Somewhere In North Carolina A Lightbulb Goes Off In John Edwards’ Head — “Two Americas: Brokesters And Dons” (Alternate Title: “Of Mooks And Men”)

As the haves and have-mores scratch and claw their way into the top tenth of the top one percent, even mafia members are feeling the pinch, with some even struggling to make ends meet:

Richard Martino, a slender 47-year-old, favors Prada shoes and until recently drove a sleek black Mercedes-Benz. He has owned multimillion-dollar homes in Harrison and Southampton, N.Y. He spent much of the last decade running a telecommunications and Internet business to which his expertise helped bring in hundreds of millions of dollars. By one accounting, he made tens of millions for himself.

John Setaro, 57, did not finish high school, and has worked recently managing a fast-food restaurant in Seaford on Long Island. He generally wears neat but casual clothes, and lives in a modest, vinyl-sided, colonial-style house in Franklin Square. During a difficult period several years ago, according to his lawyer, he was making $2,400 a month.

But the two men nonetheless share an extraordinary bond, according to federal authorities: Both swore an oath to the Gambino crime family in a secret induction ceremony.

The striking disparities underscore a simple truth not always understood outside the ranks of the city’s five crime families: Some mobsters reap millions from rackets, and in some cases from legitimate enterprises, but many struggle to maintain a middle-class existence, and some are routinely broke. The impoverished gangster barely eking out a living is so commonplace that mobsters have a word for these poorer men of honor: brokesters.

. . .

No self-respecting mobster wants to be seen as a brokester — nor would he want his peers to think he struggles to keep up with his middle-class suburban neighbors. But the pressure is great as well to keep up appearances as a successful criminal. Mobsters have even been known to borrow money from loan sharks to throw it around on the street — and to pass it up as tribute to superiors — while at the same time scrimping in the privacy of their home.

“The hours are long, there is no benefits package, there is a high risk of prosecution, and very little job security,” said Gerald L. Shargel, a lawyer who has represented a number of mobsters, rich and poor, including several members of the Gotti clan.