Jimmy Moran’s brash swagger and thick Brooklyn accent eclipsed his diminutive stature. In his mid 50s with a wooly tuft of graying hair, Moran lived alone in a one-bedroom cinderblock apartment in Tempe with his miniature Doberman pinscher and a revolver he kept under his bed. He was a successful businessman whose company built swimming pools and middleclass homes in suburban subdivisions across the Valley.

Early each morning he would drive his beige Lexus to Marathon Development and Creative Pools, his construction companies in Tempe’s industrial park, where he spent the day lining up building contracts. At night he dined at his ex-wife’s Italian bistro, Uncle Sal’s Ristorante, located in a strip mall in Scottsdale. Weekends were spent at Tempe’s Gold Bar Coffeehouse where he’d play chess and occasionally pound out the first few bars of the theme song from The Godfather on the piano.

Moran had a familiar-looking face, and it attracted an occasional knowing glance from a passerby; yet, few who encountered the seemingly ordinary businessman suspected his regimented life was all a carefully organized façade.Read Full Story...