Yakuza: Japan's Not-So-Secret Mafia

60 Minutes' Lara Logan Reports On The Yakuza, Whose Criminal Influence Is Worldwide

CBS) The Yakuza is one of the most powerful organized crime syndicates in the world. It is Japan's not-so-secret version of the Mafia, with 85,000 members who trace their roots back to 17th century Samurai warriors.

Deeply embedded in Japanese business and culture, the Yakuza also have their tentacles into this country and American law enforcement knows it.

One man they keep a close eye on is Tadamasa Goto, a ruthless "Godfather."

Ordinarily such a notorious mobster wouldn't even be allowed into the United States, but Tadamasa Goto not only got into the country, he jumped to the top of a long waiting list for a life-saving liver transplant at UCLA Medical Center.

"What does it mean in Japan to be a Yakuza?" correspondent Lara Logan asked a Yakuza boss - a rival of Goto's who agreed to be interviewed if 60 Minutes masked his identity and did not use his name.

"To be a Yakuza in Japan is to live an unalterable way of life. It's not an occupation. It's to follow and explore the lives of the Samurai, the code of the Samurai," the man told Logan.

Asked how a person can tell if someone is a Yakuza, the man told Logan, "It's the smell….The smell of another beast."

"When you join the Yakuza, they become your family," Jake Adelstein told Logan.

No American knows more about the inner workings of the Yakuza than Adelstein. He has spent the last 15 years in Tokyo investigating and writing about the mob.

"Generally speaking, Yakuza get rid of bodies by dumping them in the foundations of buildings. They own a lot of construction companies. So, you know, you're pouring a new building. You throw the body in, like, the cement. And nobody ever finds it. The buildings go all up, all the time in Tokyo," Adelstein explained.

It's impossible to miss the mark of a Yakuza: severed fingers. Tradition demands when a mistake is made, they chop off their own finger to atone and present the severed part to their boss. Many have ornate tattoos that often cover their entire body, marking them for life.

But unlike the Mafia in America, Yakuza don't hide their membership in the mob, because it's not illegal in Japan to be a member of organized crime. And they are so much a part of Japanese culture, they parade openly.

"Right now, we don't hide the fact that we're Yakuza," the anonymous Yakuza boss told Logan.

He was introduced to "60 Minutes" by Jake Adelstein in downtown Tokyo. Beneath his expensive suit, his body is a canvas, like many Yakuza, covered with intricate tattoos.

"Physically, the tattoos take their toll on your body," Logan remarked.

"The tattoos are so dense that it's very hard to sweat, which means when you can't get rid of the toxins in your body, that's also very hard on the liver," Adelstein explained.

What's also hard on the liver is the hedonistic lifestyle of the Yakuza.

As she walked down the main street of Tokyo's entertainment and "red light" district, Logan explained, "This is traditional Yakuza turf. They run everything from the girls to the sex, to the drugs. But the modern Yakuza is a different animal, adding corporate takeovers, financial fraud and insider trading to their criminal portfolio."

That's how Tadamasa Goto made most of his money. According to Japanese police files, he amassed an estimated billion dollar fortune through nearly 100 front companies.

He is one of the richest and most violent godfathers in Japan. That's why he's known to U.S. law enforcement as the "John Gotti of Japan."

But there was one thing Goto's power and money couldn't buy him in his homeland. He had liver disease and desperately needed a transplant.

Culturally, the Japanese don't believe in organ donation, so to get a new liver, he needed to come to the U.S. For a Yakuza, that should have been a problem, said Mike Cox, the chief of immigration and customs at the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo.

"We want to be a welcoming country, the United States. But certainly we don't want the Yakuza coming to the United States," Cox told Logan. "They have extensive criminal histories here in Japan. They are members of criminal organizations. For both of those reasons they would be ineligible to enter the United States."

How did he get around that? According to Jake Adelstein's reporting, which "60 Minutes" confirmed, Tadamasa Goto made a deal with the FBI.

He offered to become a "rat" and inform on his Yakuza brothers.

"Goto said, 'Here's the deal. I need to get in the United States to get my liver transplant or I'm gonna die. I will give you the names of all our front companies in the United States,'" Adelstein explained. "So in terms of not only criminal intelligence, but sort of covert intelligence, Goto represented a real find for the FBI."

"So the FBI made this deal?" Logan asked.

"And they gave him a special visa to come into the United States," Adelstein replied.

Getting into the U.S. was one thing, but getting a liver transplant at a leading American medical center like UCLA was something else altogether.

"What's the average waiting time for someone in California waiting for a liver transplant?" Logan asked California attorney Larry Eisenberg.

"It's probably realistically three years. And it could be much longer," he replied.

Not for Tadamasa Goto, who got a liver in just six weeks. Eisenberg finds that surprising, especially since Goto was number 80 on the waiting list.

"It should not be possible that an unsavory character from out of the country, with ties to organized crime, comes into the United States and gets a priority and obtains a transplant," Eisenberg said.

