While those controversies raged on, in October the local chapter of the NAACP accused Metro of mistreating blacks. They alleged that some cops operated under the premise that all blacks were criminals, or at least prone to crime, and weren’t entitled to the same rights afforded other citizens. Sheriff McCarthy responded, admitting that misconduct could sometimes occur in a department with 900 sworn personnel. He argued that any mistreatment of blacks involved disrespect and not physical abuse. One officer was already under investigation for misconduct and other cases were pending, he assured them. McCarthy also used the charges as an opportunity to reach out to the black community, asking that a dialogue be established to make sure similar complaints were handled fairly.
Also in October, Kent Clifford and the Intelligence Bureau found their way into the media limelight in a negative way. Two local gun-shop owners, who had been arrested for criminal possession of brass knuckles, questioned the tactics used by Clifford’s detectives during the investigation that led to their arrests. After making their complaint, the pair claimed they received anonymous threatening phone calls. A female police informant they knew supposedly told them that the cops were planning to retaliate against them. It wouldn’t be the last time Commander Clifford and his officers would be accused of using questionable methods.
October 1979 ended with the newspapers reporting that McCarthy had filed to divorce his wife of nearly 22 years, from whom he had long been estranged. He was remarried to Sandra Greene in 1980.
On the organized-crime front, two incidents occurred during the year that later had a major impact on the law’s altercation with Tony Spilotro.
Frank Cullotta
In early 1979 a new player was added to the Spilotro team. Frank Cullotta, a Chicago native and boyhood pal of the Ant, arrived in Las Vegas. Cullotta didn’t just show up out of the blue. He had an extensive criminal record and had recently been released from an Illinois prison. Tony had gone to Illinois, where he and some of the old gang threw Frank a coming-out party. At that celebration, Tony extended an invitation for the 41-year-old ex-con to join him in Vegas. Cullotta accepted the offer and was soon enjoying life in Sin City as one of Spilotro’s trusted lieutenants.
An accomplished burglar, Cullotta oversaw the operation of the Hole in the Wall Gang. However, thievery wasn’t his only forte. He was also capable of violence and carried out killings when ordered.
The Lisner Murder
At approximately 4:30 a.m. on October 11, 1979, a dead man was found floating face down in the swimming pool of his residence at 2302 Rawhide Avenue in Las Vegas. He’d been shot in the head several times by a small-caliber handgun. The deceased was 46-year-old Sherwin “Jerry” Lisner. His wife Jeannie, a cocktail waitress at the Aladdin, found the body. She’d left work early after becoming concerned when her husband failed to answer her telephone calls and made the grisly discovery.
According to investigating police officers, Lisner had put up quite a fight. Bullet holes were discovered throughout the inside of the dwelling and blood was found on the walls and floor leading from the garage, through the residence, and out to the pool. Although the house had been ransacked, the cops didn’t believe robbery or burglary was the motive. They declined to speculate on the reason Lisner was killed, but they did have a theory on how the murder went down.
The killer, or killers, knocked on the garage door, surprising Lisner. When he answered the knock, the shooting started. Although wounded, the victim attempted to escape his assailant, running through his home, the would-be killer in close pursuit and bullets flying. After a valiant effort to survive, Lisner’s luck ran out when he reached the pool. No murder weapon was found and no suspect named.
But the police had their suspicions on the why and who of it. They knew that the dead man had mob connections. He’d been arrested by the FBI on July 11 and charged with interstate transportation of stolen property, aiding and abetting, grand larceny, and conspiracy. Free on $75,000 bail, Lisner was scheduled to go on trial October 29, in U.S. District Court in Washington, D.C.
Lisner was also known to have been acquainted with Tony Spilotro, though he wasn’t considered to have been a member of the Ant’s crew. He’d been rumored to be a part-time informant for the Drug Enforcement Agency and was believed to have been negotiating with the FBI to work out a deal in the cases pending against him in Washington. Those particular charges had no direct ties to Spilotro or the Outfit, but Tony was aware the feds wanted him bad. If they got Lisner talking, what guarantee was there that the conversation wouldn’t include Tony and his Las Vegas activities?
