Conscious after the shooting, Martorano was alert enough to tell cops that he did not know who had tried to kill him, police sources said. (JIM MacMILLAN / DAILY NEWS)

By KITTY CAPARELLA, SCOTT FLANDER & ROSE DeWOLF
Philadelphia Daily News

RAYMOND "Long John" Martorano, the elder statesman of the Mafia, was quietly trying to organize a crew of bookmakers to be loyal to him, mob investigators learned in the past two months.

"Everyone ignored him because of his age," a law enforcement source said. "Those young guys coming up don't know who he is. He had no power base, so the information wasn't taken seriously.

"But yesterday, somebody did.

In a brazen, rush-hour mob hit in Center City, Martorano, 74, was shot three times - in his chest, abdomen and right arm - and critically wounded at 4:35 p.m.

He was driving alone in his 2000 Lincoln Town Car near Pennsylvania Hospital, where he was visiting his cardiologist to have his pacemaker checked.

"Just when you thought the mob had no b----, Boom!, they're back in business," said a law enforcement source.

Martorano was in critical but stable condition last night at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital, after undergoing nearly five hours in surgery.

He was conscious after the shooting and alert enough to tell cops, just before paramedics put an oxygen mask over his face, that he did not know who had tried to kill him, police sources said.

Martorano was approaching the hospital, driving west on Spruce Street between 7th and 8th, when a gunman fired three shots through the windshield of his black luxury car in the 700 block of Spruce Street.

All three bullets struck Martorano. A police source said that his arm was "hanging off," an indication of the powerful caliber of the gun.

Martorano's car glided through a red light at the intersection of 8th and Spruce, climbed the right-hand curb across from the hospital's main building, and struck a trash can before crashing into a fire hydrant.

Passers-by found the driver bleeding profusely, but alive.

"You could see the guy lift his head up," said one witness. "He was obviously not dead.

"The witness, who asked not to be identified, said he was standing near the corner of 8th and Spruce when he saw the Town Car coasting through the intersection and up onto the sidewalk.

"I thought he was drunk or having a heart attack," the witness said.

Then he saw the three bullet holes in the windshield, and knew the driver had been shot.

"I decided I'd go over and see if the driver was OK," the witness said. "I couldn't exactly see in the car because of the glare, but as I got closer, I could see that an older guy was slumped over.

"Another passer-by opened the driver's door to try to help Martorano, and another got in the back seat and reached forward to shut off the engine.

The witness said he had not heard any gunshots, though the street "wasn't that noisy.

"A pool of blood filled the cream-colored leather seat and spilled into the street, as a crowd of hospital employees and others gathered.

Investigators speculated that the motive for the hit may have been Martorano's recent effort to re-establish himself in the mob's gambling operation.

Martorano was apparently conflicted between reestablishing a power base in the mob and retiring to Sicily. He also traveled to Las Vegas to visit one of his three daughters. On Monday, Martorano returned with his family from a few weeks of vacation in Sicily, where he had found a $92,000 home and was thinking of buying it for his retirement, according to a family friend.

And yet, reputed mob boss Joseph Ligambi, who knew Martorano and his muscle in the 1960s and 1970s when he was a onetime close associate of the late mob boss Angelo Bruno, was "worried about him," said a law enforcement source.

"Now [Ligambi] is the boss and an old-timer is trying to recruit people. That's one aspect that's being looked into," the source said.

"He was back, trying to put a crew together that didn't have power. They didn't align themselves with him.

"Recently, Martorano, who was tall but frail, "was badmouthing people, and it was getting back to them," said another source familiar with the mob.

In 1982 he was sentenced to 10 years for helping to smuggle! precurser chemcials to manufacture methamphetamine inside the United States with the controversial millionaire Ronald Raiton, who testified against him.

Martorano spent a total of 16 years in prison, including time for the 1980 murder of roofers union leader John McCullough.

"Martorano did all that jail time and didn't give anybody up," a source added.

Although he was sentenced to life for the McCullough hit, his case was overturned and he and co-defendant Albert Daidone, an ex-bartenders union official, were granted a new trial.

In 1999, Martorano was released from prison after the state Supreme Court ruled that he and Daidone could not be retried on grounds of double jeopardy because the prosecutorial misconduct had been so egregious.

Martorano's former attorney, F. Emmett Fitzpatrick, said he hasn't had any dealings with Martorano "since the day he got out of jail" several years ago.

"It looks like maybe he was trying to gain some superiority" in the mob, Fitzpatrick said. "I can't think of any other reason why anybody would shoot him.

"Since his release, he's been obsessed with trying to get his son, George Martorano, released from federal prison in Pollock, La., where he's serving a life sentence on drug charges. In 1999, shortly before the elder Martorano was released from prison, a federal judge dismissed drug charges against his grandson, Raymond W. Martorano, saying that the government had failed to prove that the young Martorano knew that marijuana was inside a sealed 189-pound package.

Last year, the grandson was killed in a motorcycle accident in Cherry Hill, which devastated his family, especially his father, George, and his grandfather. Ironically, a passing motorist, an FBI agent, stopped to help him and the young Raymond died in his arms.

At the time, the elder Martorano had just received a hip replacement and was recuperating in Pennsylvania Hospital.

Yesterday, Homicide Capt. Thomas Lippo said Martorano had been at Pennsylvania Hospital for a doctor's visit.

"He comes here quite frequently," Lippo said.Investigators were going door-to-door in the neighborhood in an effort to find witnesses, Lippo said.

He asked that anyone with information call the Homicide Division at 215-686-3334, -3335, or -3336.

Last night, the intersection of 8th and Spruce was cordoned off as investigators searched for evidence. The Town Car remained half on the sidewalk, its driver's side door open, revealing the bloody seat, steering column and armrest. Blood was also on the passenger door and on the ground next to the car on the driver's side.

The car's keys were still in the ignition.

Late last night, the crime-scene unit brought in a truck with powerful searchlights to comb for evidence, such as shell casings.

Family members poured into the emergency entrance of nearby Thomas Jefferson University Hospital, but declined comment.

At the emergency entrance area, cops ordered everyone, including relatives waiting for other patients, to clear the driveway.

One young man, thought to be Martorano's grandson, was heard yelling, "I'm family!

"He apparently didn't have ID with him and was briefly blocked from entering the hospital, but he eventually was permitted inside.

Another young man wearing a leather jacket was heard to shout, "I'm going to get the m-----f-----!"

After about an hour, relatives of other patients were allowed to return to the hospital.

Jean Bruno Pupo, the daughter of the so-called "Gentle Don," Angelo Bruno, recalled Martorano fondly.

"You would think he was safe; everybody's dead. I feel sad, all that time passed."

*Staff writer Jim Smith contributed to this report.

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