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.
Oscar Goodman himself had a lot on his plate other than Spilotro. In one of his major pending cases, the feds were hot on the trail of Allen Glick and his Argent-controlled casinos. The noose was tightening and a strategy to fight the government had to be developed.
Both warriors headed back to Nevada to prepare for the battles ahead.
12
The Skim
Much has been written and there have been several documentaries about various organized-crime families taking cash—“skimming”—from Las Vegas casinos. The skim money was removed from the casino prior to it officially being entered into the books as revenue. Taxes weren’t paid on this unreported income, a fact on which the Internal Revenue Service frowned. The casinos involved in these illegal operations became the equivalent of piggy banks for the Midwest crime bosses.
I’d read and seen accounts of how the skims worked, but I never fully appreciated the operation until I researched the subject for this book. Perhaps my lack of interest and understanding was due to looking at it as merely financial crimes, without realizing the amount of violence and intimidation involved to launch and maintain the scams. Or maybe it was because I’d failed to delve into the immense investigative effort it took to bring the perpetrators before the bar of justice.
Whatever the reason, as I learned that several of the murders attributed to Tony Spilotro involved protecting organized-crime’s casino interests, my attitude changed. This wasn’t just about financial wrongdoing. In fact, if it weren’t for the mob’s hidden ownership of and control over the casinos and the need to protect the status quo, there may never have been a Tony Spilotro and his gang in Las Vegas.
So, although Tony wasn’t one of the inside men in the casinos, the skim operations were part and parcel of the Spilotro era.
Two major investigations, called Strawman 1 and 2, involved the casinos owned by Argent Corporation, as well as the Tropicana. Many of the same players were involved with both, but the courts ruled that these were separate conspiracies. There were separate indictments, trials, and convictions. Some of the participants entered into plea deals and testified against their colleagues. Others gave testimony as unindicted co-conspirators. Several top mobsters from the Midwest went to prison.
A continuation of the Strawman investigations was called Strawman-Trans Sterling. This operation zeroed in on the Trans Sterling Corporation, another mob-controlled company that purchased Argent’s casino holdings and resulted in more gangsters going to prison.
From a law-enforcement standpoint, these investigations and subsequent conv
ictions marked the end of organized crime’s influence over the Las Vegas casinos.
The Families
Four Midwest organized-crime families were involved in the hidden ownership and skimming of the Argent-controlled casinos and the Tropicana: Chicago, Kansas City, Milwaukee, and Cleveland. They each had ownership and control and/or participated in the illegal removal of cash from the involved gaming establishments. Although all four shared in the money taken from the Tropicana, the courts ruled that it was a Kansas City operation and that the other three families weren’t involved in the covert ownership of that casino.
Allen Glick’s Argent Corporation was a different story than the Tropicana. Glick had a clean criminal record and could withstand the background check conducted by Nevada gaming regulators. So being the owner of record of multiple casinos wouldn’t be a problem. But he needed a large amount of money in order to purchase the Stardust, Fremont, Hacienda, and Marina. And at a time when not many reputable financial institutions were willing to invest in Vegas, the best source of that funding was the Teamster Central States Pension Fund (CSPF). Three of the four families—Milwaukee, Kansas City, and Cleveland—held influence over one or more of the CSPF trustees or union officials. Since any one trustee could veto the loans, cooperation among the families was necessary to assure the trustees and officials were all on board and that Glick got the money he needed. In return for their assistance in obtaining the funding, the families had effective control of Argent, with Glick serving as their front man. Shortly after the skim began, a dispute developed between Kansas City and Milwaukee. Chicago intervened and resolved the matter, then joined the conspiracy, taking a 25% cut of the action.
For the mobsters, it began as a marriage made in heaven. For gaming authorities and law enforcement, it was a nightmare. The lawmen came to realize that like a malignant tumor, the influence of organized crime in the Las Vegas casinos had to be cut out and destroyed. However, once the malignancy had taken root, removing it was easier said than done.
The Main Mob Players
The Chicago Outfit was the dominant family operating in Las Vegas. The two most powerful mobsters in Chicago at that time were Joe Aiuppa and Tony Accardo, the same men who had sent Tony Spilotro to Vegas. In addition, other members involved in the family’s Las Vegas business dealings were underboss John Cerone, West Side boss Joseph “Joey the Clown” Lombardo, Angelo LaPietra, and Allen Dorfman.
Kansas City, under the leadership of Nick Civella and his brother Carl, contributed underboss Carl “Tuffy” DeLuna, Anthony Chiavola, Sr., and Joe Agosto to the conspiracies. Although Chiavola resided in Chicago, he was a nephew of the Civella brothers and was more closely associated with their group.
Nick Civella was born Guiseppe Civello in Kansas City in 1927. At the age of 10 he was brought before juvenile authorities for “incorrigibility.” By the time he was 20, Nick had dropped out of school and had a lengthy arrest record for crimes such as car theft, gambling, and robbery. In 1957 he attended the infamous “gangland convention” in Apalachin, New York.
Due to his criminal history, Nick Civella was among the first people to be placed in Nevada’s “black book,” barring him from entering Nevada’s casinos. Undeterred by his exclusion, Civella frequently visited Las Vegas wearing wigs and fake beards to fool state gaming officials. During these forays, he usually stayed at the Tropicana or Dunes.
