On the morning of January 14th, 1979, Tommy DeSimone walked out of his house in Queens and climbed into a car with two men he trusted. He was twenty-eight years old. He believed he was on his way to the ceremony that would make him a made man in the Lucchese crime family. Instead, he was on his way to his own execution.

His body was never found. The mafia doesn’t leave receipts. But this was not just another mobster getting whacked. Tommy DeSimone was one of three men who had killed Billy Batts, a made man in the Gambino family, in 1970.

That murder became the centerpiece of Goodfellas, the film that burned the story into America’s imagination. Tommy DeSimone, Jimmy Burke, and Henry Hill had beaten a made man to death in a bar. Nine years later, when the debt came due, only Tommy paid with his life. Jimmy Burke died in prison decades later of natural causes.

Henry Hill lived to sixty-nine, sold his story, and became famous for betraying the mob. The question is why. Why did the mafia execute Tommy DeSimone and let the other two walk? The answer lies in who Tommy DeSimone really was, not the character Joe Pesci played, but the actual man.

The mafia does not kill for revenge. It kills for survival. And by 1979, keeping Tommy DeSimone alive was the most dangerous decision the Lucchese family could make. Tommy DeSimone was born on May 24th, 1950, in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

He grew up in a family already drowning in organized crime. His grandfather had been a mob boss in Los Angeles. His uncle was a member of the Gambino family. Crime was not a choice for Tommy.

It was inheritance. By the time he was a teenager, his family had moved to Brooklyn, and he was already running with criminals, already violent, already unpredictable. At fifteen years old, Tommy was introduced to Paul Vario, a powerful capo in the Lucchese crime family. Vario ran a crew out of Brooklyn that controlled everything from truck hijackings to loan sharking.

Tommy became a Vario associate, and so did Henry Hill, who was only a few years older. They worked together, they stole together, and eventually they killed together. But Tommy was different from the beginning. Henry Hill later said that Tommy’s portrayal in Goodfellas was 90 to 95 percent accurate, except for one detail.

Joe Pesci was five foot three. Tommy DeSimone was over six feet tall and built like a linebacker. He used that size to terrorize everyone around him. He was not just violent.

He was reckless, impulsive, uncontrollable, the kind of man who would pull a gun in a crowded room because someone looked at him wrong. Tommy’s first known murder happened in 1968. He was seventeen years old. According to Henry Hill, Tommy shot and killed a random stranger named Howard Goldstein.

No motive, no grudge, just violence for the sake of violence. That was Tommy. He did not need a reason. He needed an excuse.

By 1970, Tommy was a full-time earner for the Vario crew. He was involved in truck hijackings at JFK airport, stealing cargo, fencing stolen goods, making money for Paul Vario and the Lucchese family. But Tommy had a problem. He could not stop killing.

And worse, he was killing the wrong people. On June 11th, 1970, at the Suite Lounge in Queens, a neighborhood bar where mobsters hung out, drank, played cards, and conducted business, a Gambino family associate named William Bentvena walked in. Everyone called him Billy Batts. He was forty-nine years old, a made man in the Gambino crime family, and he had just been released from prison after serving six years for narcotics trafficking.

That night was his welcome home party. Billy Batts knew Tommy DeSimone. Years earlier, when Tommy was just a kid, he had worked as a shoeshine boy, and Batts remembered. That night, in front of everyone, Batts decided to remind him.

“Go home and get your shine box. ” It was an insult, a public humiliation. Batts was a made man. Tommy was just an associate.

Batts could say whatever he wanted, and Tommy could not do anything about it. Except Tommy did not care about the rules. Henry Hill saw what was happening. He tried to calm Tommy down.

He walked him outside. They waited until the bar started to empty. Then, around three in the morning, they went back inside. Tommy walked up to Billy Batts and beat him unconscious with a pistol.

Jimmy Burke joined in. They kicked him. They stomped him. Batts’s skull cracked.

Blood pooled on the floor. Henry Hill helped them load the body into the trunk of a car. Batts was not dead yet. They drove to a location in upstate New York near the Connecticut border.

When they opened the trunk, Batts was still breathing. Tommy stabbed him repeatedly. Jimmy Burke shot him four times in the chest. Then they buried him.

Six months later, they dug him up, moved the body, and buried him again in a different location. They thought they had gotten away with it. They had not. You do not kill a made man and walk away, not in the mafia.

And Billy Batts was not just any made man. He was connected. He had friends. And those friends were about to become a problem.

The murder of Billy Batts was not just a Lucchese family problem. It was a Gambino family problem. Batts was Gambino. Tommy, Jimmy, and Henry were Lucchese associates under Paul Vario.

When you kill a made man from another family without permission, you have just declared war. The only question was how long it would take for the truth to come out. For Tommy, the Billy Batts murder should have been a wake-up call. He had crossed the biggest line in the mafia.

He should have laid low, kept his head down, stopped drawing attention. Instead, he did the exact opposite. Later in 1970, just months after killing Batts, Tommy was at another bar. A young kid named Michael Gianco was working there.

