The leaders of the new “Beautifully Reformed Society” were reported to be Giovanni Rapi, a suave and well-educated gambler, the Cashier of the organization and its chief adviser, surnamed “The Professor” for having once taught modern languages in the public schools, at one and the same time a member of both the high and the low Camorra, and an international blackleg; Enrico Alfano, popularly known as “Erricone,” the reorganizer of the society and its “Supreme Head,” the boss of all the gangs, a fearless manipulator of elections, a Camorrist of the new order—of the revolver instead of the knife, the confidant of his godfather, Don Ciro Vittozzi,—the third of the criminal triumvirate, the most mediæval of all these mediæval figures, and the Machiavelli of Naples.
Known as the “Guardian Angel” or “Confessor” of the Camorra, this priest was chaplain of the Naples Cemetery, and as such was accused of unsavory dealings of a ghoulish nature,[14] but he exerted wide power and influence, had the ear of the nobility and the entrée to their palaces, and even claims to have been the confessor of the late King. Once, a cabby, not recognizing Vittozzi, overcharged him. The ecclesiastic protested, but the man was insistent. At length the priest paid the fare, saying, “Remember that you have cheated Don Ciro Vittozzi.” That night the cabman was set upon and beaten almost beyond recognition. Next day he came crawling to the priest and craved permission to drive him for nothing. Many such stories are told of Vittozzi.
Besides these leaders, there were a score of lesser lights—de Marinis, the “swell” of the Camorra, a mixer in the “smart set,” fond of horses and of diamonds, a go-between for the politicians; Luigi Arena, the scientific head of the corps of burglars; Luigi Fucci, the “dummy” head of the Camorra; and Gennaro Cuocolo, a shrewd “basista” and planner of burglarious campaigns, a little boss, grown arrogant from felonious success. The cast, indeed, is too long for recapitulation.
These met and planned the tricks that were to be turned, assigned each “picciotto” to his duty, received and apportioned the proceeds, giving a due share to the police, and perhaps betraying a comrade or two for good measure—a crowd of dirty rascals, at whose activities the authorities connived more or less openly until the dual murder that forced the Italian government to recognize the gravity of the conditions existing in the criminal world of Naples.