His workers would lug bags of groceries from the Food Emporium for the families of girlfriends, of which he had many. Most were Puerto Rican girls from the poverty stricken South Bronx. It was said he kept a harem of women in the neighborhood. “He had a lot of girls. He was all over with the broads,” Flaco says. George had all types too.
“One night stand girls who came back for more,” he explained. “Girls who clung to me like a cheap suit. Then there were girls who were my regular jewels of the Nile, more upper class than these regular girls.” Boy George’s girls were bejeweled in leathers and furs, reclining on ostrich-skin passenger seats of his Benzes and BMW’s. A lot of them tattooed ‘Property of Boy George’ on their bodies. To the girls sex was currency and they spent it on Boy George. He liked his girls customized like his cars. He demanded color coordination.
He had a 50 dollar rule, nothing under $50 was to be taken off the rack while shopping. He had one girlfriend wear a twenty-two karat gold ‘Boy George’ name plate around her neck. And his women had to be on point. “He always liked everything spotless, house, clothing. He never liked to see anything dirty.” One girlfriend said. “He’d bring home a whole lotta videos and I would just watch TV. I didn’t have to get a job. I was to cook and clean and take care of things and I would get an allowance at the end of the week.”
“They used to pass by the clubs- Riddler, Peoples and Kamikazi on Westchester, two blocks off of White Plains Road. Two opposite each other.” Sport says. “It was called herpes triangle. A lot of fucking was going on. Dudes weren’t going in. The party was outside the club. The bitches used to come to see who was driving up. Boy George and them drove up in all new cars, tricked out, jeweled up. All the broads were trying to get with them.
Richer than Frank Lucas. More powerful than the Mafia. He was the biggest drug dealer in America. In 1973 he jumped bail and disappeared with 15 million dollars. He has never been seen again. Nearly four decades later, the fate of Frank Matthews remains a total mystery.
“It’s as if Matthews dropped off the face of the earth…”, explains Mike Pizzi, a retired U.S. Marshal who was involved with the hunt for Matthews.
The documentary features rare archival footage, interviews with numerous sources who previously haven t talked on camera about Frank Matthews and never before seen photos of Matthews. The documentary explores several intriguing questions: how was Matthews been able to operate for several years without being detected? What was his relationship with La Cosa Nostra? Why did the CIA get involved in the Matthews investigation? Why has the mystery of his disappearance been so difficult to solve?
Born in 1944 in Durham, North Carolina, Matthews left his hometown when he was a teenager, going first to Philadelphia and then to New York City. By the early 70′s, Frank Matthews had become America’s biggest drug kingpin. His organization, headquartered in Brooklyn, stretched across more than 20 states, and he became the only Black gangster to establish direct ties to the French Connection heroin pipeline. Matthews’ organization eventually outgrew even the Italian Mafia, and when he built himself a mansion in Staten Island’s most exclusive neighborhood (and across the street from mobsters Paul Castellano and Three Finger Brown), he found himself on the verge of a war with La Cosa Nostra.
What happened to Frank Matthews? Despite one of the largest manhunts in US history, there is no proof as to whether he is alive or dead.