The Battle for Las Vegas: The Law vs. The Mob (19 page)

Not long after the bombing, the gambler departed Las Vegas for California, and eventually Florida. Like so many of the killings and attempted killings in the realm of the mobsters, no one was ever charged in the attack.

The End for Geri

Just over a month after her ex-husband narrowly escaped death, Geri Rosenthal’s life ended in California. On November 6, she stumbled into a seedy Sunset Boulevard motel and started screaming, then fell unconscious to the floor. She was transported to a hospital, but died three days later without coming out of her coma. The coroner ruled her death was the result of an accidental drug overdose. The cash and jewelry she had left Las Vegas with were never found, apparently having been spent, stolen, or both.

Kent Clifford and other involved law enforcers don’t necessarily believe in coincidence, or that the coroner’s findings in Geri Rosenthal’s case were completely accurate. “A skilled hit man can very easily administer a lethal dose of drugs and make it appear as though the deceased accidentally did it himself,” Clifford said. “Geri had been married to Lefty and sleeping with Tony. She knew a lot and she was a druggie. That combination made her a potential threat to a lot of people. It’s my opinion that she was murdered, but in such a way that it will remain impossible to prove.” Many of Clifford’s former colleagues agree with his assessment.

McCarthy Defeated

After an exceptionally bitter campaign, John Moran defeated John McCarthy at the ballot box on November 2 to become the sheriff-elect of Clark County. One of Moran’s main campaign promises was that he would bring the prostitution problem under control within 90 days of taking office. He fulfilled that promise.

Sheriff Moran also continued the department’s aggressive fight against organized crime, minus some of the familiar faces. Kent Clifford left Metro at the end of McCarthy’s term. Gene Smith stayed on, but he and some of the other detectives were transferred out of the Intelligence Bureau and replaced with officers of Moran’s choosing.

On December 23, Sheriff McCarthy received a letter from FBI Director William Webster, thanking him for his efforts against organized crime. The Frank Cullotta case and the outstanding cooperation between Metro and the FBI under McCarthy’s guidance were specifically mentioned.

Twenty-two years after leaving office, John McCarthy reflected on his term. “I had a lot of disappointment in the outcome of the 1982 election, but I have no regrets. I doubt I would change much if I had it to do over again. The situation required a hard-ass approach to keep others from running all over you. And the harder they got, the more it steeled me.

“Organized crime is so insidious and pervasive that the general public doesn’t understand its influence on their everyday lives. Some people in Las Vegas feared that the common criminals would prevail if organized crime wasn’t there to keep them in line. They didn’t grasp that the mobsters were nothing but common criminals themselves.

“I almost ended up going to jail myself over the Consent Decree. Some of my team wanted me to make a political statement by not complying with the court order and being jailed for contempt. However, in my view there wasn’t any option other than to comply, using the full powers of my office. We got the job done and that’s all that matters.

“The Intelligence Bureau was a large player in my administration. The outcome of the election resulted in the reorganization of that unit and, in my opinion, took the focus away from the fight against organized crime. I believe that what we worked so hard to accomplish, often at great risk, was diminished to some degree. That was indeed a major regret for me.”

Kent Clifford shared his thoughts about his days as the chief of the Intelligence Bureau with the
Review-Journal
in early 1983. “The public often thought organized-crime figures were something special. They weren’t. Most of them were street punks. They were common thieves, thugs, murderers, and they scratched and clawed their way to the top. It didn’t really take a lot of brains.”

Comparing the war on the gangsters to the one in Vietnam, Clifford said, “We [Metro and the FBI] had to play by the rules and within limited budgets. Anybody who can out-finance you and has no rules will give you fits. In Vietnam, we played by the rules and nobody else did. So we didn’t win that war.”

Clifford cited the turning of Frank Cullotta as one of the high points of Metro’s war on organized crime. “Frank Cullotta was a major accomplishment, not only for this department, but for the nation. There are very few local departments who can make that kind of a claim. I think we did very well as an intelligence unit and I have a letter from the director of the FBI commending me for my four years.”

Former Commander Clifford also believes that the murder of Allen Dorfman had a Las Vegas connection. “I think why Dorfman was killed is because he had knowledge of everything that was going on in Las Vegas. He knew Spilotro and was a close associate of [Chicago mobster] Joey Lombardo. If Dorf-man had lived and become a government informant, he would have shaken Nevada to its roots.”