Everyone called him Spider. He was a low-level associate. He fetched drinks. He ran errands.

He was nobody. One night, Tommy was drunk, playing cards, and decided to shoot Spider in the foot just for fun. Spider recovered. He came back to work.

A few weeks later, Tommy was at the bar again. Spider made a smart remark. Tommy pulled his gun and shot him three times in the chest. Spider died on the floor.

Henry Hill later said that was the moment he realized Tommy was a psychopath. Not because of the murder, but because of how unnecessary it was. Spider was not a threat. He was not a rival.

He was not even important. Tommy killed him because he was bored. And that is what made Tommy so dangerous. He did not kill for business.

He killed for sport. In 1974, Tommy murdered another Gambino associate named Ronald “Foxy” Jerothe. The details are murky. The motive unclear.

But the result was the same. Another body. Another Gambino connection. Another reason for the Gambino family to want Tommy dead.

By the mid-1970s, Tommy DeSimone had built a reputation. He was a killer, an earner, but also a liability. He was unpredictable. He drew attention.

He made enemies. And worst of all, he had killed two Gambino-connected men without permission. The Gambino family did not forget. They were waiting, watching, building a case for why Tommy had to go.

Then, in 1978, everything changed. On December 11th, six armed men walked into the Lufthansa cargo building at JFK airport and pulled off the biggest cash robbery in American history. They stole $5. 875 million in cash and another $875,000 in jewelry, nearly $6 million total, worth approximately $28 million today.

The mastermind was Jimmy Burke. The crew included several Lucchese associates. Tommy DeSimone was one of them. The plan was brilliant.

The execution flawless. Each man was supposed to get $750,000. Except most of them never saw a dime, because Jimmy Burke started killing everyone involved. One by one, the Lufthansa crew disappeared.

Shot, strangled, dumped in car trunks, buried in vacant lots. Jimmy was cleaning up loose ends, eliminating witnesses, keeping the money for himself. By the summer of 1979, seven people connected to the heist were dead. But Jimmy did not kill Tommy.

He did not have to. Someone else was already handling it. Tommy DeSimone’s wife, Angela, reported him missing. She said she had not seen him in a few weeks.

The last time they spoke, he borrowed sixty dollars from her. He said he had to go somewhere important. He never came back. Here is what really happened.

The Lucchese family told Tommy he was going to be made. Becoming a made man was the ultimate goal. You took an oath. You became untouchable.

You were in for life. Tommy had been waiting for this his entire career. He got in a car with two men he trusted. They told him they were driving to the ceremony.

They were not. According to multiple mafia sources, including Henry Hill, Tommy was taken to a house in Queens. He walked into an empty room. He realized immediately what was happening.

The room was supposed to be filled with Lucchese family members. Instead, it was a trap. John Gotti, a rising star in the Gambino family, was waiting. Some reports say Gotti shot Tommy three times in the head with a silenced pistol.

Others say Tommy Agro, another Gambino killer, was also there. Either way, Tommy DeSimone was executed. His body was never recovered. The Lucchese family approved the hit.

They had to. Tommy had killed Billy Batts. He had killed Foxy Jerothe. Both were Gambino connected.

The Gambino family demanded justice. And the Lucchese family could not protect Tommy anymore. He had become too dangerous, too reckless, too much of a liability. So they gave him up.

They used the fake making ceremony as bait. And Tommy walked right into it. So the question remains. If the mafia killed Tommy for murdering Billy Batts, why did they not kill Jimmy Burke and Henry Hill?

They were there. They participated. They helped bury the body. Why did they get a pass?

Start with Jimmy Burke. Born July 5th, 1931, nicknamed Jimmy the Gent because he was known for being generous with stolen goods. He was one of the most feared and respected criminals in New York, a Lucchese family associate under Paul Vario, a master planner, a stone-cold killer, and someone the mafia could not afford to lose. Here is the problem.

Jimmy Burke was Irish. In the mafia, you had to be one hundred percent Italian to become a made man. Jimmy could never be made. He could never take the oath.

He could never be formally initiated. That meant he existed in a gray area. He was incredibly valuable, but he was not technically part of La Cosa Nostra. And that is why the Gambino family could not demand his death the same way they demanded Tommy’s.

When you kill a made man, you have violated the most sacred rule in the mafia. The punishment is death. But Jimmy was not a made man. He could not be.

So the rules were different. The Gambinos could have pushed for his execution, but it would have caused a war. And Jimmy was too valuable to the Lucchese family. He was making them millions.

The Lufthansa heist alone should have netted the Lucchese family a massive cut. Killing Jimmy would have cost them their best earner. There is another reason Jimmy Burke was smart. After the Billy Batts murder, Jimmy laid low.

He did not brag. He did not draw attention. When the heat came, he stepped back. He let Tommy take the spotlight.

He let Tommy be the face of the problem. And when the Gambino family came calling, the Lucchese family could point to Tommy and say, he was the one. He pulled the trigger. He started it.

