You know that scene in Goodfellas where Joe Pesci’s character goes absolutely ballistic over a simple comment? Well, that wasn’t Hollywood exaggeration. The real Thomas DeSimone was actually worse than anything Martin Scorsese dared put on screen.
When Goodfellas hit theaters in 1990, moviegoers were mesmerized by Tommy DeVito’s explosive personality. But here’s what most people don’t realize: DeVito was based on an actual person whose crimes were so brutal that even seasoned mobsters crossed the street to avoid him.
Thomas DeSimone wasn’t just another wise guy trying to make a name for himself. This guy was a walking nightmare who turned New York’s underworld into his personal hunting ground. His story isn’t just about organized crime – it’s about what happens when someone with serious psychological problems gets handed a gun and told the rules don’t apply to them.
Early Life and Family Background
Born on June 6, 1946, in Queens’ South Ozone Park neighborhood, Thomas James DeSimone didn’t exactly have a normal childhood. Being the youngest of eight kids in a family where crime was basically the family business meant Tommy was destined for trouble from day one.
The DeSimone clan had deep roots in organized crime. His uncle and grandfather weren’t just connected – they were running entire crime families out in Los Angeles. Several of Tommy’s brothers ended up working with the Gambino family, so you could say criminal activity was literally in his DNA.
But here’s where things get really interesting: his sister Phyllis started dating Jimmy Burke when she was only sixteen. Burke wasn’t just any neighborhood tough guy – he was a major player in the Lucchese crime family. This connection would eventually become Tommy’s ticket into the mob world.
Growing up in 1950s Queens, Tommy worked as a shoeshine boy. Now, most kids would just see this as a way to make some pocket money. For Tommy, it became a source of deep shame that would later trigger one of the most infamous murders in mob history. The neighborhood was crawling with future mobsters, and young guys quickly learned that respect came from fear, not friendship.
Entry into the Lucchese Crime Family
Everything changed for nineteen-year-old Thomas DeSimone in 1965 when family connections got him an introduction to Paul Vario. Vario wasn’t just any mobster – he was a captain in the Lucchese crime family who ran operations out of a Brooklyn cabstand.
This is where Tommy met the two guys who would shape his criminal career: Henry Hill and Jimmy Burke. Hill, who later became the FBI informant whose stories inspired Goodfellas, had some pretty vivid memories of meeting DeSimone for the first time.
According to Hill, Tommy looked like “a skinny kid who was wearing a wiseguy suit and a pencil mustache.” But there was something off about him that even experienced criminals picked up on immediately. The kid had this swagger that didn’t match his age or experience – like he was trying too hard to prove something.
Tommy quickly made himself useful by showing zero hesitation when it came to violence. He got involved in truck hijackings, and his signature move was carrying his gun in a brown paper bag. As Hill put it, “Walking down the street, he looked like he was bringing you a sandwich instead of a thirty-eight.”
That innocent appearance was completely deceiving. Underneath that baby face was someone whose appetite for violence would soon spiral completely out of control.
A Pattern of Violence Emerges
What made Thomas DeSimone different from your average criminal wasn’t just that he was willing to kill people. It was how random and impulsive his violence was. Henry Hill, who saw plenty of Tommy’s handiwork up close, called him “a pure psychopath” who was constantly “strung out on cocaine.”
Think about that combination for a second: mental instability plus heavy drug use equals a human time bomb walking around with a loaded gun.
Tommy’s temper became legendary in criminal circles, and not in a good way. He’d literally throw darts at other players if he was losing at cards. His mood could flip from friendly to homicidal over the smallest thing. Other criminals – guys who weren’t exactly choir boys themselves – learned to walk on eggshells around him.
Here’s how crazy this guy was: according to Hill, Tommy committed his first murder when he was just seventeen years old. They’re walking down the street, Tommy spots some random stranger, turns to Hill and says, “Henry, watch this,” then just shoots the guy dead for no reason whatsoever.
This wasn’t some heat-of-the-moment thing either. Tommy would sometimes use random people as target practice when he got a new gun. We’re talking about a level of callousness that made hardened mobsters uncomfortable. And these were guys who’d seen their share of violence.
