by John Glatt
* * *
In December 1971, after just three years of marriage, Janie Strong Novack sued Ben Novack Sr. for divorce. She had fallen in love with a highly successful insurance magnate named Tom Cundy, whom she would later marry.
“Janie and Ben were just such a weird, weird relationship,” said Richard Marx. “They were fraught.”
Lenore Toby said Janie disliked Ben’s cavalier behavior. “He was a womanizer,” said Toby. “Frankly, I think she just had a little too much class for him. She was a nice lady, and she probably just could not tolerate all that was going on.”
Years later, when asked why all three of his marriages had failed, Novack blamed the Fontainebleau. “My marriages didn’t work because I gave the hotel too much time,” he explained. “I worked seven days and seven nights a week. I was married to the Fontainebleau.”
* * *
On January 19, 1972, Ben Novack Jr. celebrated his sixteenth birthday, receiving, among other gifts, a burgundy Lincoln Continental from his father’s good friend Victor Posner. The reputed mobster, with close ties to Meyer Lansky, handed him the keys to the brand new town car at his birthday party. Other gifts included a gold dollar locket from movie star Ann-Margret and fat checks from Frank Sinatra and other members of the Rat Pack.
“They all bought Benji really nice birthday presents,” said his future wife Jill Campion. “He was friends with Sinatra, Ann-Margret, and the Rat Pack. They were like family.”
Since he was a small child, Ben Jr. had hung out backstage at La Ronde, forming close relationships with the stars who played there. He was never in the least intimidated by fame.
“He knew them all,” said Pete Matthews. “He would be nonchalant, and wasn’t in awe of them at all. He treated them like any other hotel guest. Apparently they knew his position and that his father owned the ’Blue.”
Matthews remembers Ben Jr. hitting it off with up-and-coming comedian Woody Allen. “Nobody could be on the elevator with him,” said Matthews of Allen. “He had very little communication, but I remember Benji clicking with him.”
Ben Jr. now ran all the sound equipment at the hotel, capitalizing on his audiovisual experience at school. He also worked security for all the conventions held at the Fontainebleau, making contacts with the organizers, who returned year after year. Among the contacts that would prove especially invaluable in the years to come were leaders of the Amway family, who were impressed by the teenager’s dedication and professionalism.
“He was everywhere,” said Pete Matthews. “He knew everything that was going on and just had a handle on it.”
Soon after his birthday, Ben Novack Jr. got his first driver’s license and started driving around Miami. If ever he saw a road sign down or anything he considered amiss, he immediately called the Fontainebleau switchboard, asking them to report it to the police. “He would say, ‘That sign is down,’” said Dixie Evans, “and [then he’d] give me the name of the street and the cross street, and I’d call it in.”
ELEVEN
AHMED BOOB
Soon after his divorce was finalized, Ben Novack Sr. sailed off to Morocco in his luxury yacht, staying with the movie star Omar Sharif. Legend has it that one night on Sharif’s yacht, Novack won the star’s young valet, Ahmed Boob, in a game of cards. He then brought the handsome Moroccan, in his twenties, back to Miami to be his personal assistant.
“Ben won him in a card game,” confirmed Robert Platshorn, who later became close friends with both of them. “He came to the States as Ben’s valet.”
Novack immediately put the rail-thin youth to work as his driver and right-hand man. “He was a gofer in reality,” said Richard Marx, “and there at Ben’s beck and call. He was extremely close to Ben and very loyal. He could be trusted with anything.”
The hotelier, who had fought his way up to success, was “amazed” by Boob’s streetwise intelligence, thinking him brilliant. Before long, Ahmed Boob had eclipsed his own son Ben Jr., whom Ben Sr. had never really considered as having the right stuff.
Lenore Toby, who later got to know Boob well during her time managing the Fontainebleau, believes he was the son Ben Sr. had always wanted. “Boob lived at the hotel and was a procurer of everything Ben wanted,” said Toby. “Anything.”
