don’t Take Your Coat Off
On Wednesday, January 28th, the long awaited meeting regarding the Lowe’s wall was held. In preparation I met with Jim and yet another FBI special agent, Kimberly Lawrence, in the parking lot of the Dunkin Donuts just down Smith Street from the State House. I took an immediate liking to Kimberly. I found her unassuming and, perhaps because she was an attractive woman, disarming. I just felt comfortable with her. I teased her with references to Clarice, the FBI agent played by Jodi Foster in the Anthony Hopkins movie “Silence of the Lambs.” While none of the targets of this investigation were the likes of Hannibal Lecture, there were times that the portion of my brain that controls fear apparently couldn’t make the distinction. This was one of those times.
I was nervous about using the pocket-recording device for a few reasons. First, it was my first time recording a face-to-face meeting. Second, I had never been to the new Police Annex building (the former Chinese Restaurant that the town purchased) and I wasn’t sure if there was a metal detector that I would have to pass through. Finally, I wasn’t sure that I could pull off the entire discussion without my body language giving away the fact that I was recording it.
Jim told me to just act natural, and, if the device were discovered, to say that I was having trouble with my computer and this was a device given me by the computer repair company to download the contents of my hard drive. I felt better just having an excuse in the event that I had to pass through a metal detector that might expose the device. Jim instructed me to remove my winter overcoat as soon as I entered the room so there would be fewer layers of cloths for the sound to travel through before reaching the recorder. He activated the recording device. I dropped it into the pocket of my white, oxford dress shirt and was off.
To my relief there was no metal detector when I entered the Annex. I was escorted down the hall to the conference room where all the others were already assembled and began to peel off my coat when Chief of Staff Dick Fossa said in a stern voice, “Don’t take your coat off.” Oh shit, I thought, he knows! “Well you can take it off,” he said, “but don’t sit. I want to talk to you in the other room.” I let out an internal sigh and followed Dick and Director of Administration, Rocco Gesualdi, into another office. Rocco closed the door behind me. If there weren’t so many people around I would have thought sure that this was a hit! Dick began, “Zam said that you want to work with us. We don’t have a problem working with you, but it seems every time you’re at a council meeting you bust our balls.” He picked up a pencil and drew a line on a piece of paper. “You see this line,” he said pointing to the paper, “I don’t cross this line. I know things about you that I could talk about, but I don’t cross that line.” I shot a quizzical look at him as I tried to figure out what he could be talking about. “Yea,” he said, “I know about the suits you took from Bob Barbato in exchange for information about an appraisal when you worked at Solid Waste Management Corporation, but I wouldn’t talk about that. But if you’re going to continue to bust our balls…” I interrupted quite angrily, “You have no idea what you’re talking about. First of all, I don’t bust your balls at the council meetings. It was you, not me, who made the public statement even before Charlie took office that when you address the council you’re talking to six people, not seven, because Paul Caranci is dead to me. Unfortunately you take any question about one of your policies as ball busting when I am really just trying to get information that I need to make a decision.” I took the time to explain that I was given the suits as compensation for a real estate deal that I put together for North Providence clothier and real estate developer Bob Barbato. Several years ago Barbato had asked me to help find a buyer for a large parcel of real estate he owned. The land was zoned for the construction of a medical waste incinerator and Barbato had secured the permits required for its construction. As compensation for finding a willing buyer Barbato offered me a six figure commission. I did in fact secure a willing buyer from New York that made a full price offer to purchase the property. Barbato decided however to reject the offer and keep the property for himself. Because I fulfilled my end of the arrangement by securing the buyer, Barbato offered me several suits as alternate compensation.
This was a legitimate business deal and I told Fossa that I had nothing to hide. “If you believe I did something wrong then go to the authorities. I don’t have a problem if you do.” With that I left the room and headed off to join the others at the meeting that was already underway. I wondered though why Zambarano would tell Fossa that I wanted to work with them. In trying to insert myself into the “conspiracy” I told Zambarano that I wanted to work with the others involved in the shakedown operation. I was referring to Burchfield and Douglas. Was the conspiracy actually more inclusive than what I was led to believe? There was little time to think of the implications of this conversation however as I needed to join the meeting.