His behavior created constant tension within Vario’s crew. Sure, having someone willing to kill without question was useful for certain jobs. But when that same person might snap and murder someone over a parking spot, you’ve got a serious problem on your hands.
The Billy Batts Murder That Sealed His Fate
The crime that would eventually get Thomas DeSimone killed started with what should have been a harmless joke. In May 1970, the crew was throwing a welcome home party at Robert’s Lounge for William “Billy Batts” Bentvena, a made man in the Gambino family who’d just gotten out of prison.
During the party, Batts sees Tommy and makes some comment about him shining shoes back in the day. For most people, this would be mildly embarrassing at worst. For Tommy DeSimone, it was like someone had just declared war on his entire existence.
See, Tommy had always been insecure about his place in the criminal hierarchy. One of his brothers had supposedly cooperated with law enforcement, which meant Tommy constantly felt like he had to prove his loyalty and toughness. That shoeshine comment hit him right where it hurt most – his pride.
Instead of laughing it off like a normal person, Tommy leans over to Burke and Hill and says, “I’m gonna kill that motherf***er.” Anyone who knew Tommy understood this wasn’t just tough talk. When he said stuff like that, people ended up dead.
On June 11, 1970, Tommy ran into Batts again at a nightclub called The Suite. This time, there wouldn’t be any jokes. Tommy confronted the older man with a pistol, beating him senseless while screaming, “Shine these f***ing shoes!” Jimmy Burke held Batts down while Tommy kept pounding on him until he looked dead.
Just like in the movie, they wrapped Batts in a tablecloth and stuffed him in a car trunk to drive upstate for disposal. But here’s where reality was way worse than Hollywood: Batts was still alive in that trunk, making noise during the entire drive. When they finally stopped, Tommy and Burke didn’t just shoot him like the movie shows. According to Hill’s testimony, “They just stabbed him, thirty or forty f***ing times, f***ing horrible.”
Other Notable Crimes and Murders
The Billy Batts killing was just the beginning of Tommy’s murder spree. Maybe the most disturbing incident involved Michael “Spider” Gianco, a young guy who worked as a bartender at Robert’s Lounge. The whole thing started because Spider forgot Tommy’s drink order during a card game.
Tommy’s response? He pulls out his gun and shoots Spider in the leg, then demands the kid “dance” for his entertainment. In that world, this was just considered typical Tommy behavior. Spider was expected to suck it up and get back to work.
A few weeks later, Spider comes back to work wearing a leg cast from the shooting. When Tommy starts making fun of his injury, Spider makes the mistake of telling him to “go screw himself.” Jimmy Burke actually seemed impressed by the kid’s backbone and gave him some money, then jokingly told Tommy he must be “going soft” for not retaliating.
That joke cost Spider his life. Tommy couldn’t handle any suggestion that he was weak, so he immediately shot Spider three times in the chest, killing him instantly. Burke was furious about the unnecessary murder and made Tommy bury the body alone in the basement. According to Hill, Tommy complained the whole time about having to dig the hole, “like a kid who had been bad and had to clean the erasers after school.”
Tommy’s other victims included Dominick “Remo” Cersani, who he strangled with piano wire when Burke suspected him of talking to cops. He also murdered Ronald “Foxy” Jerothe, who worked for future Gambino boss John Gotti, after Jerothe threatened to kill Tommy for beating up his sister.
Each murder added to Tommy’s reputation as someone who killed without thinking twice about it. But they also created a growing list of enemies who would eventually want payback.
The Lufthansa Heist and Its Aftermath
In December 1978, Thomas DeSimone took part in what became known as the Lufthansa heist – one of the biggest cash robberies in American history at that time. Jimmy Burke’s crew walked away with nearly six million dollars in cash and jewelry from the Lufthansa cargo terminal at JFK Airport.
At first, it looked like the perfect crime. They had inside information, pulled off the robbery without a hitch, and seemed to have covered their tracks completely. But then one crew member, Parnell “Stacks” Edwards, screwed everything up by leaving a getaway car in a no-parking zone where cops found it along with his fingerprints.