Clifford has a strong opinion that John McCarthy did a good job and deserved another term. “There is no doubt, and nobody can refute this, if there hadn’t been a John McCarthy, there wouldn’t have been a new jail built in Clark County. If the voters had given him another four years, crime would have decreased significantly.”

In summing up, Clifford said, “To erase organized crime will take a national effort, a national opinion that organized crime cannot be tolerated.”

Kent Clifford stands by those comments today.

11

Indictment in Chicago

O
n January 27, 1983, Richard Daley, state’s attorney for Cook County, Illinois, and Chicago mayoral candidate, held a press conference. He announced publicly that Tony Spilotro had been indicted for the 1962 torture killings of James Miraglia and William McCarthy, the M&M murders. The indictment was based in large part on the grand-jury testimony of Frank Cullotta. According to Daley, Cullotta had testified that he helped Tony set up the slayings, but hadn’t actually been present when the murders were committed. Following the press conference, Spilotro was arrested in Las Vegas and jailed without bail to await extradition to Illinois.

Oscar Goodman learned of Tony’s troubles when he returned to Vegas after winning a major, but unrelated, case in Florida. He rushed from the airport to his office, then over to the jail to see his client. A few hours later the accused murderer was released on bail. Goodman’s ability to spring a client facing extradition on such serious charges raised some eyebrows in law enforcement and legal circles. Before the case was settled, Spilotro’s bail wouldn’t be the only thing to cause bewilderment.

The Ant and Goodman spent a substantial amount of time preparing for the trial. In Chicago they conferred regularly with Herb Barsky, an attorney who had long represented Spilotro in the Windy City. Barsky had the reputation of knowing how to work the system and being able to get things done.

When Judge Thomas J. Maloney was assigned to hear the case, both Barsky and Spilotro were pleased. In fact, they were so impressed with Judge Maloney that they suggested to Goodman they should forego a jury trial and let Maloney decide Tony’s guilt or innocence. It was an idea that didn’t initially sit well with the Las Vegas attorney.

Goodman explained his feelings about trying a murder case without a jury to author John L. Smith: “Tony liked the idea, but in my career I’d tried it only once, and that was in Las Vegas at the insistence of a client who was up on income-tax charges and had drawn Harry Claiborne as a judge in federal court. I knew Harry. The client knew Harry. He insisted they were close friends and that the judge would never rule against him because of that friendship. I refused at first, but he insisted. And I’m convinced that Claiborne was harder on him than he would have been had my client taken a damn jury trial. Claiborne convicted him and threw the book at him.”

In spite of his misgivings, Goodman went along with the wishes of Spilotro and Barsky. However, his preparation was virtually the same as it would have been if Tony were being judged by a jury of his peers. He believed the government’s chief witness, Frank Cullotta, whom the lawyer called the “King Rat,” was a liar and would lie on the stand. He planned to use Cullotta’s record, including his admission to the Lisner murder, to discredit and neutralize his testimony.

Trying Times

Back in Las Vegas, Vincent Spilotro closely followed his father’s case, which was broadcast on Chicago TV station WGN. While the teenager watched the television, he engaged in another pastime he had come to enjoy: drinking alcohol.

As the son of the reputed Las Vegas crime kingpin, Vincent had experienced a rather unique childhood. He was usually well-heeled financially and able to do things that most kids his age weren’t. While his status could be viewed as beneficial in many cases, it also had some pitfalls. One of them was the ease with which he could get involved with vices such as booze. Vincent developed a taste for Jack Daniels and it became his drink of choice. He wasn’t exactly a social drinker, either. By the time of the M&M trial, the young Spilotro could polish off a fifth of JD in just a few hours. As the case unfolded, Vincent was under a great deal of stress. He relieved some of that anxiety by the use of his bottled ally.

“I’m watching my dad’s trial on TV and hearing that he could get the death penalty if convicted. I couldn’t go to school. I was paralyzed. I sat at home watching and drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels. But he called me every day,” Vincent recalled. He later heard those conversations when they were replayed on law-enforcement wiretap tapes.

But after all the evidence was in and the judge was deliberating, Tony didn’t call. “So I’m drunk. I’m holding a bottle of Jack Daniels and I call him. I screamed at him because he didn’t call from the courthouse.”

For Vincent, this was a period of torment. But his father, the man whose life was on the line, remained calm, cool, and upbeat. He exhibited none of the anxiety attacks and heart trouble that later kept him in bed for days at a time. On the contrary, in Chicago Tony arose early, ate well, and showed his lawyer around the Windy City during the evening. Did the Ant know something his son didn’t?