Four Rockwell Street residents listened as Planning Director Leo Bernadino pointed to large maps strewn across the conference table and explained how the location of the retaining wall never changed from its location in the plans originally approved by the Inspections Division. I noted how the maps did not reflect what was told to the residents at the public hearings. Bernadino agreed that other things might have been promised, but noted that all that was important is the plan that was actually approved. And the approved plans did not change. He espoused the virtues of the project as presented, all the while under the watchful eye of mayor Lombardi and his entourage. The neighbors expressed their satisfaction with what they were being told. With the neighbor’s acquiescence to the approved plan the conference ended. I was still skeptical, but the more immediate task was to talk to Zambarano.
John motioned for me to meet him in the hallway where he informed me that he still had not spoken to the others and didn’t know if he would have an answer for me before I left for Washington DC. He promised to call me whenever he got the word. I left the building and drove back to the Dunkin Donuts where I met Jim and Kimberly. Jim deactivated the recorder and I explained all that took place as Jim dutifully took notes.
The Big Call and a Blown Assignment
It was while I was in my hotel room in Washington DC that Zambarano finally called. My hands shook when I saw his name displayed across my phone screen. John’s delivery was cryptic. “Paul,” he said, “this is John. When you get home on Monday give me a call. We’ll get together, take a ride and talk.” That was it. No pleasantries, no ranting, just the simple instructions. Very un-John-like I thought! I wasn’t sure what to make of it so I tried to re-play the conversation. It was then that I discovered that in my haste to turn the cassette recorder on I must have hit only the “play” rather than the “play and record” button. The tape was blank. I didn’t know what to do or how to tell Jim of the gaff without him thinking me an idiot?
Worse than that, I was unsure of the destination Zambarano had in mind during that ride he alluded to. What if he drives me to Richard Baccari’s office and I’m discovered wearing a wire? Now I wasn’t just nervous, I was scared.
I called Jim and told him that I was in public when the call came and didn’t have the opportunity to record the conversation. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the news. “That’s OK,” he said. “We’re going to want to fit you with a small video camera, one that will fit in the button of your shirt.” But at this point I could think of nothing except the “ride” and the potential to be caught wearing the wire. For the first time I thought of the serious danger that I might be in. I felt sick and dreaded my return home.
Wired for Sight and Sound
Two days later, on February 9th, I called John to let him know that my flight would be late and I would meet him at 8:00 p.m. He opted instead to meet me at the Dunkin Donuts on Smith Street at 8:30 causing me to think that we wouldn’t take a ride after all.
My flight arrived at T.F. Green Airport at 6:30 where Margie met me for the drive home. I tried not to look nervous so as not to frighten her, but I was trembling thinking about what was to come. Jim and Special Agent Jeff Cady arrived at my house at about 7:15 and handed me a black golf shirt with a missing button. In its place Agent Cady carefully placed the button video camera running the wire down the front of the shirt, into my pants and up through a small hole they cut in the left pocket. They attached the small silver recorder to the wire and left it in my pocket.
Jim said to be sure that I face John at all times so the camera can pick up his face. At the appointed time I left for the meeting arriving at Dunkin Donuts before Zambarano. I ordered an ice tea and strategically choose a seat under the lighting to await John’s arrival. A few minutes later, he walked in, ordered a coffee, and without sitting down said, “Come on, let’s talk outside.”
