Enzo Condello book extract: ‘I had to deal some card, some Ace I had up my sleeve. It was a gamble, but I had to take it’

In his book extract, Enzo Condello — the brother of slain gangland figure Mario Condello — describes the day he saw the dark side of Carl Williams.

Enzo Condello, brother of Mario Condello, has written an e-book about life inside the notorious Carlton Crew. Picture: Alex Coppel

In an edited extract from his new book, Enzo Condello, the brother of slain underworld victim Mario, recalls his unnerving meeting with two killers.

The options to end this war were dwindling rapidly in late 2003. Then, out of the blue, to my astonishment, I received a call from Benji Veniamin.

He wanted to have a coffee with just me and talk about religion again. I was skeptical. I figured I should meet him again as a last chance.

When I told Mario he was wary and opposed the idea. Why would Veniamin want to talk to me on my own? Mario figured that I was harmless, the ‘messenger boy’ and that Veniamin would feel safe with me. But he didn’t want me to go and to get involved.

He now wanted me completely out of the picture. The more my head popped up, the greater the chance of getting it blown off. However, I convinced him otherwise. This may be the final chance at a truce. A last line of communication needed to be left open.

Carl Williams and Veniamin were now also on the defensive after Graham “Munster” Kinniburgh’s murder. They would be worried and fearful of retaliation. One of the worst things that incites violence is fear. It was a matter of trying to diffuse the danger and allay the fear.

Mario finally came around to my view and agreed I should meet with Veniamin. However, he agreed only on the condition that I take a gun. I went along with him, knowing that I would not do so, that I’d leave it behind. What man of peace takes a gun with him to a religious talk, a possible peace talk?

I was prepared to meet Veniamin without the gun that Mario had provided. I assured him I would take it with me but I didn’t. I wasn’t going to risk that. Also, some cop may walk in and do a spot search on both of us.

Carl Williams with Andrew Veniamin.

I waited for Veniamin at the same place where we had met him previously with Mario, but under different circumstances – Pizza Romantica in Lygon St. East Brunswick. My old primary school was around the corner. While I waited, I mused on how in the world I had gone from an innocent primary school child to meeting up with an alleged hitman. It’s bizarre how life turns out.

Veniamin finally showed up and ordered a coffee. He seemed relaxed, but at times got a little edgy. I wondered if he had a gun. I wasn’t all that worried or even fearful of meeting such a man, only apprehensive that nothing would come of it. I had met and socialised with dozens of this type ever since university in both Calabria and in Melbourne, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for me.

I had rubbed shoulders with so many criminals and gangsters and a few hit men and mafia mobsters in my life that this was just another occasion. I wondered what Veniamin really had in mind.

The first thing he said was that it was good to see me again. I didn’t quite believe him and thought he might try some con job on me, but soon enough we got on to the religion track. But not before he expressed a regret of all the trouble that was going on in the underworld, especially the death of Kinniburgh. He assured me that he knew nothing about it. He seemed to want to clear that up from the outset. I went along with him and told him I believed him and that Mario thought so too. He seemed relieved to hear that.

He said he wanted to change direction in life, that he was getting sick and tired of all the killings and betrayals in the underworld, but that the moment wasn’t yet right. He had a few other things on his plate that he had to sort out first.

God knows what he meant by that. Then he hinted I may be a link to a better life for him, a new start, but not yet. I didn’t know if he was being sincere. I doubted it.

Then suddenly, Veniamin wanted to know how Mario was reacting to the killings. I told him that they were none of Mario’s business as he wasn’t involved with those who had been killed; that he had known some of them, like the Morans and Kinniburgh, but not all those involved in the war.

“Mario’s got his own separate mob,” I said.

“Yeah, I know that buddy.”

“His business has nothing to do with Williams. Carl can rest assured,” I said. “Mario is not his rival.”

“Yeah, I know”.

Mario and Enzo Condello.

Condello is buried at Melbourne General Cemetery.

