‘Hunting Whitey’ a page-turning saga of real-life killer

It reads like a thriller, but it is not.

“Hunting Whitey,” about the capture and murder of the notorious killer and South Boston mob boss James “Whitey” Bulger by veteran reporters Casey Sherman and Dave Wedge, is a book you can’t put down.

The ending is the horrific murder of a horrific murderer — the notorious psychopath Bulger at “Misery Mountain,” the nickname of the violent U.S. Penitentiary Hazelton in Bruceton Mills, W.Va.

Hardly had the ailing 89year-old, wheelchair-bound mobster transferred to Hazelton on Oct. 29, 2018, than he was beaten to death in his cell hours after his arrival by a pair of inmates using padlocks stuffed into tube socks.

Instead of informing prison authorities, his returning cellmate cleaned up the cell and disposed of potential evidence in the trash. Bulger lay dead on his bed until a prison guard discovered the body the next morning.

Most people shrugged. Others celebrated — all figuring that the vicious killer, pedophile, drug dealer, extortionist and long-time FBI informer got what he deserved. No one has been charged with his murder.

When it was initially revealed that Bulger was an FBI rat working with disgraced FBI agent John “Zip” Connolly, now doing time for murder, Kevin Weeks, a Bulger loyalist and enforcer, was stunned. “It made no sense. We killed guys because they were informants,” Weeks said.

Weeks later exchanged curses with his former boss in court when he testified against him at Bulger’s murder trial. It was one of the lowlights of the court proceedings.

Another was the testimony of killer John Martorano, another murdering ex-ally who, like Weeks, was granted immunity and who also was “brokenhearted” to learn that Bulger and crime associate Steve Flemmi were FBI informants. Martorano, who admitted to killing 20 people, earlier named his youngest son James Steven in honor of Bulger and Flemmi. Try growing up with that.

These are but a couple of many professionally researched and documented stories about the search for the fugitive who, along with his companion Catherine Greig, eluded capture for 16 years.

While Bulger had no qualms about strangling Deborah Hussey, Steve Flemmi’s stepdaughter, with his bare hands, or firing a bullet in the back of John McIntyre’s head after torturing him, he loved dogs.

While hiding out in with Grieg in Grand Isle, La., Bulger cried when Glenn Gautreaux Jr., 17, a neighbor, had to put down a sick dog. Gautreaux said, “I dug a ditch while (Bulger) held the dog in his arms. He was crying real hard. He made me put down a bowl of food and water by the hole so the puppy could have a last meal while I dug.”

Things changed in 2008 when the FBI formed a fresh team of agents who were determined to capture Bulger, dead or alive, and restore what was left of the tattered image of the Boston office of the FBI.

The real break in the case came when the FBI decided to concentrate on Greig. Agents discovered that Greig, ever conscious of her good looks, underwent liposuction and breast enhancement surgery in Newton. There they found a treasure trove of high-resolution facial photos of her. Prior to this discovery, the FBI had only had grainy surveillance pictures.

The new photos became the backbone of the search. They were used in a television ad that was beamed across the country.

It led to a tip from Anna Bjornsdottir, a former Miss Iceland. She was a fellow cat lover and Santa Monica, Calif., neighbor who had befriended Greig when Greig regularly fed a stray cat they called Tiger.

The FBI lured Bulger down from his apartment to the garage at the Princess Eugenia under the ruse that his storage locker had been broken into.

The agents pounced. Bulger was ordered to his knees. He resisted. He did not want to get his pants dirty.

“What’s your name?” FBI Special Agent Scott Garriola asked.

“You know who I am,” Bulger replied, as though he were Jack Nicholson in the movie “The Departed.” Bulger had seen the film. It was about him.

Only Bulger’s downfall was no movie. It was real. So is this book. It is a very readable story written by two dogged old-school reporters who are a credit to their craft.