We sat in the front seat of his SUV where we both faced straight ahead. I struggled to turn toward him hoping for a better camera angle without making it appear obvious that I wanted to face him. “You’re not recording this are you?” he asked. “John, please,” I said in reply. He laughed and said, “I talked to those guys after we had our conversation…there’s only three of us involved in this…so it took a little convincing” “Are the others Burchfield and Douglas,” I asked. “Yeah,” Zambarano continued,
“They don’t even want to talk to you about it…in other words…they agreed.” Now it’s gonna be four of us. So…you come tomorrow night…if you go along with the show and go along with everything we’ll give you 4,000…and I’m gonna tell you it was twenty-five divided by three. So we’re not getting much more than you are. But I mean I negotiated the deal. I mean…and they were in on it from the beginning…so I came up with that figure.” “Twenty-five hundred,”
I asked trying to get John to acknowledge the full bribe amount. “Twenty-five thousand,” John said. (Zambarano had actually been describing his original deal with Baccari. After he, Douglas and Burchfield learned that Baccari had appeased neighbors by paving their driveways and doing other construction-type work for them, the trio decided to have Zambarano approach Baccari once again and request an additional $25,000. Zambarano disclosed during FBI-recorded conversations between John and the other Council conspirators that Baccari agreed to pay the higher price.) Zambarano continued, “Baccari said, ‘you deliver four votes and I’ll give you twenty-five thousand dollars.” “That will be fine,” I said. He must have thought that I was going to put up a fuss about the inequity because he tried to reassure me. “And there’s something else coming down the road in the future and we can all be part of this again…Baccari told me he might want to put an Applebee’s or Chili’s in the parking lot…he said we’re gonna need a liquor license…he doesn’t’ know they’re a dime a dozen and I’m not going to tell him, you know what I’m saying.” Zambarano confirmed that he was involved with Douglas and Burchfield on similar corrupt practices in the past saying, “I’ve known Joey for thirty years…me and Ray became really good friends…I never talked to you about things like this in the thirteen years we were on that council…and Joey says ‘You sure?’...I said ‘the guy was with us in Florida…He knew exactly what we were talking about…so shame on us and I give him credit for calling me and approaching me with it.’” (The fact that Zambarano acknowledged that in the 13 years that we’ve been on the Council together he never talked to me about things like this is a strong indication to me that this type of corruption has been going on for at least that long. Perhaps my instincts were right about all the other deals that raised my suspicion.)
Zambarano then went on to tell me exactly how the bribery scheme would be executed.
“Baccari said ‘That’s the way I do business.’ He’s not giving us anything until after the meeting…I’m getting it tomorrow night…I’m meeting him and Ciresi about an hour after the meeting…So I’m getting it tomorrow night. I’m meeting him and Bobby Ciresi about an hour after the meeting. I’ll give everybody theirs too…and then Wednesday after work I’ll give you the $4,000. But Ray says to me ‘He’s not gonna make this hard for us tomorrow night is he?’”
John queried, “You’re going to vote for it right?” “Yeah,” I replied with a note of incredulity that he might even question my commitment to the scheme. John continued, “Be sure to say thank you to Ray and Joe when you see them at the council meeting. They’ll know what you mean.” Zambarano also indicated that he prevented another councilman from making the decision difficult. Manny Giusti was prepared to require that Baccari purchase and install a digital billboard for the North Providence High School. In an attempt to keep the developers cost down, thereby making the payoff more affordable to Baccari, Zambarano dissuaded Giusti from making that request. He stated, “Giusti’s not going to do that because I made sure.”
I asked Zambarano how disciplinary action is handled against someone who pays a bribe during the approval process. “Don’t they own us at that point?” I asked. Zambarano replied, “…See, they’re breaking the law, just like we are.” I thanked John for his intervention with the others on my behalf. We said goodbye and went our separate ways.
I was both relieved that the meeting was over and excited to have obtained the information we sought. Back at my house I explained to the two FBI agents how John wanted to have the conversation in his car making it possible that the video portion of the taping had not been productive. But Jim apparently had agents watching me from different vantage points and had already been briefed on everything that had happened. As I recounted the conversation, we marveled at how much Zambarano said and joked about maybe having to “slap him twice” to get him to shut up! Video or not, the result of the conversation was even more incriminating than anticipated.
Casting the Tainted Votes
After the typical pre-council meeting prep session with Jim, I left for the February 10th meeting arriving in the High School parking lot at the same time as Ray Douglas. As we walked into the Auditorium I said, “Thank you.” Without breaking stride he responded, “No problem.” Once inside Joe Burchfield thanked me for sending flowers to the funeral parlor for his father-in-law who had passed away the week prior. “It was my pleasure,” I said. “And by the way, thank you.” He patted my shoulder as he walked by me and said “Anytime.”
Many area residents stood at the hearing, one by one, to protest the zone change. They spoke of traffic problems, ingress and egress issues, diminution of property values and aesthetic impacts. They opposed the plan en-mass and spoke eloquently of their disapproval. “So much for all the residents being in favor of the zone change,” I thought!