Acquittal

Tony Spilotro was acquitted of the charges against him. After careful deliberation, Judge Maloney ruled that the prosecution hadn’t proved its case beyond a reasonable doubt. According to Goodman, as quoted in John L. Smith’s
Of Rats and Men
, the decision was somewhat of a surprise to him.

“In Illinois courts, after the prosecution rests its case, it’s common for the defense to file a motion to dismiss due to a lack of evidence. In Tony’s case, it was obvious the prosecution suffered from a lack of evidence. I made what I thought was an excellent argument and the judge ruled against me. I was devastated. In my mind, I’d clearly shown the flaws in the case. It left me taken aback a bit. I wasn’t going to put Tony on the stand. I was really worried.

“I said to Tony, ‘We’re history.’ Tony said, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

“In retrospect, it should have made me wonder more than it did at the time. I was too worried about putting on a defense. The defense was brief. Obviously, my client hadn’t been at the scene of the crime and Frank Cullotta was a proven liar. I had shown that much when I cross-examined him. I had a sleepless night, which is usual for me, prior to making the closing argument in the case. The prosecution got to go last. Finally, the judge came back and ruled the prosecution hadn’t proved guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.”

It looked as though Oscar Goodman had worked his courtroom magic once again. But there were questions. Had Goodman’s skills really been necessary or had the outcome of the trial been pre-determined?

Judge Maloney

In 1993, ten years after the M&M trial, Thomas Maloney, the presiding judge, had the dubious distinction of being the only Illinois judge ever convicted of fixing a murder case. Although Maloney wasn’t charged in conjunction with the Spilotro trial, a closer look at his history and the Chicago court system of the time may help explain why Spilotro and Barsky insisted on foregoing a jury trial and why Tony wasn’t overly concerned when Goodman’s motion to dismiss was denied.

Thomas Maloney was a practicing defense attorney in Chicago in 1977 when he was appointed by the Illinois Supreme Court to fill a vacancy in the Circuit Court. One year later, he ran for that office and was elected by the voters. Maloney retained the position until his retirement in 1990.

In the early 1980s, the feds launched Operation Greylord, designed to investigate suspicions of corruption in the Chicago courts. One of the key players in a subsequent probe, Operation Gambat, which began in 1986, was Robert Cooley, a Chicago criminal defense lawyer in the 1970s and ’80s. Cooley represented, and fixed cases for, organized-crime figures. He was very successful in purchasing influence in the courts and didn’t lose a case for approximately four years.

“I had no problem paying people money to make sure I got a decision in a case. In fact, I wanted to win all my cases and I did,” Cooley explained. But all that changed in the late 1980s when a client asked the attorney to arrange to have a witness murdered. That’s when Robert Cooley became an FBI informant.

As a result of Operations Greylord and Gambat, 92 individuals, including defense attorneys, bailiffs, clerks, and 13 judges, were indicted. One of those 13 was Thomas Maloney. Maloney was convicted in 1993 on charges of racketeering conspiracy, racketeering, extortion under color of official right, and obstruction of justice. These violations of the law all arose from three cases in which Judge Maloney took bribes in cases before him. In 1994 he was sentenced to 15 years in prison and fined $200,000.

The first of the three cases took place in 1981. In that instance, three hit men were accused of attempted murder. During the course of the trial, the victim died and the charges were elevated to murder. Defense attorney Robert Cooley was retained by political friends of the defendants and assured that Judge Maloney could be bought, but that the price would be high. The politicians contributed $100,000 to grease the various hands involved in the fix, including Maloney’s. At trial, the judge admitted as evidence a dying declaration from the victim identifying the defendants as his killers. But he then ruled that the declaration was unreliable, resulting in acquittals for all three defendants. After turning informant, Cooley covertly taped a conversation with one of the politicians who acknowledged the case had been fixed.

The next charged bribe occurred in 1982 and was also a murder case. This time a single defendant and a different defense attorney were involved. Maloney wasn’t able to let the defendant off completely, because the case was receiving a lot of media attention and was considered too hot for an out-and-out acquittal. But that didn’t mean the judge couldn’t be of service. As a compromise, Maloney offered to acquit on felony murder, convict on voluntary manslaughter, and impose a nine-year sentence. That outcome was preferable to the sentence of at least 20 years that would have resulted from a murder conviction and the deal was made. After a trial before Judge Maloney, the defendant was convicted of the lesser charge and received the promised nine-year sentence.

