If Dzhokhar meets the saint, he'll be praying
Sunday, April 28, 2013 By: Howie Carr
“Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, meet the Saint.”
That’s an introduction I would love to make up at Devens. Junior is of course in solitary right now at the army base-turned-prison hospital. But if they do eventually move the retired pot dealer into something closer to the general population, it would be proper and fitting that he room with Anthony St. Laurent, 71, the Rhode Island mobster known as the Saint.
Why would the Saint be such a perfect cellmate for the Chechen chiseler?
Because the Saint once informed a federal judge that he couldn’t go to trial because he takes “40, 50 enemas a day.” After which his new underworld moniker became “Public Enema No. 1.”
Wouldn’t it be great to have them sharing a single cell, with a single toilet? The Eighth Amendment forbids the infliction of “cruel and unusual punishment,” but this one the Bureau of Prisons could possibly get away with, over no doubt vociferous protests by the ACLU, CAIR, the Department of Terrorist Assistance and all the rest of the usual bleeding-heart suspects.
I’m not saying the Saint has a problem, but the last time he was on trial, I was told that they had to handle most of his court appearances via “video conferencing” from Devens. Why? Because everybody at the prison refused to drive the odiferous, toothless moron down to Providence in the confined quarters of an automobile.
Do I have to draw you a diagram?
Study the photograph of the Saint. It was taken in the lobby of the old courthouse in Post Office Square maybe 15 years ago, just after he had taken the Fifth Amendment in Boston when asked if he were an FBI rat. Look at that coat — it compelled me to ask him, “Hey Saint, who shot the couch?”
He glared back at me. “You’re dat guy on ’PRO, right?” I nodded, for indeed at the time I was. “You shouldna oughta be sayin’ dem things about people on the radio.”
The Saint had a long-running feud with Robert DeLuca, another Rhode Island plug-ugly who is also a dead ringer for Judge Mark Wolf. DeLuca used to always accuse the Saint of being a rat, but not so much lately, since DeLuca and his new family vanished from Providence one day, following DeLuca’s induction into the largest of all organized-crime families.
The Witness Protection Program.
The Saint isn’t scheduled to be released until 2016, much, much earlier than the accused terrorist who mistook his brother for a speed bump.
The current bit the Saint is working on stems from his final attempt to kill his nemesis DeLuca.
The Saint hatched his plot while incarcerated at Devens, his home away from home. The Saint went to a fellow con soliciting help in recruiting a hit man. The Saint’s helper immediately went to the feds in hopes of reducing his sentence.
The G-men sent a wired “hit man” into the Devens visiting room to meet with the Saint.
“I want you should hit DeLuca,” the Saint said. “Shoot him in the head, and then you tell him, ‘That’s from the Saint.’ ”
Those instructions have always perplexed me. Wouldn’t it be better to have told DeLuca who was going to kill him before, rather than after he’s dead?
But you can see how much wisdom the Saint could impart to the Muslim whippersnapper. And let us not forget, both were involved in crime in Bristol County, Junior allegedly selling weed at UMass Dartmouth, the Saint shaking down bookies in Taunton.
One final point: If you want to check out the Saint on the Bureau of Prisons website, the only way to locate him is by misspelling his name. You have to spell it “St Laurent,” not St. Laurent.
That’s the screwed-up way the feds operate. But Junior won’t need the Saint to figure that out. He’ll be spending the rest of his life seeing it firsthand for himself.
BAD COMPANY: Anthony ‘The Saint’ St. Laurent