Retired Superior Court Justice Thomas Caldarone represented several residents of an abutting condominium complex in their opposition. He too owned a condo in that complex. Senator Dominick Ruggiero could not attend the meeting but submitted a letter of opposition and Doc Corvese spoke in opposition to the project. Each articulated very valid and carefully crafted reasons why the Council should not approve the requested changes. As I had witnessed in many previous Council sessions, none of it mattered. When one resident had the audacity to mention that it appeared to him that the minds of the Council members seemed to be made up long before the meeting ever started, Burchfield shot back angrily, “We have been listening to every word and have been studying this issue for months.” Again, I recognized the defensive posture from issues gone by confirming once again, at least in my mind, that such deals had been a routine part of the Council’s decision-making for years.
After 5½ hours of testimony, the vote was taken. Both the comprehensive plan amendment as well as the zoning map change passed unanimously reinforcing my belief that even those not in on the corruption simply followed the president’s lead like lemming. Not a word of protest was uttered. Not one defense offered to counter the concerns raised by the residents, nothing except seven councilmen voting together in opposition to the wishes of the neighbors and the best interests of the town. Burchfield's wish had come true. Everyone it appeared was getting along. For my part, I was embarrassed that the neighbors might think me a sell out.
The Payoff
Jim had called me twice during the proceedings not expecting the meeting to last so long. I couldn’t answer his calls, but did manage to return the call during a short recess. He asked me to walk out of the auditorium with John Zambarano so the agent in the parking lot could see what John was driving. I did as instructed walking with John to his white work van making small talk all the way. Zambarano told me to call him the following day after work and we could get together so I could collect my share. I told him I would and walked to my SUV. As I prepared to drive off to meet Jim, Douglas tapped on my window and said, “It’s nice not having to be against you.” We both laughed. I left the high school parking lot and joined Jim who was waiting for me in the parking lot of the J&D Restaurant in Johnston.
While I debriefed Jim on the details of the Council meeting, Zambarano called Bob Ciresi’s cell phone and in the course of 60 seconds finalized their meet-up plans. Zambarano returned to his home, quickly switched vehicles, and then drove to the empty parking lot of Antonio’s Restaurant at 1710 Cranston Street in Cranston. The clock read 10:29 p.m. when Zambarano circled the parking lot and arranged his car so that it was facing towards Park Avenue. There was no sign of Ciresi and the much anticipated bribe money. Zambarano was anxious and growing impatient. After what apparently seemed like an eternity but was in reality only three minutes, he reached for his cell phone and hit the re-dial to once again contact Ciresi. “I'm down the road,” Ciresi answered, and told Zambarano that he would be at Antonio’s shortly. Then, as promised, Ciresi drove into the parking lot, pulled alongside Zambarano’s vehicle, stopped and handed Zam a white envelope containing $44,000, keeping $6,000 of the bribe money for himself. The two spoke for approximately three minutes then each drove away. An elated Zambarano headed to his home where he arrived at about 10:46 p.m. Three minutes later he was off again this time heading just
down the road to the home of Ray Douglas at 50 Sampson Avenue. Zambarano pulled his vehicle into the driveway and stepped out. From inside the house, Douglas flipped on the rear light and Zambarano entered through the back door. At 11:07 p.m., Joe Burchfield, who had arrived at the Douglas home before Zambarano, emerged from the house, stepped into his black SUV and drove off. Zambarano followed a few minutes later. Each was about $13,000 richer.
Working off Tension
In one of the lighter moments of the corruption probe I mailed a letter to Jim at the FBI field office in Providence. The note read:
Joking and reducing my thoughts and emotions to writing were my coping mechanisms of choice. Jim was just starting to understand my sense of humor. I’m sure at first he wasn’t quite sure what to make of me, but after a month or so, he started to joke back. Working with the FBI, even at this early juncture in the process, was one of my most stressful undertakings. There was extraordinary pressure to record each call, say the right thing so as not to violate the signed agreement with the FBI, stay within the prescribed bounds of a cooperating witness (referred to as admonishments), and regularly meet with Jim surreptitiously so as not to arouse the suspicion of coworkers or others.