Jimmy played it perfectly. Tommy killed impulsively. Jimmy killed strategically. Tommy made enemies.

Jimmy made money. Tommy was a psychopath. Jimmy was a professional. And in the mafia, professionals survive.

Psychopaths do not. Jimmy Burke was eventually convicted of multiple crimes. He died in prison on April 13th, 1996, at Wende Correctional Facility in New York. He was sixty-four years old.

He spent the last fourteen years of his life behind bars, but he died of natural causes. Not a bullet. Not a rope. The mafia never touched him.

Now consider Henry Hill. Born June 11th, 1943. Half Irish, half Italian. Like Jimmy, Henry could never be a made man.

He was an associate, a lower-level earner, a guy who did jobs for Paul Vario and Jimmy Burke. He was involved in the Billy Batts murder. But here is the key. He was the least involved.

Tommy beat Batts. Jimmy shot him. Henry helped clean up. He was there.

He participated. But he was not the main actor. In the eyes of the Gambino family, Henry was a minor player. He was not the guy who disrespected Batts.

He was not the guy who pulled the trigger. He was just the guy who helped dispose of the body. That distinction saved his life. Henry Hill was also smart enough to get out before the hammer dropped.

In 1980, Henry was arrested on narcotics charges. He was facing serious prison time. He made a decision. He became a government informant.

He testified against Paul Vario, Jimmy Burke, and dozens of other mobsters. His testimony led to fifty convictions. He entered the federal witness protection program. He disappeared.

The mafia could not touch him. But even before Henry flipped, the Gambino family was not demanding his death. They wanted Tommy. Tommy was the problem.

Tommy was the one who killed Billy Batts. Tommy was the one who killed Foxy Jerothe. Tommy was the one who could not be controlled. Henry was a footnote.

And footnotes do not get executed. Henry Hill was kicked out of the witness protection program in 1987 after he blew his cover and continued committing crimes. He spent the next twenty-five years living in the open. He wrote books.

He did interviews. He appeared on talk shows. The mafia knew where he was. They could have killed him any time.

They did not, because Henry Hill was not worth the risk. He had already talked. Killing him would not change anything. It would only bring more attention.

So they let him live. Henry Hill died on June 12th, 2012, one day after his sixty-ninth birthday. He died of heart disease in a Los Angeles hospital. Natural causes.

The mafia never came for him. The mafia does not kill everyone involved in a problem. They kill the biggest liability. Tommy DeSimone was the biggest liability the Lucchese family had ever seen.

He killed Billy Batts, a made man. That alone was a death sentence. But Tommy did not stop there. He killed Spider.

He killed Foxy Jerothe. He was violent, impulsive, unpredictable. He drew attention from law enforcement. He made enemies in multiple families.

He was a ticking time bomb. By 1979, even Paul Vario, Tommy’s protector, could not shield him anymore. The Gambino family wanted blood. They wanted justice for Billy Batts and Foxy Jerothe.

The Lucchese family had a choice. They could protect Tommy and risk a war with the Gambinos, or they could give him up and maintain peace. The decision was easy. Tommy had to go.

But Jimmy and Henry were different. Jimmy was too valuable. He was a top earner. He was smart.

He was controllable. The Lucchese family was not going to sacrifice their best money maker. Henry was too insignificant. He was a low-level associate.

He was not worth the effort. And once he became a government witness, killing him would only make things worse. Tommy’s death sent a message. It told every associate in every family that you cannot kill a made man.

You cannot act without permission. You cannot put your ego above the organization. If you do, you will die. It does not matter how much money you make.

It does not matter how tough you are. The rules are the rules. Tommy broke them. He paid the price.

Jimmy Burke understood that. He played by the rules just enough to stay alive. He made money. He stayed valuable.

He kept his mouth shut. He survived. Henry Hill understood it, too. He knew when to run.

He knew when to talk. He traded his loyalty for his life. And it worked. Tommy DeSimone never understood.

He thought his reputation would protect him. He thought his connections would save him. He thought being a killer made him untouchable. He was wrong.

On January 14th, 1979, Tommy DeSimone climbed into that car thinking he was about to achieve his dream. He was about to become a made man. He was about to join the inner circle. He was about to become untouchable.

Instead, he walked into a room and was executed by the very people he thought would embrace him. The mafia does not forgive. It does not forget. Tommy had nine years to prove he could be trusted.

He spent those nine years proving the opposite. He killed recklessly. He made enemies. He drew attention.

And when the bill finally came due, there was nobody left to protect him. Not Paul Vario. Not the Lucchese family. Nobody.

Jimmy Burke and Henry Hill survived because they were smarter, because they understood the game, because they knew when to step back. Tommy never learned that lesson, and it cost him everything. The mafia does not kill for revenge. It kills for survival.

Tommy DeSimone had to die. Jimmy Burke and Henry Hill did not. That is not luck. That is the rules.

And in the mafia, the rules always win.