The young Moroccan soon became part of Ben Novack’s inner circle, and the two were never apart. “When we would have social occasions,” said Marx, “[Boob] would walk next to Ben and remind him of who the person was coming up next. The name of that individual.”
Ben Jr. was visibly jealous of his father’s new right-hand man, but there was little he could do. “I think Benji was annoyed that Boob took his place,” said Toby. “Not that Boob would ever be the heir apparent of the Fontainebleau, but Benji thought he was going to be. It must have been hard for Benji when his father brings this kid from Morocco off the street, and makes him so important.”
“Junior was just annoying people,” Richard Marx said, “He was a pain in the rear most of the time, as far as the staff at the hotel were concerned. ‘Just go away. Go away. Leave me alone.’ Very few people paid attention to Junior.”
On the other hand, Ahmed Boob, had a charismatic personality that endeared him to everyone. A few months after bringing Boob to the Fontainebleau, Ben Novack Sr. showed his appreciation by renaming the restaurant at the back of the Poodle Lounge Boob’s Steak House.
“Boob was the host when he was around,” said Platshorn. “The fixer, pimp, and procurer. A great personality. Everyone loved Boob.”
* * *
In July 1972 a convicted Mafia hit man told a congressional committee in Washington, D.C., that Frank Sinatra was the Mob’s front man at the Fontainebleau hotel. The New York Daily News carried the story with the headline “Sinatra Dodges House Crime Probe.” When Ben Novack Sr. read it, he was furious.
“This is all crap,” he screamed at New York Times reporter J. Anthony Lukas. “There are no Mafias in here. No Sinatras in here. My accountants can tell you that, my lawyers can tell you that. I built this whole thing with my blood and sweat.”
The sixty-five-year-old Miami Beach icon was giving an interview in his office at the Fontainebleau. It was on the eve of the Democratic National Convention coming to town, which he had successfully lobbied for. But he was furious that hundreds of anti-Vietnam War protestors were also expected, and demanded they be run out of town or arrested.
“What right do these punks have to come down here and turn our beautiful city into a cesspool?” he asked. “Those Yippie faggots who believe in free love, free sex, love each other, all that. Let ’em go to work. I don’t have time to take this summer off for a vacation.”
At that point in the interview the phone rang, and his secretary informed him that the president of Venezuela was on the line.
“Ah, I’m too busy!” he snapped. “You handle it!”
“But Ben, the president of—”
“What does he want? Probably a hotel room for the Democratic convention. We’ll do what we can. But tell him he can’t have any of my women—not even for a president.”
As for women, the aging owner of the Fontainebleau did not have to look any farther than the Poodle Lounge, where his protégé, Ahmed Boob, played host. The Poodle Lounge featured murals of erotic eighteenth-century paintings by the French artist Fragonard, with the faces of poodles superimposed on the women. Every evening the lounge was packed with ladies of the night.
“We would call them food-and-beverage hookers,” recalled Lenore Toby. “They would just find someone and make a date with them, so they would take them out for dinner and drinks. And maybe a favor or two later.”
The Miami Beach Vice Squad would also be in the Poodle Lounge, but officers always turned a blind eye to the goings-on there.
Ben Novack Jr. was well acquainted with the girls of the Poodle Lounge, having known many of them since he was a child. It is quite possible that he lost his virginity to one of them at a young age.
“I’m ce
rtain he had his first intro to the sordid type of life there,” said Toby. “Right at the hotel.”
* * *
In the summer of 1972, Ben Novack Jr. became close friends with a Miami Beach police officer named Charlie Seraydar, who had worked off-duty details at the Fontainebleau. The young cop was a favorite of the hotel’s security chief, Ronnie Mitervini, who regularly called him in.
“Benji was a young lad at the time,” said Seraydar, “and we became very friendly. He wanted to ride in the police car, so I allowed him to ride with me. He loved the excitement of doing police things.”
On late night patrols around Miami Beach, Officer Seraydar got to know the teenager well, and the two bonded. “Benji was just an obnoxious, nice kid,” Seraydar recalled. “Growing up in the environment he did, he was very much self-centered and a loner. But he had a good heart and would do anything for anybody.”