Every phone call became an all-consuming exercise of time and patience. If I received an incoming call from Zambarano, Burchfield or Douglas for example, I had to allow the message to pass to my voice mail. I was then required to listen to the message, call Jim and discuss the contents of the message, review a strategy for the impending discussion with the councilman, get permission to activate the recording device, activate the device and record a preamble that included my name and the date, time and purpose of the call. Only then could I return the call. If the call passed into the recipient's voice mail, I had to call Jim again, let him know the result of my attempt, get permission to allow the recorder to continue to run for a few minutes in anticipation of a callback and monitor the elapsed time. If my call was returned within a few minutes I had to take part in a discussion carefully coaxing information in such a way as to elicit comments without leading the discussion. I then had to terminate the call, deactivate the device with concluding remarks similar to the preamble, call Jim again, summarize the conversation, receive further instructions that might require another call. In the alternative to an additional call we might simply arrange a meeting where I would once again review with Jim what had transpired, return the device so Jim could download the recordings, and plan to meet again to retrieve the device in anticipation of the next call. If the return call didn’t come within 5 minutes or so I had to deactivate the device with concluding remarks, call Jim to let him know that I didn't get a return call, and ask permission to activate the device without a new phone call to Jim in the event that the return call was received later. Instructions then continued in accordance with the aforementioned process from that point.
Sometimes a call would last for a half hour or more and would produce real fruit. Other times the conversation was short and totally unproductive. That was where the real frustration lied. A simple, innocuous, insignificant call might require ½ hour of time and a lot of effort, not to mention anxiety, especially if I happened to be out to dinner with friends or family or otherwise in public at the time. While it may have been tolerable at the beginning, this process went on for about 17 months and became quite time consuming and at times downright annoying.
To make matters worse, all this was taking place while I was working a full time job as Rhode Island's Deputy Secretary of State, operating a real estate business part time, serving on the Council, taking courses toward a masters degree and attempting to spend quality time with my wife, children and grandchildren, not to mention trying to help my sister care for two elderly parents. The demands on my time were enormous and there were points where I felt I just wouldn’t be able to get through it. I felt enormous guilt in not being able to do more for my family. I found consolation in reaching for the lighter side of the situation and comfort in reducing my thoughts to writing.
Two Thousand, Four Thousand
Wednesday February 11th finally arrived and collecting my payoff presented a real test of my nerve. I met Agents Jim and Matt in the parking lot of Rhode Island College where they first searched my SUV and then searched me to be sure that I wasn’t carrying a large sum of money that I could then say was provided by Zambarano. No worry there as I didn't have large sums of money! Jim installed a camera housed in a phony GPS that he attached to the left side of my windshield facing the passenger seat. The unreasonably short wire for the GPS stretched across the steering wheel and plugged into the cigarette lighter in the center of the console. The agents also placed a small voice recorder in my pocket. While the GPS looked very real I thought the placement was sure to raise suspicion. Someone paying attention would wonder why I would place a GPS to the left side of the windshield with a wire stretching across the steering wheel rather than putting it on the center of the dashboard right above the lighter where it was plugged. In addition, my vehicle had a GPS built into the dashboard so the very redundancy might raise a question. There was no time to worry about it, however. The recorder was activated and I placed a call to Zambarano letting him know that I was on my way to his house. “I’ll meet you in the driveway,” he said. As I drove off I noticed that the little arrow on the fake GPS indicating the vehicle location didn’t move along with the vehicle movements. It was stationary further exposing the device as a fraud. As I made my way to John’s house I worried, “What if he wants to take a ride and notices that the GPS is broken or becomes suspicious and aborts the payment?” Before I could think of a plausible response I pulled into his driveway. I took a deep breath as Zambarano walked out of his house, opened the passenger door of my vehicle activating the overhead light, leaned in and slapped two strapped stacks of $20 bills in my right hand counting “two thousand, four thousand” as he did. I fumbled with the cash for a brief moment trying not to smear any fingerprints that might be on them and then placed the two straps of cash in the inside left pocket of my suit jacket. Because he had not actually gotten in and closed the door, the overhead lights remained on just long enough to allow sufficient lighting for the camera to record the entire transaction. Once he had handed me the money he sat in the passenger seat and closed the door rendering darkness. In an effort to get him to talk I said excitedly, “We got the whole thing?” “Of course,” he responded, his voice rising with excitement. He then decided to eagerly explain, once again, how the whole deal came about.
