The Whitey Bulger trial: Blast from the past TOMMY DONAHUE was just a boy when his father was murdered in 1982. He still carries his dad's death certificate in his trouser pocket. It cites multiple gunshot wounds as the cause; Mr Donahue thinks it should also list the names of the gangsters who killed his father, and the rogue FBI agents who tipped them off. Michael Donahue, who was not a mobster, was giving a lift home to a wise-guy friend, Brian Halloran, who was suspected of snitching to the FBI. Both men were shot; Halloran at least 14 times. The hit was planned and carried out, prosecutors say, by Jim "Whitey" Bulger, a former gang boss now on trial in Boston. Mr Bulger (pictured) went on the lam in 1994, after hearing that he was about to be indicted. With his mistress, he disappeared for 16 years. It turned out he was living quietly in California, watching a lot of television. When he was caught in 2011, police found a stash of guns in his apartment walls and $800,000 in cash. Mr Bulger saw himself as a "good bad guy." When he and Stephen "the Rifleman" Flemmi, his closest associate, ran the Winter Hill Gang in South Boston, they gave the impression that they helped old people and kept their own neighbourhood drug-free. They did scare off drug dealers, but only those who refused to pay them. Prosecutors allege that Mr Bulger had at least 19 people murdered. He also gave guns and money to the Irish Republican Army, a terrorist group. Witnesses, including former hitmen and a moll, paint an unflattering picture of Mr Bulger. Even at 83, he still frightens many of them. He hated snitches; they tended to wind up dead. If he was worried that someone would crack under police questioning, he would have them killed. Mr Flemmi's girlfriend and stepdaughter were killed for knowing too much, prosecutors say. Ironically, Mr Bulger and Mr Flemmi were informers themselves, though they saw themselves as "strategists," not "snitches," according to "Whitey Bulger," a riveting book by Kevin Cullen and Shelley Murphy. Mr Bulger was especially close to his handler, John Connolly, a rogue FBI agent who grew up in the same housing project. He treated Mr Bulger as an "associate." Information flowed in both directions. It was Mr Connolly who tipped off Mr Bulger that he was about to be indicted. He is serving 40 years in prison. Kevin Weeks, Mr Bulger's former enforcer-turned government witness, has pinned several killings on Mr Bulger, including the Donahue-Halloran murders. Mr Weeks says he used a walkie-talkie to alert his comrades that Halloran was on the move with the code words: "The balloon is rising." Mr Bulger, in his "tow truck," a souped-up Chevrolet which could do 200mph, pulled up alongside Donahue's Datsun. With a masked accomplice, he allegedly shot both men inside. For nearly two decades, Mr Bulger and Mr Flemmi charged drug dealers and loan sharks "rent" for operating in South Boston. If one of their associates wanted to "retire," he had to pay a severance fee which could be six figures. Mr Bulger extorted money from legitimate businessmen as well as crooks. One builder spoke of the mob boss putting a gun to his face and a machine gun to his crotch and demanding $400,000. Mr Bulger pleads not guilty to all charges, though his lawyer admits he was an "organised criminal." Organised crime has evolved since his day. Italian- and Irish-American gangs must now compete with other groups. Earlier this year, 34 members of Russian-American crime groups were charged in New York with racketeering, fraud, illegal gambling and money laundering. The new breed of mobster is more sophisticated. Rather than demanding money from terrified shopkeepers, they often steal it silently in cyberspace. Their reach is global, not local. But they are less homicidal than the old guard. Gang-linked murders in America have fallen sharply since the mid-1990s (see chart). South Boston has changed, too. The courthouse where Mr Bulger is standing trial was built only in 1999. The waterfront, where he once pinched goods from the back of lorries, is now a thriving "innovation district." And Triple O's, a pub where he did "business," is now a sushi bar.