We talked a little longer. I began to get the impression that he didn’t really come to talk about religion so much as to try and glean from me Mario’s current state of mind on the underworld killings. Any hint that Mario might try something. I began to lose heart over any prospect of peace.

Then, to my shock, Carl Williams entered the cafe. My first reaction was to get up and leave. Veniamin noticed that it startled me and said, “nah, it’s alright mate. He just wants to say something to you.”

“I didn’t expect this,” I said. “Is this some sort of set-up?”

“Nah, no set-up mate, just a talk,” said Williams.

“I wish you told me he was coming, Benji,” I said.

“I didn’t want people to know I was coming,” said Williams.

“I thought we met to talk religion, Benji.”

“Yeah mate, we did — and some other things”.

Already, by meeting with Williams, I had enmeshed myself further into something sinister and deadly that could rebound on me. I had never broken the law except for speeding, scalping finals tickets at the MCG as a kid, and some petty boyhood thieving.

Contrary to what Inspector Thompson had said to me 20 years earlier, when he charged me with conspiracy to defraud (that I later beat), “Enzo, you’re not as innocent as you look”. I was as innocent as I looked, I think.

“I came here to talk to Andrew about religion and now this is happening,” I said. “I didn’t know I was goner be the meat in the sandwich”.

“Meat in the McDonald’s,” Williams quipped, “Yeah, sometimes it’s like that,” he added. “Andrew might be into that but I’m not”.

“Maybe you should try it,” I said.

“Nah, I’m not into that crap mate.”

He angered me slightly with that remark. How could I reassure and calm him and restrain him from spilling more blood? All sorts of things were going through my head at this moment, at 100km per second: flash flood thinking.

“OK, you can see me as the messenger boy but it depends on the messages,” I said. “I don’t want to pass on anything illegal”.

“Nothing illegal,” said Williams. “Just wanted you to tell him that I was not involved with Kinniburgh’s murder. I hardly knew the guy. And neither was Andrew. Your brother’s gotta know that before things get worse. In case he or those close to him think that we were behind it, you gotta convince him, we had no beef with Kinniburgh, or with Mario or Mick”.

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Mario is certain you were not involved. Graham had other enemies.”

“You’ve gotta tell them,” said Williams. “You’ve gotta tell Mario what we’ve told you and to pass it on to Mick (Gatto) that we would never want to harm Graham in any way. What would be the point of it? Our problems were with the Morans, not Graham, or your brother’s mates. I know your brother has nothing to do with us. He’s not our problem. He’s a mob guy and we don’t want trouble with the mob. Our business has nothing to do with them.”

“That’s right, I agree”.

Andrew Veniamin.

Carl Williams.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Out of the blue, I was suddenly thrust into the position of a go-between. Fate is full of surprises, twists and turns. But it was my decision to meet with Veniamin. Had I known that Williams would turn up I wouldn’t have gone.

Williams had that baby face that at times suddenly turned into a sinister scowl. One moment he was smirking, the next his face darkened and the real personality appeared: the killer behind the baby-faced mask, a wolf seemingly benign.

Then he said something that angered me further, that I didn’t expect, that was toxic with disrespect.

“Just tell your brother that’s the way it is! And that’s the way it will be. I wasn’t behind Kinniburgh’s hit. Let that sink in for everybody’s sake.”

Suddenly my own darker thoughts started to gain ascendancy. I realised that, more than likely, he had people killed, that it was highly probable that he was still a threat to Mario, now possibly to me as well. Something came over me that I had to struggle against.

The great psychologist Carl Jung had the theory that we all have a dark double, to varying degrees, that can emerge, if we don’t deal with it. This is a dark side that we have to wrestle with, especially in moments of crises, situations where our own survival, security or self-interests are under threat.

I calculated, perhaps a bit carelessly, that I had to deliver a message, a sign to him, that he could not simply try and kill Mario, or even me, and get away with it. I had to deal some card, some Ace I had up my sleeve. It was a gamble, but I had to take it. Try and nip in the bud any intention on his part to do Mario harm.

“Tell Mario,” he said “that we should meet with him and maybe Mick to talk this problem out further. On safe ground, the Casino maybe.”