* * *
After leaving the Fontainebleau, Bernice Novack was now living a quieter life. She had settled down with her teenage son by the Coral Ridge golf course, in an exclusive area of Fort Lauderdale. It was worlds away from her days as mistress of the Fontainebleau.
“She wanted to live in a house with a picket fence like everybody had,” said Estelle Fernandez. “But Ben Sr. didn’t like that lifestyle, and he had been in charge. Now everything had changed.”
Now fifty years old, Bernice was still stunningly beautiful. (She was still dating musician George Rodriguez, who had his own room in her new house.) Upon her ex-husband’s recommendation, she had had the first of three facelifts she would undergo over the next few years. Her old Fontainebleau hairdresser, Emmanuel Buccola, still looked after her striking red hair, and was now a close friend and confidant. But without the demands of the Fontainebleau’s rigorous social life, Bernice now dressed down, favoring smart shirts and slacks.
Also, she had found herself drawn to the spiritual life, joining the Science of Mind Church in Fort Lauderdale, and volunteering for church work. The Science of Mind Church dated back to the Institute of Religious Science, which was founded by Dr. Ernest Holmes in 1927 in Southern California. Dr. Holmes had developed a philosophy for “positive thinking” using his own tools to find spiritual insight and peace of mind. In the 1960s his teachings were brought to Florida by Ministers Drs. Norman and Dorothy Lunde.
“This church has been established to provide a place where questing people may gather,” the church’s mission statement read, “to pursue freely the search for Spiritual Truth. It is our conviction that man’s capacity to grow and unfold in spiritual consciousness is unlimited.”
“Bernice was still living at the Fontainebleau and married when she first met my parents,” recalled Dr. Barbara Lunde, who now runs the church. “My parents were invited to go over there all the time. It was the big place.”
After moving to Fort Lauderdale, Bernice became an active member of the Science of Mind church on N.E. Twenty-Sixth Street, regularly attending weekly services. She also arranged social fund-raisers, such as fashion shows and lunches.
On Saturday, February 24, 1973, she organized the church’s annual fashion show luncheon. “Bernice Novack, chairman of this event,” read the February edition of the church magazine, “tells us that featured this year will be the beautiful clothes from Frances Brewster Resort Fashions on North Ocean Boulevard.”
One of her assistants for the event was Jeanne Cummings, a Fort Lauderdale real estate agent who had found Bernice her new house. Cummings still fondly remembers Ben Jr., who was with his mother when Cummings drove her around. He’d show off by running to the garage of every prospective home they looked at and tripping the lock.
TWELVE
OFFICER BENJI NOVACK
In January 1973, Ben Novack Jr. turned seventeen and officially joined the Fort Lauderdale Police Department Youth Auxiliary. Six months later, he graduated from Pine Crest School with school service awards in audio/visual, technical, and journalism. He then enrolled at the University of Miami, for a major in mass communications and a minor in marketing. But his main interest in life was law enforcement.
On February 8, 1974, a few weeks after his eighteenth birthday, he applied to join the Miami Beach Police Department as an auxiliary police officer. He listed his special qualifications as having a good knowledge of radio and television equipment and being a member of his college Honor Society.
He had now moved out of his mother’s house and was living in an apartment in the Fontainebleau.
In September 1974 he was accepted to the Southeast Florida Institute of Criminal Justice, to train to be an auxiliary officer. Over the next three months, he underwent the exact same 160 hours of intensive training as the regular cadets, and studied various aspects of law enforcement, including the legal system, prosecution, defense, and sentencing.
On December 17, Ben Novack Jr. officially graduated from the academy, becoming a bona fide member of the Miami Beach Police Department. At a special ceremony he received a certificate showing that he had successfully completed the necessary training to join the department.
“So Benji went to the police academy and got certified,” said Officer Pete Matthews. “He was an auxiliary or reserve officer. They had uniforms. They had guns. They had everything, including arrest powers.”
As an auxiliary officer, Ben Novack Jr. was expected to serve two ten-hour shifts a month, riding details with fully qualified Miami Beach police officers. Pete Matthews now became his regular patrol partner.
