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Botched hit, bad toupee

The failed hit man in the Ron Galati murder-for-hire case took the stand in Camden and told all.

Ronald Galati, 64,a convicted fraudster who ran a South Philly auto-body shop, wanted his daughter's boyfriend dead, according to federal prosecutors in New Jersey.
Ronald Galati, 64,a convicted fraudster who ran a South Philly auto-body shop, wanted his daughter's boyfriend dead, according to federal prosecutors in New Jersey.Read more

"THE BOAT IS on the other side of the water."

That's the code phrase that reputed mob associate Ron Galati allegedly used last November to inform a ragtag crew of hit men that his daughter's boyfriend, Andrew Tuono, was in Atlantic City.

Galati, 64, a convicted fraudster who ran a South Philly auto-body shop with a lucrative city contract, wanted Tuono dead, according to federal prosecutors in New Jersey.

The mistake was allegedly hiring Ronald Walker.

Tuono survived. Walker and another would-be hit man were busted and pleaded guilty.

Now they're cooperating with the government in the murder-for-hire case that could put Galati behind bars for the rest of his life.

Walker, 49, a burly wiseass with a jaw-dropping rap sheet, testified yesterday that after he received Galati's boat-in-the-water command, he polished off his Church's Chicken meal then headed to Atlantic City to kill Tuono.

"He had a problem with a guy and he needed it tooken care of," Walker said of Galati. The payoff was supposed to be $20,000 for the Tuono job, he testified.

When Tuono and Galati's daughter, Tiffany, exited Tuono's home on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, Walker walked up wearing a surgeon's mask and holding a Colt .25-caliber handgun. Walker said he told Tuono not to run, although he admitted under cross-examination that Tuono was going to get shot either way.

"I didn't feel like chasing him," Walker said. "It didn't make a difference if he run or didn't run. I just wasn't in the running mood."

Walker told Assistant U.S. Attorney Jason Richardson that he shot Tuono three times, pulling the trigger until he ran out of ammo. But he and a co-defendant, Alvin Matthews, only made it to the end of the block when they ran directly into an Atlantic City police officer. Walker fell - a couple of times - and was arrested. He originally blamed the shooting on Matthews, who was apprehended soon after.

Galati, a wannabe mobster with a toupee straight out of Morrie's Wig Shop, shifted uneasily in his chair as Walker identified him as the man who ordered the hit. But Galati's attorney, Anthony Voci, plans to argue that Tuono was involved in the drug trade and other activities that could have made him a target.

"There is not a shred of physical evidence that ties my client to this crime," Voci said, adding that Walker is not a credible witness: "If Ronald Walker told me that my name is Anthony Voci and today is Tuesday, I'd ask for a mirror and a calendar."

The jury is not expected to hear about Galati's mob connections - or the insurance-fraud and murder-for-hire charges he's also facing in Philadelphia - but prosecutors have said in pretrial motions that Galati spoke with reputed mob boss Joseph "Uncle Joe" Ligambi when Ligambi was in prison, and that he also made "frequent payments" to Ligambi and his nephew George Borgesi.

Law-enforcement officials conducting surveillance spotted Ligambi at Galati's shop, American Collision & Automotive Center, at 20th and McKean streets, shortly after Ligambi was released from prison in January.

But Galati's family says the feds got it all wrong. Lots of people could've wanted Tuono dead.

"My cousin is a very, very nice man. A wonderful person. He is a good sport," Galati's first cousin said outside the courtroom. She asked that her name not be printed because of her husband's line of work, which she did not disclose.

The family also insists that Galati isn't involved with the mob. But one guy apparently isn't convinced.

As Walker began testifying yesterday, a curious onlooker walked into the courtroom and quietly took a seat near the back. It was mob prosecutor David Fritchey, chief of the Organized Crime Strike Force in the U.S. Attorney's Office in Philadelphia.