An excerpt from “The Lufthansa Heist,” written by Henry Hill and journalist Daniel Simone, as summarized by Bill Sanders in a N.Y Post story:

“When John Gotti, still seven years from becoming the Dapper Don, heard Tommy DeSimone was about to be ‘made,’ he demanded a sit-down with Paul Vario. ‘This fuckin’ DeSimone whacked two of my top earners, and I let it go for a long time,’ Gotti told his fellow capo. ‘Now he wants to be made, and I’m not gonna sit quietly. I mean, that’s as bad as putting a cactus up my ass.’

“’John, what do you suppose I should do?’ Vario asked.

“’Paulie, all I want is what’s fair,’ Gotti said. ‘I wanna whack the bastard, and I want you to give me the green light.’

“Vario considered how DeSimone was a constant source of agita. He also figured the feds or the cops would soon pinch DeSimone for the robbery. But there was another reason, the book ­reveals.

When Hill was in federal prison several years before, DeSimone had tried to assault Hill’s wife, Karen. Vario was furious about this — partly because, at the time, he and Karen were having an affair.”

Wait…Joe Pesci tried to rape Lorraine Bracco when Ray Liotta was in the slam, and this pissed off Paul Sorvino because he and Lorraine were having an affair at the time? Why wasn’t this in the film?

“The night DeSimone expected to be inducted into the mob, Vario’s son drove him from his home in Ozone Park, Queens, to Belmont in The Bronx. DeSimone wore ‘a double-breasted black Bill Blass suit, a starched blue shirt and beige silk tie.’

“DeSimone was led to the basement of Don Vito’s restaurant. Several old men were seated around a card table, and candles gave the room a dim light. De­Simone was surprised to see Gotti, a Gambino. He thought his induction would be a Lucchese affair.

“’Welcome, Tommy. Congratulations!’ Gotti said. ‘Pull a chair up to the table and sit comfortably. This is not an ordinary day in your life, I want you to know.’

“DeSimone sat down. Within three seconds, ‘Gotti pulled out a silencer-equipped .38 Colt Magnum from his inner breast pocket and drilled three bullets into DeSimone’s cranium. Pah…pah…pah.

“DeSimone’s head blasted forward, and with the thud of a ­10-pound boulder slumped onto the card table, blood seeping and leaching onto the green felt ­tabletop.

“Gotti buttoned his camel cashmere overcoat, straightened the lapels and walked out of the room with a vaunting stride,” the book says.”