Metro investigators knew all this and drew the logical conclusion that in Spilotro’s mind, Lisner had to be considered a threat. And, as everyone was learning, people in that position tended to meet violent ends. So the police had a pretty good idea that Tony was behind the Lisner murder, but they couldn’t prove it at the moment. A couple of years later their suspicions bore fruit. Frank Cullotta admitted that he was the triggerman in the killing of Jerry Lisner.
In Of Rats and Men, author John L. Smith explains the Lisner murder this way. Spilotro, growing increasingly paranoid under law-enforcement pressure, decided not to take any chances with the potential snitch. He assigned Frank Cullotta to do the hit. The killer in turn tapped Hole in the Wall Gang member Wayne Matecki to assist him. The pair drove to Lisner’s house on the night of October 10. Cullotta went to the door while Matecki remained in the car monitoring a police scanner. When his target answered the door, Cullotta talked his way inside and when Lisner turned his back, shot him twice in the head.
The situation turned a bit surreal at that point, as Smith quotes Cullotta. “He turns around and looks at me and says, ‘What are you doing?’ Then he takes off running through the kitchen toward the garage.
“I actually look at the gun like, what the fuck have I got, blanks in here? I take off after him and empty the rest into his head.”
Cullotta eventually accomplished his task, but only after Matecki had to bring him additional ammunition. In all, he shot Lisner 10 times before dragging the body outside and dumping it in the pool. Jerry Lisner was dead, but his murder subsequently played a major role in the downfall of the man who had ordered his execution: Tony Spilotro.
8
1980
The first year of the new decade saw continuing growth in Las Vegas Valley. The population reached 461,826, and 12 million tourists dropped in. New York, New York by Frank Sinatra made it to the number-two spot on the pop-music charts. It was also an eventful year for Sheriff McCarthy, and for Tony Spilotro and his pursuers.
In January, the local newspapers reported that the homicide rate in Clark County had reached a record high and the overall crime rate was also on the rise. These statistics provided fodder for McCarthy’s critics, who were watching his performance with a sharp eye.
In February, the news hit that the Sheriff’s son had been arrested for selling narcotics to an undercover officer. To his credit, McCarthy had advance knowledge of the investigation and made no attempt to interfere. Still, it was a difficult time for the county’s top lawman.
“I had received information from field officers that my oldest son, Michael, had been observed in the vicinity of dope dens and in the company of dope dealers,” McCarthy remembers. “I sent word back to the officers that Michael was to receive no special treatment. If he was in the wrong, they should arrest him because he knew better.
“Michael and his brother had the same upbringing, attended the same schools, and had mostly the same teachers. Brian worked his way through college, graduate school, and law school. Today, he’s a successful attorney licensed to practice in Nevada, California, and Arizona. Michael’s life took almost an opposite road. I’ll go to my grave never understanding why the drug problem happened.”
Right on the heels of the disclosure about his son, Sheriff McCarthy sustained another blow. A judge ruled that the law creating the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department was unconsti
tutional. The proponents of deconsolidation had won a major victory, dampened only by the judge’s decision to stay the dissolution of the department until McCarthy could appeal to the Nevada Supreme Court.
Calling the ruling “a severe blow to the concept of Metro,” the Sheriff vowed to fight for the survival of his agency. In addition to battling in the courts, he appealed to the public to mobilize on his side. The fate of Metro would remain unresolved for more than a year. The uncertainty placed additional strain on McCarthy and all the department’s employees, both sworn and civilian.
But the police weren’t the only ones under stress. Around that same time, Lefty Rosenthal’s worst fears came true: The affair between his wife and Tony Spilotro became public.
Blowup
As time went by, both Geri and Tony had become increasingly careless about keeping their adultery under wraps.
