Taking Gangster life to sleepy Suffolk part 1: How my wife can now rival Al Capone and John Gotti

MOBSTERS have handed out some intriguing names to their associates. There are the obvious ones like Scarface, which was attached to the most well-known of all the gangsters, Chicago's Al Capone (above, centre, with the Mayor of Havana and another 'pal'), while Bugsy, Machine Gun and Far Tony are others that spring to mind. That last one, a real-life Genovese crime family boss Anthony Salerno, inspired the fictional mobster in The Simpsons. John Gotti's ability to slip through law enforcement's grasp earned him the excellent moniker The Teflon Don.

Some of these characters are even more intriguing and must have an interesting back story. How did Chuckie The Typewriter earn his name for instance? It sounds more like a children's cartoon character like Thomas the Tank Engine but a lot more sinister. Could it be the simple reason that he threw a typewriter on a rival from a great height? Have one of those old Imperials land on your bonce and it's going to smart a bit.

The Wizard of Odds is a bit more simple to work out, given the mafia's connection with gambling, but the Enigma in the Bathroom is totally baffling until you uncover the reasoning. Vicente Gigante, another Genovese family associate, feigned insanity to get the law off his back. He would wander Greenwich Village in New York wearing only a bathrobe and slippers mumbling incoherently. Flash forward to the epic TV series The Sopranos and perhaps this is where boss leader Tony's penchant for collecting the morning paper in his dressing gown came from.

How does this relate to Suffolk? Well, on Saturday, I strolled in from a game of golf to find my wife busily erecting a large structure in our bijou back garden.

'Come and help,' she pleaded.

'Well, what is it?' I asked, perplexed.

'It's a Gazebo,' she explained. 'Now the sun's out we can sit out here and enjoy the garden. It might encourage Livvy to spend more time in the fresh air.'

Umm, this is Olivia, my horror film-loving daughter who I secretly suspect of being a vampire due to her tendency to spend 24 hours a day shut up in a bedroom deprived of daylight due to the curtains being perpetually closed.

As for the sun being out, I suspect it's just a brief interlude which means said Gazebo will only get an airing twice a year. That's if we can be bothered to go through the whole rigmarole.

Which made it even more baffling when she collared me before heading for work and informed me a package might be arriving later.

'What is it?' I asked in an alarming case of Deja Vu.

'Well, you see, before I bought the Gazebo, I ordered one off Amazon then realised they couldn't deliver until Monday and I needed it that day. I tried to cancel but couldn't. It will be nice though it has windows and everything. I think Livvy might...'

She won't.

In the meantime I am calling my wife Lizzy Two Gazebos.