Quick Take
- Narration: Giacomaro narrates his own story with the brash confidence of someone who has told these tales many times before, which is both the book’s greatest strength and an occasional credibility problem.
- Themes: Organized crime adjacency and ambition, the psychology of the con artist, the limits of FBI cooperation
- Mood: Fast-talking and darkly comic with flashes of genuine regret
- Verdict: A compulsive true crime listen that works best if you allow for the narrator’s self-aggrandizing tendencies while still finding the underlying story genuinely strange and revealing.
I put on The King of Con during a long drive and arrived at my destination ninety minutes late because I sat in the parking lot finishing it. That is the kind of pacing this memoir has. Thomas Giacomaro, who coauthored the book with journalist Natasha Stoynoff, reads his own story, and there is something almost vertigo-inducing about hearing a confessed con man narrate his own life in his own voice. You are never entirely sure where the self-presentation ends and the candor begins, which turns out to be entirely appropriate for the subject matter.
The premise is genuinely outlandish: a Jersey kid with a talent for numbers and salesmanship works his way into the New Jersey trucking industry’s mob-adjacent world, builds relationships with New York and Philadelphia crime families, goes on the lam in South Africa and Europe, returns to the US with millions in diamonds stuffed in his underwear, becomes an FBI informant without actually ratting anyone out, continues running high-finance schemes, and eventually ends up in federal prison for over a decade, from which he manages an early release by charming everyone from the warden down. That any of this is true is remarkable. That Giacomaro tells it with such relish makes it irresistible.
Our Take on The King of Con
The best comparison for this book is not a crime classic but a conversation with a very good storyteller who happens to have genuinely extraordinary material. One reviewer compared it favorably to a Sopranos episode or a Godfather film, while noting that the difference is it is all real. Another found themselves drawn to tears despite considering themselves a tough guy, which suggests that beneath the bravado there is a genuine portrait of a man who sabotaged his own considerable abilities at every turn. One of the more perceptive reviews noted that Giacomaro comes across as a shrewd businessman who chose the wrong path, and that the book carries a touch of lament alongside the self-congratulation. That lament is what saves it from being pure performance.
Why Listen to The King of Con
Self-narration by a memoir subject is a gamble. Here it pays off because Giacomaro’s voice is the story. He speaks with the cadence of someone who has survived by reading rooms and adjusting his pitch in real time, and that energy comes through even in an audio format. The final section of the book, dealing with his prison years and his uncertain post-release status back in New Jersey, is where the tone shifts from entertaining to genuinely reflective. Giacomaro handles that shift with more grace than you might expect from someone who spent the previous five hours describing himself in superlatives. The book is cowritten with Stoynoff, and her structural hand becomes more apparent in these quieter sections.
What to Watch For in The King of Con
The valid criticism of this memoir is that Giacomaro tells the story he wants to tell. A skeptical reader noted that he comes across more as a rogue businessman than a genuine mobster, and that his claimed importance to the crime families he dealt with may be inflated. The memoir is cowritten but not externally fact-checked in the journalistic sense, and readers should hold the more spectacular details with appropriate looseness. The value is less as a precise accounting of criminal activity than as a portrait of a particular kind of American ambition that ran sideways at every turn while its subject kept finding reasons to believe the next move would finally work out.
Who Should Listen to The King of Con
True crime listeners who prefer memoir to investigative reporting will find this a satisfying listen. It requires tolerance for self-mythologizing: Giacomaro is clearly still performing even as he claims to be confessing. Listeners who prefer their crime nonfiction rigorously documented and externally verified may find the one-sided perspective frustrating. At under nine hours, it moves quickly enough that even skeptical listeners can enjoy the ride without over-investing in the accuracy of the more colorful claims.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is The King of Con a reliable account of Giacomaro’s criminal activities?
It is a memoir, which means it reflects Giacomaro’s own perspective and memory. The book is co-written with journalist Natasha Stoynoff, but it is not an investigative work with external corroboration. Readers should treat the more colorful claims with some skepticism while still engaging with the underlying story.
Does Giacomaro name specific organized crime figures in the book?
He discusses his relationships with New York and Philadelphia crime families in general terms and names some individuals, though the specifics become strategically vague when it comes to his role as an FBI informant. Part of his claim to fame is that he cooperated with the FBI without delivering useful testimony against anyone.
How does self-narration affect the listening experience?
Giacomaro narrates with the same salesman energy that defines his story, which gives the book an immediacy and authenticity that a hired narrator could not replicate. The downside is that the performance leans into his preferred self-image, which listeners should factor into how they receive the more self-aggrandizing passages.
Is there a sequel or follow-up to The King of Con?
As of this review there is no published sequel. The book ends with Giacomaro back in New Jersey with his mob contacts still calling and the US Attorney’s office still watching, which is a deliberately unresolved note. Whether that situation has developed into further published material has not been publicly announced.
