From Publishers Weekly
The two-fisted title notwithstanding, "Bobby" Simone sees himself not as a "mob lawyer," but in the quasi-libertarian role of a man who spent decades defending the shunned and despised, earning himself the enmity of the federal government, with which he sparred for years, until the feds finally convicted him in 1992 for racketeering (he served several years and is not currently a licensed attorney). Simone's dense, unmediated narrative is best in its early sections, where he describes how his defense of local femme fatale and nightclub owner Lillian Reis offered him an entry to the seemingly glamorous world of the 1960s Philadelphia mob. There he developed friendships with "made men" like Angelo Bruno and Nicodemo Scarfo and indulged heavily in drinking and gambling. Then the narrative jumps into the 1980s, when Simone was kept busy in court by mob-related violence, and he himself became a target of FBI investigations. Simone's recitations of hard-edged criminal trial tactics are impressive: he persuasively depicts the dangers of government collusion with criminal informants, noting that multiple murderers were rewarded for testifying against him and his clients. Buried within this prolix memoir is a compelling tale of a renegade lawyer's battles on behalf of amoral mobsters, and of his downfall, but Simone presents only its disingenuous, self-serving outlines. His stance is basically untenable, because he labors to present notoriously vicious clients like Scarfo as "legitimate businessmen," even though these same men attract a remarkable amount of federal prosecution, not to mention assassinations in their driveways. 16 pages of photos not seen by PW. Agent, Scovil, Chichak, Galen; first serial to the Philadelphia Daily News.
Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
Simone, a convicted and [temporarily] disbarred attorney known for his success in representing Philadelphia organized-crime figures, pens his fascinating memoirs. He is proud to have been a "mouthpiece" for the mob, believing that everyone is entitled to a fair trial. Blunt and funny, Simone recounts how he scraped through law school while betting on horses and sports. After winning a high-profile burglary acquittal for a bar hostess, he attracted the attention of the Philadelphia Mafia. The Mafia lent him money but told him to stop gambling. Simone describes his many winning cases, including his own prosecutions in tax and perjury cases. He is out to settle scores with those who wronged him and names prosecutors and agents who "free more criminals than all the best defense lawyers in the country." He argues that the government should not use informants because they are inherently untrustworthy. Simone prefers the "stand up" former clients who are in prison. The author was convicted of extorting money from drug dealers for the Mob but is attempting to practice law again. The verdict on this book? What Simone has to say about the use of informants should be taken seriously, but ultimately this is a one-sided, juicy rant against the criminal justice system today by an ex-Mafia mouthpiece and, in that regard, enjoyable reading. Recommended for public libraries. Harry Charles, Attorney at Law, St. Louis
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.