I told him I would and then I said: “Carl, try and resolve this whole nonsense. And I just want to remind you of Mario’s cousin, Pasquale Condello in Calabria, whose clan is keeping a close eye on what’s going on and are constantly informed, but not by me. If anything happens to a blood relative, he doesn’t let it go. I have nothing to do with this. He is connected to others here too.”

Perhaps it was a stupid thing to say, rash and misguided, but I had nothing else to leave him to bargain with. That might cause him to think twice, thrice, about eliminating Mario. I had to have a counter and I thought that may be it. It wasn’t a threat but rather how things stood. He appeared more subdued now.

“Yeah, we know about the Condello clan in Italy – read it on the net, that’s why it’s better to settle now and clear things up”.

He probably thought the Condello Clan was too far away to do anything. But he was wrong, as in the future he would learn.

He suddenly stopped his small rant and seemed agreeable. Veniamin seemed to agree with him too.

“Yeah mate, let’s do the meeting then.”

They soon got to their feet, extended their hands to shake mine and started to leave.

“Carl,” I said as they edged away, “turn to religion. It’s the best way”. He waved that off dismissively.

“Andrew,” I then said. “Remember when you were an altar boy in the Sunshine Orthodox Church? What happened, mate?”

He didn’t reply. I just couldn’t help delivering those comments as parting shots. It was far better than bullets. Perhaps they were just two insecure blokes that had lost their way, given in to their dark sides. As young teenagers they both weren’t that bad, just the usual mischief. Maybe fear and greed had pushed them to this murderous point. I may have been naive in this assessment. Perhaps evil is more complicated than that. Not just nature and nurture. But it was worth the parting shot, to remind them.

As they walked away I had a vision of two dead men walking. One had once been a supermarket packer and the other an altar boy. I had a sudden twinge of regret. There is an old Calabrian saying: “If you are going to get revenge, dig two graves”.

Mario Condello with Mick Gatto, Graham Kinniburgh and Steve Kaye.

I left a few minutes after they had gone. I went outside and they had disappeared. I walked to the corner on my way to my car. From the corner of my eye, I saw a figure emerging from the shadows, walking across the street. It was Mario. He knew I would be meeting Veniamin at this cafe.

“How did it go? Are you OK?” he asked. I was more than surprised to see him, a little stunned.

“They want a meeting with you and Mick and they said that Williams wasn’t behind Kinniburgh’s murder. Did you bring a gun?” I asked.

“Well, what the f--- do you think? I came here unarmed? With Veniamin here?”

“Do you think Veniamin had a gun?” I asked.

“He always carries a gun with him. It’s his fear of anyone at this stage.”

“Carl turned up too,” I said.

“Yeah, I saw him from across the road. I was in my car.”

We walked to our cars. I drove off and turned into Brunswick Road. My old primary school, East Brunswick was to my right. Across the road lived Jimmy Bazley, who had been convicted of conspiracy to murder Donald Mckay. Through Mario, I knew him well too. We were innocent then. Who could have foreseen this future for us, dealing with underworld evil, murders, mayhem and nightmare?

A week later, a meeting was held at the Crown Casino between Mario, Gatto, Williams and Veniamin. I don’t know who organised the ‘peace’ summit and didn’t bother to ask Mario. But there they were, with the Casino security cameras filming them. They came across as four guys meeting at a local pub like old friends. They even kissed on the cheeks. Things were looking up.

After that meeting, Mario told me it had gone well. They had declared a truce. No more killings. Mick, the peacemaker, had sealed the peace too. I think Mario had kissed Williams and Veniamin on the cheeks as well in the old mafia tradition. Williams and Veniamin seemed to be genuine about the peace pact. But Judas too had kissed Jesus before the betrayal, I thought.

Mario Condello: the making of a mafia don is an ­­­e-book only, available via smashwords.com ($12.95)

Originally published as Enzo Condello book extract: ‘I had to deal some card, some Ace I had up my sleeve. It was a gamble, but I had to take it’