“I went down to Baccari’s office. What happened was…I’m very close to Ciresi. I’m very close to him and he said to me, ‘If youse want something… you’re the guy that’s gonna do the deal… He [Baccari] doesn’t want to talk to anyone else about it.’ So I went down there… so I said ‘Alright, how does twenty-five sound?’ Baccari said ‘Fine.” “That easy,” I asked. “You could’ve got forty!”
“I could have got fifty,” Zambarano said hardly able to contain his excitement. “But next time, the Applebee’s or the Chili’s, I’m going to go for it.” Zambarano then confirmed that he paid Douglas and Burchfield their portion of the bribe. “I got this last night after the meeting…I went and gave it. After we went I met at Ray’s and we cleared everything up and Joey says ‘Hey Zam, you really orchestrated this great.’”
I felt that I was finally beginning to gain Zambarano’s confidence, but I knew that I still had a way to go before the others would trust me. As previously instructed by Jim I stopped home for a while before meeting with him to deliver the cash in case Zam or someone else was following me. After about 10 minutes, I drove to our established meeting spot in the parking lot across Route 44 from J&D Restaurant. Jim slipped on latex gloves and counted the money as Matt watched closely. After a quick recount he handed the money to Matt for bagging.
I hoped aloud that this was enough evidence to bring an end to the operation, but Jim indicated that this would provide enough evidence only on Zambarano. He said we were still lacking sufficient evidence on the others. “John’s gone,” he said. “It’s just a question of whether he gets 3 years, 5 years or more. If he cooperates, he can get a lighter sentence and will be asked to provide evidence on the others.” To gather sufficient evidence on Burchfield and Douglas he advised that the operation would need to continue for several more months. The agents also had to determine if Baccari offered the money or if it was extorted from him making him more of a victim than a conspirator. This was not at all the news I expected having hoped that everything would end this night. Nerves and stress had prevented me from sleeping for weeks and now it appeared that I was in for even a longer haul!
Obligatory Guilt
Back home, Margie and I had a long conversation about the entire operation. We both felt sorry for John Zambarano who was, in fact, a pretty likable guy. We believed he was gullible and schooled in the ways of this type of behavior by his friend and mentor Bob Ricci. Now that Ricci was no longer on the Council, Zambarano seemed to be the leader involving Burchfield and Douglas. At the same time, we were angry that their corruption had forced me into a position of either having to expose it or become derelict in carrying out my own fiduciary obligations as a guardian of the public trust.
Joe Burchfield was also very likable and, for whatever reason, had chosen this “easy” path to wealth. Regardless, too many people were suffering as a result of their decisions and the corruption needed to stop. After trying every other conceivable way to convince them, cooperating with the FBI unfortunately had become the only sure way to do it.
We also discussed the impact to Secretary Mollis. Of all the people that would be affected by our actions, Ralph was the least deserving of being impacted in a negative way. He was not a willing participant in my activities with the Feds. To my knowledge he had done nothing wrong politically, morally or ethically. Yet we wondered how the whole operation might impact him. We had hoped that it would be over quickly so it wouldn’t have a negative impact on his re-election campaign, but with that option fading we prayed that it would continue beyond the 2010 elections so as not to become a distraction for him during the election. As with most things in this investigation, that too was out of our control.
The Operation Turns a Corner and the Rules are Relaxed
Jim was apparently concerned that we would be noticed at our often-used daytime meeting place in the State House Dunkin Donuts parking lot, so on February 12th he suggested meeting under the parking garage off North Main Street. It was at this location that he provided a new recorder and gave me the flexibility to initiate recordings but still insisted on getting his permission to terminate the recordings. Jim also instructed me to only commence recording longer meetings, such as Council meetings, toward the end of the meeting rather than from the beginning so as not to record hours of pointless public discussion. The new strategy meant that I would need to excuse myself from the bench during Council debates, walk to the men’s room, activate the device, recite the preamble carefully so as not be overheard, and return to the Council bench. This just added an additional layer of stress to the already taxing situation.
Jim had come to know me well over the past month or so and knew that I had a proclivity for writing. He advised that I not write any notes from any of the phone calls or meetings involving the operation. He said that if I did, the defense attorneys could subpoena my notes and point out any inconsistencies with the official recordings in the hope of discrediting me as a witness. I had been keeping a record of events and knew that I would need to stop or risk obstruction. Yet, expressing my feelings in writing was, and remains, my way of dealing with my emotions and relieving my stress. Rather than heed his advice, I chose instead to record only periodically relying on my longer-term memory of events. That way, I reasoned, any inconsistencies between my writing and the official record would be attributed to the time lapse and nothing else thereby preserving the integrity of the official record.
