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Hey everyone, happy Friday.

Ellie here with my weekly note to the cafe community.

I do really enjoy hearing back

from you, so send me any thoughts, questions, or comments to letters at cafe.com.

Michael Visconti died a few weeks ago. He was 54. When his family first told me, I'll admit,

my first thought was this. Please, please, please tell me he wasn't

murdered. Thankfully, he wasn't. He was sick and he died of natural causes. I felt momentarily relieved

to learn this, but that quickly gave way to grief, a bit more than I expected, really. Visconti was

a former cooperating witness of mine from my days as a prosecutor at the SDNY and from his as an ass-kicking, money-making criminal prodigy in the Genovese organized crime family.

You probably don't know his name offhand, though you'd certainly recognize the voice, that gravelly staccato that somehow managed to pull you in if you happen to listen to my interview with Michael

on episode one, season one of my podcast, up against the mob. You can check out that episode

anywhere you get your podcasts. If you're trying to get a visual of him, picture Vince Vaughn

with a darker complexion and an outside linebacker's build. I chose Michael for that first interview

because the arc of his life was so

compelling. He was raised in a loving, solidly middle class family in the suburbs north of New York

City. But in his late teens and early 20s, Michael started hanging around with some mob-adjacent

...