“Spilotro openly flaunted his relationship with Geri as a show of power. He could have had dozens of women, younger and prettier. It was a stupid thing to do,” Kent Clifford said.
For Geri’s part, early in the year she began appearing in her favorite haunts all decked out in a mink coat and diamond ring that generated ooohs and ahhhs from her cronies. She wasn’t shy about divulging the source of the adornments: Tony Spilotro.
The word was out. It had to be embarrassing for Lefty, but he chose to ignore rather than confront the situation. It was a strategy that worked for several months, until everything came to a head.
It was September 8. Geri Rosenthal had been out all night. When she got home at around 9 a.m., she was high on drugs, booze, or both. Finding herself locked out of the house, she became enraged. Getting back into her Mercedes, she repeatedly rammed her car into the rear of Lefty’s parked Cadillac. There was damage to each vehicle, but they both remained drivable. The commotion brought Lefty out to his front porch and a number of neighbors onto their lawns. A security guard called the police.
At the sight of her husband, Geri exited her car and took up a position on the lawn, shouting at him. She said the FBI wanted to talk with her and she just might go see them. She also announced that Tony Spilotro was her “sponsor” (protector) and wanted to know what Lefty planned to do about it.
During her tirade a police car pulled up and the officers tried using their verbal skills to calm down the out-of-control woman. Soon after the police got there, another car arrived. Nancy Spilotro was the driver.
“As I remember that morning, Lefty called me and said that Geri was outside the house raising hell. He asked if I’d come over and see if I could help,” Nancy Spilotro said in a 2004 interview. “I went right over. I was still in my pajamas, covered by a robe.”
While the police continued trying to reason with Geri, she pulled a pearl-handled revolver from under her clothing and waved it in the general direction of her husband. The police officers dove for cover behind their car. Neighbors scurried for safety. Lefty remained where he was, seemingly unable to move. That was when the five-foot 97-pound Nancy Spilotro sprang into action. She launched herself at the other woman.
“I must have been quite a sight, flying through the air in my pajamas and robe,” she laughed. Funny or not, the diminutive Spilotro was effective. She wrestled the larger woman to the ground and disarmed her. With the danger over and additional police cars on the scene, the spectators returned to their positions to watch the rest of the action.
Geri decided this was an appropriate time to make her move. She told the police she wanted to go into the house to get some personal items, and then she’d leave. An officer escorted her while Lefty was made to wait outside. The keys to the safe deposit box were among the things Geri collected while inside. When she was finished, she told the officers she had to go to the bank to take care of some business and she didn’t want her husband to interfere. The police said they’d accompany her and make sure she was able to do her banking undisturbed.
It was an odd convoy that headed toward the bank. Geri was in the lead, the police behind her, and Lefty bringing up the rear. Both of the Rosenthal vehicles looked like they were survivors from a demolition derby.
Upon arriving at the bank, Geri went inside and emptied the safe deposit box of an estimated $200,000 in cash and $1 million in jewelry. An increasingly frustrated Lefty was held at bay outside.
According to the police report of the incident, after leaving the bank, “Mrs. Rosenthal jumped back into her car and took off at a fairly high rate of speed,” in the direction of California.
Shortly afterward, Geri’s father received a phone call from Tony Spilotro at his home in California. “You know a lot, but you don’t know anything. Understand?” the gangster said. The message apparently had its desired effect. Subsequent attempts by the FBI and Metro to interview Geri were rebuffed.
Three days later, on September 11, Lefty filed for divorce. When it was finalized the following January, he was awarded custody of the children and ordered to pay Geri $5,000 per month in alimony.
Although there may have been some moments of humor involved, the highly publicized event didn’t generate any laughter from Tony’s bosses in Chicago.