“Very few people wanted to team up with Benji,” Matthews explained, “because he was just high maintenance. But I liked the kid and he was always obliging.”
Officer Matthews often took the new reserve out on his midnight shifts, but soon realized that the hyperactive teenager’s unbridled enthusiasm could present problems. “He would get pumped up and excited,” said Matthews, “and kind of shoot from the hip. I remember one time I said, ‘Benji, you’re going to have to tame it down.’”
The enthusiastic young reserve now proudly wore a Miami Beach Police Department uniform and carried a concealed gun in a shoulder holster. He wasn’t above breaking the law himself, though. He loved driving fast, and a year earlier his new red Thunderbird had hit an ambulance in Miami. He was later charged with careless driving, but ultimately found not guilty.
“Ambulance ran red light w/out using caution,” he wrote in a report. “I was charged but found not guilty.”
Pete Matthews was now anxious whenever the young reserve got behind the wheel of his black-and-white squad car. “Now I’m not overreactionary,” Matthews explained. “I don’t get excited. I just kind of slow the pace down, but Benji was the opposite. He would drive too fast on these calls and I would say, ‘Oh my God! Put the safety belt on.’”
Early one morning, the two officers were heading out of Miami Beach, responding to a fatal accident on the MacArthur Causeway, when the reserve hit the accelerator hard.
“I said, ‘Benji, slow down for God’s sake, we’re doing one hundred miles an hour,’” recalled Matthews. “And then he put the siren and blue lights on. I mean it was four A.M. and there was nobody there and Benji’s driving like an idiot.”
Suddenly, as they approached the accident site, Novack slammed on the brakes, sending his partner, who wasn’t wearing a seat belt, straight into the dashboard. Then he accidentally put the squad car into reverse instead of park, and after they both jumped out, “the patrol car started going backward,” said Matthews. “And I said, ‘Benji, look at the car!’ I wouldn’t run after it. I didn’t give a shit, but Benji chased after the car and jumped in, slamming it into park. But that was Benji.”
* * *
In September 1974, Lenore Toby was hired to manage the Fontainebleau. Born in Boston, the ambitious career woman had been running the rival Eden Roc (for the last six years) when it had temporarily closed. A vice president at the Fontainebleau had then hired her.
When Ben Novack Sr. found out, he was livid. “What are you c
razy, bringing a woman in?” he screamed. Nevertheless, Novack finally relented, appointing Toby manager of his 1,250-room, five-star hotel.
“He was a genius,” Toby recalled, “but he would call everyone a reprobate. His favorite expression was ‘He’s nothing but a reprobate.’”
Toby says her new boss was the most amazing person she had ever met, with a unique style of his own. “Ben Novack was interested in fashion,” she said. “He used to wear these pink cashmere jackets with plaid pants. He always had his hair puffed up and combed.”
Each morning, his beloved elder sister Lillian Brezner arrived at the hotel to spend the day, although no one was quite sure exactly what she did. “She was dowdy, horrible,” said Toby. “I never knew where she lived or where she came from.”
One morning soon after Toby arrived, Ben Novack Jr. stormed into her office ordering her never to call him Benji again, as he hated it. So she asked what he wanted to be called.
“Ben,” he told her emphatically. “Not Ben Junior. Just Ben.”
Although he was still studying at the University of Miami, his father had promoted him to a Fontainebleau vice president, with a $15,000-a-year salary, a company car, and an apartment. He even had his own personal assistant, who worked in sales.
Now six foot, three inches tall, Ben Jr. had grown a full beard, to appear older and be taken more seriously.
“He was very immature for his years,” said Toby. “He was all over the place, but he really envisioned himself as the chief of security.”
Benji now patrolled the hotel corridors with a huge chain of keys and a chattering police radio hanging around his neck. “It was a joke,” Toby said. “He was still playing policeman. You’d think at his age he would have moved on to something else. Everybody laughed at him, they really did. He was an annoyance to people who would just tolerate him, because you never knew how daddy was going to react.”