Tensions Rise
After the Stop & Shop deal, things really quieted down. I was of the opinion that there were simply no available opportunities to obtain bribes or extort money from the business community. Jim wondered aloud if perhaps the conspirators were simply excluding me from other deals. Each was a distinct possibility and neither could be discounted. But while all was quiet on the corrupt deal-making front, personality conflicts between Councilmen Frank Manfredi, Zambarano, Burchfield and Douglas were at a boiling point. Zambarano no longer trusted Manfredi and tried several times to convince me that he was involved in some corruption of his own. Zambarano was convinced that Manfredi was a bookie that had taken illegal sports bets from Zambarano’s son and then shook him down for the money. Confiding in me one day a Dunkin Donuts, Zambarano told me a story detailing how he confronted Manfredi and warned him to stay away from his family. There was no evidence that it really happened and with all the recorded conversations available to the FBI I believe they would have taken action if it were true.
In any event, the three councilmen were harassing Frank and he was threatening to expose their corruption if they didn’t stop. While Manfredi had no idea what I was involved with, he had uncovered plenty of corrupt acts involving one or more of the three councilmen himself. I was concerned however that the impending feud might have an adverse impact on the work I was doing and informed Jim.
I found these discussions with Zambarano awkward in that I didn’t want to alienate him and risk losing his trust, yet I knew that he was only trying to coerce me into taking his side against Manfredi in a personal battle that had nothing to do with me. For his part, Manfredi had become a real ally – the only one I had. He was tenacious and wanted to expose and end the political corruption in North Providence as badly as I did. He dug for information and called me two, three and sometimes four times a day with updates. In many ways, it was only with his Council support that I was able to get through my term of office. Had I been the only member fighting for the truth, I could not have been successful.
Ashes
Anthony Ceprano, a retired firefighter affectionately known to his friends as “Gonzo,” partnered with a few others to open a cigar parlor cleverly named Ashes. The partners spent significant amounts of money renovating the Mineral Spring Avenue site with mahogany wainscoting and beautiful lighting and seating. Their pride was obvious as they applied to the Council for a full liquor license. In late November 2008 Burchfield and Douglas met with a mutual acquaintance to discuss the pending application. The acquaintance agreed to send a text message to Gonzo asking for $3,000 and noting, “If you do the right thing, you will get a liquor license.” Gonzo appropriately fired off his own text message in reply. “Are you fucking nuts? Nobody is getting anything for that license…this is real life, this isn’t a movie, like the Soprano’s, where you have to pay for things.” Almost immediately the response came back, “Just passing along a message.
Gonzo now realized what was happening. He was incredulous. He couldn’t believe that the councilmen would shake him down. Weren’t they, after all, his friends? He drove to Zambarano’s house and demanded furiously, “How could they do this? Are you in on it too? I went out of my way to help your son pass his firefighting exam and this is what you do!” Zambarano lied, assuring Gonzo that he knew nothing of the scheme and would intervene, but Gonzo was irate. Zambarano spoke to Burchfield and Douglas and told them what happened. A few days later, in early December, Douglas attempted to conceal the bribe solicitation by falsely claiming to one of the other owners that the text message was simply a request that the owners host a fundraiser or contribute to the councilmen’s reelection effort.
Paul F. Caranci is a historian and serves on the board of directors for the RI Heritage Hall of Fame. He is a cofounder of, and consultant to The Municipal Heritage Group and the author of five published books including two produced by The History Press. North Providence: A History & The People Who Shaped It (2012) and The Hanging & Redemption of John Gordon: The True Story of Rhode Island’s Last Execution (2013) that was selected by The Providence Journal as one of the top five non-fiction books of 2013. Paul served for eight years as Rhode Island’s Deputy Secretary of State and for almost seventeen years as a councilman in his hometown of North Providence. He is married to his high school sweetheart, Margie. They have two adult children, Heather and Matthew, and four grandsons, Matthew Jr., Jacob, Vincent and Casey.
Related Slideshow: Rhode Island’s History of Political Corruption
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