The final charged bribe was in a 1985 case and consisted of two defendants accused of murdering two men. This time the fix was arranged, but it didn’t come to fruition. A middleman negotiated a fee of $10,000 for the defendants to receive acquittals after a bench trial. Things fell apart when the prosecution put on such a strong case—including three credible eyewitnesses to the murders—that Judge Maloney saw no way he could let the defendants off. Through the middleman, he sent word that he was going to return the bribe money. Maloney was talked into hanging on to the cash until the defense put on its case. If they could discredit the government’s evidence, perhaps Maloney could still deliver. The defense flopped. Maloney found both men guilty and sentenced them to death.

Do these incidents mean conclusively that the Spilotro trial was fixed? No, they don’t. They simply raise a possibility that can logically be considered. But at least two people believe that Tony was in no danger when he faced Judge Maloney.

On November 11, 2003, Las Vegas TV station KVBC aired a segment on its nightly news show called “Another Side of Oscar Goodman.” The focus of the piece was the M&M murder trial, whether Tony Spilotro had beaten the rap due to a crooked judge and, if so, had Goodman been aware of it. One of the guests interviewed by reporter Glen Meek was former mob lawyer-turned-informant Robert Cooley. The following dialogue took place between Meek and Cooley:

Meek to Cooley: Was the murder case involving Mr. Spilotro fixed?

Cooley: Absolutely it was fixed. Any of the murderers, any other of the organized-crime people, if they got arrested and indicted, their cases would be assigned to Tom Maloney and he would throw the cases out. He was the one that was ... they got Tony Spilotro’s case assigned to him. I cannot see an attorney representing someone like Tony Spilotro taking a bench trial unless he knew the result.

Meek [narrative]: In a new biography by John L. Smith, Goodman says he agreed to a bench trial because his Chicago co-counsel suggested it and Spilotro insisted. The Chicago lawyer—who is now deceased—was an attorney in another case in front of Maloney that was also allegedly fixed. Maloney ultimately found Spilotro not guilty.

Cooley: Tony, well, Tony was laughing about it. I mean, I saw Tony on many occasions before and after. I mean, Tony made it clear the case was fixed and he had no problems with the case.

Meek [narrative]: Though Maloney was never charged with taking a bribe in the Spilotro murder trial, it did surface during Maloney’s sentencing for fixing other cases. But the evidence was not deemed sufficient to increase Maloney’s prison term.

What does Mr. Goodman have to say about this? Mayor Goodman declined an on-camera interview, saying, quote, “I’m not going to give any credence to some jerk shooting his mouth off.”

By phone, Goodman said of the Spilotro trial: All I can tell you is if it was fixed, I never knew it. I tried my heart out in that case.

Robert Cooley remains convinced Spilotro’s murder trial was rigged.

Meek to Cooley: Is it likely in your opinion that his attorney, Oscar Goodman—who is now mayor of Las Vegas—didn’t know it was fixed?

Cooley: Well, it’s possible I’ll be seven-foot tall when I wake up in the morning. But the odds are pretty good against it [end interview].

Joe Yablonsky, the former Las Vegas FBI chief, had earlier expressed his reservations about the legitimacy of the M&M trial. In his letter to the editor of the
Las Vegas Review-Journal
in April 1999, Yablonsky, talking about Oscar Goodman, said:

“Why did he and his co-counsel in Chicago waive a jury in the M&M boys’ homicide case (the victim’s head was placed in a vise, popping his eyeballs) perpetrated by his beloved client, “gentle” Tony “the Ant” Spilotro? Waiving a jury trial in a homicide case is virtually unheard of. It places the fate of the defendant in the judgment of one person, the judge, as opposed to 12 jurors. The judge in that case was subsequently convicted of corruption in an FBI sting operation known as Greylord.”

More Troubles for Tony

Whatever the true circumstances of the M&M trial, Tony Spilotro was in the clear once more and free to refocus his attention on Las Vegas. And he had more problems awaiting him there. During the Chicago trial, Tony was charged in the 1979 murder of Jerry Lisner. This was another case brought as the result of testimony from Frank Cullotta. Although Cullotta had admitted pulling the trigger, he said that he was acting under Spilotro’s orders. Even with everything Tony had going against him at the time and the seriousness of the charges, Goodman was able to arrange for his client to stay free on his own recognizance on the new charges. On top of that, he made the agreement via a long-distance phone call from Chicago to Las Vegas, surprising most of those following Spilotro’s exploits.