A slew of department insiders, none of whom were willing to go on the record for fear of retribution, tell City Paper that some black police supervisors felt Commissioner Sylvester Johnson gave more consideration to the ideas and policy recommendations of their white counterparts.

The racial discord was said to be filtering down to the rank-and-file to the point that there was wild speculation in one district that a captain was considering holding separate roll calls for blacks and whites.

Police brass, however, said they were boggled about where such incendiary comments were coming from and unequivocally defended Johnson against the anonymous claims.

"The police commissioner has always expressed a zero tolerance for any racism whatsoever within this department," said Capt. Benjamin Naish, a department spokesman. "He gets input and recommendations on the basis of what's best for the city, not on the basis of race."

For black police officers, the issue wasn't solely about race, but religion. According to one source, some black Muslim members of the department claim that non-Muslim black officers became downright hostile to their religious beliefs since 9/11.

The discontent felt by some white supervisors and officers has to do with perceived preferential treatment afforded to minorities; they claim their black counterparts are less qualified and obtained positions through quotas rather than street experience.

They also maintain that lower recruiting standards have meant applicants with minor criminal records or family ties to gangs or drug dealers are now being accepted as law enforcement officers. But if a few black and Hispanic officers have been accused of criminal activities, it's important to remember that this wouldn't be the first time officers have exchanged their badges for underworld positions of power. But in those older cases, whites were involved.

Among the former cops turned crooks: Mafia capo Ron Previte; loan sharks Harry D'Ascenzo and Edward C. Rock Sr.; Pagan biker boss Steve "Gorilla" Mondevergine, and K&A (Kensington & Allegheny) mobster Alexander "Al" Hartzell. Despite the rumblings of discontent, insiders say the bitterness has subsided since Skerski's May 8 murder. Now kindled into fury to find the man who murdered one of their own, there's apparently no time or interest in disagreements about race, religion or family backgrounds.

Last week, police officers from the Citywide Vice Enforcement Unit and inspectors from the Department of Licenses and Inspections raided a corner store at Ninth and Moore streets. Next to the snack shelves, they found video poker machines, so they cited the managers of J&F coffee shop with illegal gambling and shut the place down.

L&I sources claim J&F has agreed to remove the machines, so the store should reopen within two weeks. For most neighbors, the shop—a legitimate business—is a place to pick up sandwiches, sodas and really good coffee, but for more than three decades it's also been a meeting place for Philly Mafia members, associates and hangers-on. Imprisoned mob boss Joey Merlino once held a Christmas party there while former consigliere Joseph "Joe Crutch" Curro, on parole for life after serving 16 years for murder, made the store his headquarters. Curro spent his days inside J&F playing cards with retired neighbors and fellow gangsters until his April 2004 death. Reputed mob boss Joseph "Uncle Joe" Ligambi has reportedly frequented the store, usually visiting early in the morning.

Still, neighbors like the store and are not bothered by the so-called gangsters. "They're funny. They're nice to everyone, friendly to the children and protective of the neighborhood," says one resident. "They don't bother no one."

Neighbors even question whether the men are really Cosa Nostra. They point out that most of the men are older and pass the days inside the store playing cards, or on warm afternoons, sitting outside on the bench, chatting with one another and exchanging pleasantries with passersby.

But during the past few months, a law enforcement source tells City Paper, the FBI has been asking questions about who hangs out at the store. "They are getting interested again," the source says. "Suddenly, the FBI wants to know who these guys are and what they're up to. It's not a big investigation yet. But it's the beginning of something."

So where are all the card players hanging out? Down at the Dunkin' Donuts on 10th and Reed. Dunkin' Donuts? Angelo Bruno must be rolling over in his grave.