Two families, Eisenberg's clients, both lost loved ones waiting for livers at another transplant center in the same area: Salvador Ceja was number two on the waiting list; John Rader was number five.

"Do you think, for one second, that this was legitimate? That they stood in line and waited just like your husband did?" Logan asked Rader's widow Cheryl.

"Absolutely not," she replied. "No. Because nobody gets a liver that quickly."

"I think they were playing God," Yolanda Carballo, Ceja's stepdaughter, added. "Now, I think they were picking and choosing who they wanted to give a liver to."

"So, in your minds, what was this about?" Logan asked.

"Money," Rader said. "Spoke loud and clear. And they listened."

"That's what it was all about. Money," Carballo agreed.

Three of Goto's Yakuza cronies also got liver transplants at UCLA. For them, money was no object. UCLA says each of their transplants cost about $400,000 dollars; the Yakuza all paid cash.

The hospital also acknowledged Goto and another Yakuza each made $100,000 donations to the transplant center.

Adelstein says Goto paid even more. "According to police documents and sources, a million dollars for Goto. A million dollars," he told Logan.

"A million dollars for one liver?" she asked.

"A million dollars for one liver," Adelstein said.

Asked if UCLA knew who these people were, Adelstein said, "When you see guys with lots of tattoos, missing fingers, wouldn't it occur to you, like, 'Oh, this guy is a gangster.' I can't believe they didn't know."

Attorney Eisenberg says transplant rules require extensive background checks on every patient. Yet, UCLA insisted to federal investigators they had "no knowledge" that Goto or his cronies had ties to Japanese organized crime.

UCLA declined all of 60 Minutes' requests for interviews. The only thing the medical center will say on the record is that their program has been reviewed and found to be in "total compliance" with liver transplant rules.

The hospital told us, "state and federal patient confidentiality laws prohibit UCLA from responding to the…issues raised by 60 Minutes."

"In my opinion, the medical center has a moral and ethical obligation to determine the source of those funds," Eisenberg said.

"A moral and ethical obligation, but apparently no legal obligation?" Logan asked.

"Well, it's not addressed in the rules specifically," Eisenberg said.

Because the quality of livers and the eligibility of patients vary widely, any wrongdoing in the cases of the Yakuza would be very difficult to prove.

The FBI also declined our requests to talk about the Tadamasa Goto case, which for them, Adelstein says, did not turn out as planned.

"As soon as he got his liver and was better, he's back to Japan. And he only gave the FBI a fraction of what he promised, maybe a 10th, maybe a 20th. Not a complete failure, but certainly not what the FBI wanted," he told Logan.

Tadamasa Goto returned to his life of crime as a Yakuza godfather and it all stayed hidden until Adelstein was tipped off. It took him years to piece together the details for a newspaper story. Then, when word got out that Adelstein knew, the Yakuza tried to buy his silence, offering him half a million dollars.

Asked if he was tempted by the cash offer, Adelstein said, "Of course I'm tempted. You know? When someone offers you half a million dollars not to write something, but then again, you know I don't want to be owned by organized crime the rest of my life."

Adelstein wrote the story for "The Washington Post" and it eventually made its way back to Japan. The news infuriated the Yakuza bosses. For Goto, it was a humiliating blow from which he would never recover.

"I heard from someone very close to him that as he was leaving and getting in his car he said, 'That goddamn American Jew reporter, I wanna kill him,'" Adelstein said.

Japanese and U.S. law enforcement agents took Goto's threat seriously.

Adelstein now lives alone, under Tokyo police protection; his wife and children are in hiding.

"Are you concerned that there is an American citizen here whose life is at risk?" Logan asked the U.S. Embassy's Mike Cox.

"Very much so. I mean, we think the Japanese police are doing what they can to make sure that no harm comes to Mr. Adelstein. I mean, we certainly don't want to see anything happen to him," Cox said.

"What do you have to do in your daily life to stay alive?" Logan asked Adelstein.

"You have to keep your rooms shuttered, because you don't want a sniper to pick you off across from somebody’s house," he said.

Asked if he lives in darkness, Adelstein said, "When I'm up in my room typing, yes. All the rooms are shuttered. You gotta be very careful on rainy days. Because when Yakuza take people out, they like to do it on rainy days, because fewer people are on the streets and the rain washes away trace evidence."

Even in disgrace, Tadamasa Goto still has a small army of loyal soldiers and a hit out on Jake Adelstein. The Yakuza say he will never be safe.

"When someone does something that causes them (Yakuza) to lose face, they will use any means possible, legal or illegal, to crush the person who has gotten in their way, who has humiliated them," the disguised Yakuza boss told Logan.

Asked if he thinks that's wrong, the boss told Logan, "That's not wrong. If you're a Yakuza, that's simply how you're going to behave."

"So if Jake had done that to you, you would get rid of him?" Logan asked.

"Absolutely," the boss replied without a moment's hesitation.