This sent Burke into full paranoia mode. He became convinced that law enforcement was closing in and that crew members might flip to save their own skins. Burke’s solution was typically brutal: kill anyone who might potentially testify against him.
Tommy became Burke’s go-to guy for these cleanup murders. He personally killed Edwards and several other crew members who Burke thought might be security risks. One victim was Morrie Kessler, a wig shop owner who’d helped plan the heist but was getting too pushy about wanting his cut.
These post-heist murders showed Tommy’s value as a reliable killer, but they also highlighted how reckless he’d become. Each murder brought more heat from law enforcement and created more enemies in the criminal world. Most importantly, his killing of Ronald Jerothe had put him on a collision course with the powerful Gambino crime family.
By early 1979, Tommy had become more trouble than he was worth. His unpredictable violence made him dangerous to his own crew, while his unauthorized murders had created powerful enemies demanding satisfaction.
The Mysterious Disappearance
On January 14, 1979, Thomas DeSimone got the news he’d been waiting for his entire criminal career. He was told he was finally going to be “made” – formally inducted into the Mafia as a full member instead of just an associate. For someone who’d spent years trying to prove himself and gain respect, this was the ultimate validation.
Tommy prepared for the ceremony like it was his wedding day, putting on his best clothes and saying goodbye to his mother before leaving the house. Tuddy Cicero and Bruno Facciolo, both trusted Lucchese family members, picked him up and said they were driving to where the induction would happen.
But when they got to the house, Tommy immediately knew something was wrong. The place was empty – no ceremony, no other family members, nothing. In that moment, he realized he’d been set up. According to later accounts, his last words were just “Oh, no,” before Cicero put a bullet in the back of his head.
The murder was deliberately cruel. They shot Tommy in the face to make sure his mother couldn’t have an open-casket funeral – a final insult that showed just how much anger his actions had generated. His body was never found, and he wasn’t declared legally dead until 1990.
There are several theories about who ordered Tommy’s murder and why. The most accepted explanation is that it was payback for killing Billy Batts, a made man whose murder couldn’t go unpunished according to Mafia rules. The Gambino family had demanded satisfaction for Batts’ death, and the Lucchese leadership finally decided Tommy was too much of a liability to protect.
Another theory suggests Jimmy Burke himself ordered the hit, either because he suspected Tommy of being a police informant or because he wanted to eliminate someone who knew too much about the Lufthansa heist. Some accounts even claim John Gotti personally carried out the execution as revenge for Ronald Jerothe’s murder.
Legacy and Cultural Impact
Thomas DeSimone’s story might have stayed buried in criminal history if Henry Hill hadn’t decided to become an FBI informant in 1980. Hill’s detailed accounts of Tommy’s crimes became the foundation for Nicholas Pileggi’s book “Wiseguy,” which inspired Martin Scorsese’s masterpiece “Goodfellas.”
Joe Pesci’s portrayal of Tommy DeVito brought DeSimone’s story to millions of viewers worldwide, though the movie version was considerably toned down compared to reality. The film captured Tommy’s explosive temper and unpredictable violence but couldn’t fully show just how brutal and terrifying he really was.
The real DeSimone was far more dangerous than Pesci’s character suggests. While the movie version of Tommy is often played for dark laughs, the actual man was a genuine psychopath whose actions horrified even experienced criminals. His willingness to kill over the smallest perceived insult made him a pariah within his own criminal community.
Tommy’s story serves as a reality check about organized crime. Unlike the romanticized versions we often see in popular culture, his life shows the brutal, senseless violence that characterized much of the mob world. He wasn’t some antihero or tragic figure – he was a dangerous individual whose actions brought misery to everyone around him.
Today, most people remember Thomas DeSimone as the inspiration for one of cinema’s most memorable characters. But for those who actually knew him, he remains a reminder of how quickly violence can spiral out of control and how the pursuit of respect through fear ultimately leads to destruction.
His mysterious disappearance continues to fascinate true crime fans and mob historians, representing one of the many unsolved mysteries surrounding organized crime in 1970s New York. While his body was never found and the exact circumstances of his death remain unclear, there’s no doubt that Thomas DeSimone’s violent life came to an appropriately violent end.