In Milwaukee, boss Frank “Frankie Bal” Balistrieri was the first mobster to be contacted by Allen Glick regarding the Teamster loans for Argent. Balistrieri’s mob had control of the loansharking, bookmaking, and vending-machine businesses in their city. Balistrieri himself had been convicted of income-tax evasion in 1967 and served two years in federal prison. During Frank’s absence, Peter Balistrieri, his brother and underboss, ran the show.
Milton Rockman represented Cleveland. He served as a bagman for the delivery of the purloined money and as a liaison person for Kansas City’s Carl DeLuna.
These talented criminals and their minions put together a plan that took millions of dollars from Las Vegas and put them into their own pockets.
Nick and Roy
In addition to his clout in Kansas City and with other mobsters around the country, Nick Civella had something else working for him: He was able to influence the decisions of the Teamster Central States Pension Fund through his control of Roy Williams, a Teamster official and its eventual president.
Williams, a decorated World War II combat veteran, returned to Kansas City after the war and resumed his job as a truck driver. He also became heavily involved in the Teamsters and rose through the leadership ranks with the backing of another rising star, Jimmy Hoffa.
Hoffa picked Williams to take over a troubled local in Wichita, and later Kansas City’s Local 41. It was then that he met Nick Civella and they became close personal friends. In 1952, Williams attended a secret meeting of Midwest mob leaders in Chicago, where Williams agreed to run the Kansas City Teamsters and in turn cooperate with his organized-crime friends. Williams discussed all major union problems with Civella before making a decision. If the two men couldn’t agree on a subject, Hoffa ordered Williams to “do what Nick wants.”
Hoffa was pleased with the way Williams worked with Civella and followed instructions. He rewarded his underling by appointing him as a trustee of the Central States Pension Fund. It was a powerful position, and Nick Civella certainly approved of his lackey occupying it.
When Frank Balistrieri needed help in assuring Argent got the Teamster money it needed, he knew Nick Civella would be able to deliver.
Argent
Allen R. Glick was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1942. He served in the military as a helicopter pilot during the war in Vietnam and later turned up in the San Diego area as a land developer. In early 1974, Glick contacted Frank Balistrieri in Milwaukee, seeking assistance in obtaining loans from the Central States Pension Fund to finance Argent’s purchase of several Las Vegas casinos. Balistrieri brought Kansas City and Cleveland into the deal, with Chicago joining a short time later, in order to assure that the CSPF trustees whom they controlled would vote the right way. The loan was approved. Between the initial loan of $62 million and subsequent loans, Argent received approximately $146 million in Teamster money.
The financing came with strings attached, of course. After Glick purchased the casinos, he was required to install Frank “Lefty” Rosenthal in a management position at Argent. From that post Rosenthal ran casino operations and facilitated the skim. The Stardust and Fremont were the casinos from which the thefts took place.
Carl DeLuna (Kansas City), an efficient overseer, was assigned to monitor the Vegas action and make sure each family received its fair share of the proceeds. In that role, he was one of the most trusted men in American organized crime. He also maintained regular contact with the other groups through Angelo LaPietra (Chicago) and Milton Rockman (Cleveland). To assure everything was done on the up and up, at least as far as the gangsters were concerned, DeLuna kept records—detailed written records.
The skimmed cash was removed from casino count rooms by couriers with full access to those sensitive areas. These men weren’t challenged, or even acknowledged, by other employees as they entered, made their withdrawals, and departed. The currency they took was never logged in and there was no official record of it. For all practical purposes, it was as though the money never existed. The loot was then delivered to LaPietra in Chicago. He kept a portion for the Outfit and passed the balance along to Anthony Chiavola, Sr. and Milton Rockman for delivery to their respective families.
The scheme was relatively simple and went smoothly, at least at the start. But after a while it became apparent that Allen Glick didn’t completely realize that he was only a powerless figurehead. He actually believed he could make major decisions regarding casino operations. He tried, and when he and Rosenthal clashed, Glick attempted to fire him. Lefty responded with a threat, prompting the naive tycoon to complain to Frank Balistrieri. Ba
d move.
In March 1975, Glick was summoned to Kansas City to meet with Nick Civella. There, the boss explained the facts of life to him. The two men met in a hotel room where Civella announced that Glick owed the Kansas City family $1.2 million for its assistance in getting the CSPF loan approved. If Glick didn’t know it before, he quickly became aware that the mobsters considered the pension fund to be their private bank.
Glick later recalled what Civella told him. “Cling to every word I say. ... If it would be my choice you wouldn’t leave this room alive. You owe us $1.2 million. I want that paid. In addition, we own part of your corporation and you are not to interfere with it. We will let Mr. Rosenthal continue with the casinos and you are not to interfere.”
Welcome to the real world, Mr. Glick.
The following year, Rosenthal started causing problems. His battles with Nevada gaming regulators were not only problematic, they were high-profile. The bosses had a good thing going in Vegas and wanted to stay below the radar screen. The unwanted publicity made some of the higher-ups nervous.
But as the months passed, Lefty’s difficulties and the related media coverage only intensified. The bosses held conversations to discuss whether Rosenthal should be replaced and, if so, should the removal be on a permanent basis. Although some favored that resolution, Lefty was allowed to stay on and continue his struggle with the licensing officials.
By March 1978, Allen Glick was getting on everyone’s nerves. He was particularly unpopular with Nick Civella. The Kansas City chief decided that Glick needed to go, but was willing to let him get out while still breathing. A buyout proposal in the amount of $10 million was delivered to Glick through Frank Rosenthal. Glick turned down the offer, another ill-advised decision.
The Battle for Las Vegas: The Law vs. The Mob Page 17