If you think it's lonely at the top, take a moment to consider the career of Peter John Milano. He's the boss of the Los Angeles mob, and the job has never been tougher.  Milano's toil has been made all the more difficult by the ongoing federal racketeering case that has shattered his outfit's plans for Las Vegas. The case, which encompasses the January slaying of mob associate Herb Blitzstein, already has resulted in one guilty plea. Sources say others have offered to cooperate, but federal authorities have shown reluctance because of the killing and the fact defendants can't give them anyone special.
Like Peter John Milano, for instance.
For a man of honor and respect, the 71-year-old Milano doesn't get much of either these days. The way his thing is going, Rodney Dangerfield will stick him with the dinner check. Pursued relentlessly by law enforcement, ridiculed by some of his own people for failing to be a man of action, strapped with the label of leader of the Mickey Mouse Mafia, Milano's mob fits comfortably in a Yugo with plenty of elbow room. You know you're in trouble when your outfit has more informants than made members, when the mere mention of omerta makes the gang snicker like school kids. It wasn't always that way. There was a time the LA boys did the job and Pete Milano was a rising star.
Born in Cleveland in 1925, Milano is the son of Anthony Milano, an underboss in the Ohio city. The family name was well known in Cleveland, but Pete and his brother, Carmen, sought their fortunes in California. Today, law enforcement lists Carmen, a disbarred attorney and Las Vegas resident, as the Milano mob's underboss.
Pete Milano became a made member of La Cosa Nostra in 1970, but his budding career was threatened in 1974, when he was convicted of operating a rigged floating craps and blackjack game. The prosecution was weakened when key witnesses in the case, Las Vegas’ Johnny and Frances DuBeck, were shotgunned a week before trial. The DuBeck killings were never solved. A year later, Milano pleaded guilty to conspiring to distribute 15 pounds of heroin. He also was nailed on a racketeering charge after shaking down Los Angeles-area bookmakers, moneylenders and pornographers.
Total time served: four years.
From embezzlement to homicide, Pete Milano has been suspected of numerous felonies since he moved to Westlake Village in 1980. He emerged as boss of the Los Angeles family in the mid-1980s. As a godfather, he wins no points for keeping his house in order.  Beginning in 1983, Mafia brothers Anthony and Larry Fiato began working undercover for the FBI. Their recordings resulted in the 1988 racketeering and extortion convictions of Milano, brother Carmen and eight other family members.  The LA mob has been reeling ever since. Like a punch-drunk fighter, the Milano crew again finds itself on the canvas, this time in Las Vegas.  The family's capos are either in prison (Mike Rizzitello, 33 years for shooting an associate, and Jimmy Caci for fraud) or just out (Luigi "Louie Ness" Gelfuso, a casebook of arrests and convictions). Acting capo Lou Caruso is named in the Las Vegas indictment.
The soldiers have more cases pending than a DUI lawyer on New Year's Day. Dapper Johnny Vaccaro keeps getting caught attempting to take off casinos. Steve Cino is named in the local indictment, and Rocco Zangari and Rusty Massetta can't go anywhere without a police escort. Bobby Milano, Jimmy Caci's younger brother, possesses the most entertaining portfolio of the bunch. He is a nightclub singer and actor whose song, "King or Slave" is a favorite with fans. No slave to irony, he has appeared in "The Untouchables," "The Gangster Chronicles" and "The FBI."
Underboss Carmen faces prosecution in Los Angeles. And it's hard to imagine him not getting hit with an indictment in the local case. Take that as a hint, Carmen.  Even 20-something Tomasso Gambino, sent West by father Rosario Gambino, can't get his game together. His association with Bonanno family elder statesman Salvatore "Harry Leonard" Giglio has been interrupted by yet another investigation.
And so it goes for the LA mob, such as it is.
By the time the Las Vegas prosecution is finished, Peter John Milano might literally be alone at the top. After all these years, he won't even be able to get arrested for illegal cards.
Hey, pal, solitaire ain't no crime.
John L. Smith's column appears Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday. He can be reached at John_L._Smith@lvrj.com