Turmoil at Metro
A bombshell story authored by reporter Paul Price appeared in the Las Vegas Sun on April 3. Two veteran lawmen believed they were under surveillance and investigation by Metro. One of the alleged victims was Beecher Avants. The former Metro detective had resigned when McCarthy was elected and taken a job as Chief Investigator with the Clark County District Attorney’s Office. The second man was none other than Undersheriff John Moran. Sheriff McCarthy, who reportedly had sanctioned the investigations, declined immediate comment. The article did point out that both men were potential candidates to oppose the Sheriff in the 1982 election.
“I was shocked when I read that story,” John McCarthy said in 2004. “There had been a strained relationship between Moran and me since I won the election. I think he saw himself as the eventual successor to Ralph Lamb and my election screwed things up. I tried to assuage those feelings by giving him an active role in decision-making. But he never seemed to take an active interest.
“Prior to that article I thought we had been making some progress in smoothing things over. We had been getting together for dinners along with our wives and it seemed to me we were getting on the right track. After reading the Price story, I felt like I had been stabbed in the back. My first thought was why? If he really thought those things were true, why didn’t he confront me? I think I could have proved the allegations weren’t factual.”
To back up his argument, McCarthy insisted that the surveillance and investigation described in the article would have taken a team of four or five officers unknown to the subject. The story named one detective, whom Moran knew personally. That officer would have been called in and confronted with the allegations. A private meeting would also have provided a chance for Moran to present any other evidence he had and given the Sheriff an opportunity to respond. Going directly to the press and making the matter public took that option off the table, of course.
“I called him [Moran] into my office when I got to work that morning and asked him those questions. He said he’d heard about the alleged investigation from some of his closest friends on Metro, but declined to name them. I told him I’d deal with the issue at a later time and ended the meeting.”
After Moran left, the Sheriff continued to ponder the incident. He came to the conclusion that some of the quotes in the piece attributed to Moran didn’t reflect the way his accuser normally expressed himself. McCarthy became convinced the whole thing was a hatchet job and that Moran had not acted on his own. In fact, he suspected that the Las Vegas Sun itself had made some sort of deal with Moran, possibly offering its support in the future election in return for his collaboration. There was no love lost between McCarthy and Sun owner Hank Greenspun, and the Sheriff believed the newspaper had a “get-McCarthy” attitude.
But Moran and Avants weren’t the only ones to all
ege the Sheriff was up to no good. “Several other politicos joined the hue and cry, claiming I was having them followed, too. They included Clark County Commissioners Manny Cortez and Jack Petitti, State Senator Floyd Lamb [Ralph Lamb’s brother], Las Vegas City Councilman Ron Lurie, and Harry Claiborne, a federal judge,” McCarthy said.
The Las Vegas Review-Journal ran a story the same day as the Paul Price article in which it was alleged that McCarthy was compiling an “enemies list” consisting of his political opponents. Commissioner Manny Cortez was quoted as saying Metro insiders had told him that he’d been under investigation for six months and some “compromising” information had been developed.
At a press conference the following day, McCarthy denied all the charges. He announced that he planned unspecified disciplinary action against John Moran for misconduct in taking his grievances directly to the media. Four days later Moran was fired; he vowed to fight his termination.
Politically, Sheriff McCarthy was at odds with some of the most powerful and influential people in Las Vegas and Clark County. These were differences that would never be reconciled.
As promised, John Moran took his case to court and in early June won a decision ordering him to be reinstated with all back pay and benefits on June 17. He returned to work, but announced his resignation just over a week later, saying he and McCarthy “will never get together on anything.”
Many of the political insiders saw Moran’s resignation as paving the way for him to challenge McCarthy in the next election.
On June 5, a page-two headline in The Valley Times read, “Metro Police Battle Erupts At City Hall.” The story cited a resolution calling for the city to keep the concept of Metro. The document was supposedly developed in a meeting between the mayor, a county commissioner, and Sheriff McCarthy. The city representatives were enraged for two reasons, saying the resolution was the equivalent of dropping their lawsuit to dissolve Metro, and because they hadn’t been included in the meeting at which the resolution was generated. The future of Metro remained in doubt.
The Battle for Las Vegas: The Law vs. The Mob Page 10