by Kitty Kelley
The board missed an opportunity to follow up Sinatra’s denials that he ever received any illegal moneys because it did not have access to the August 3, 1962, memo prepared by the Justice Department, which raised a number of questions about Sinatra’s relationship to the Fontainebleau Hotel. Allegations had been made by Ben Novak, owner of the Fontainebleau Hotel managing company, as well as others interviewed by the FBI, that Sinatra refused payments for his appearances at the Fontainebleau and received expensive gifts of jewelry instead. Novak told FBI agents that he had given Sinatra a $4,000 ring as a “token of his appreciation.” Joe Fischetti told FBI agents that he purchased “diamonds and large pieces of jewelry” for Sinatra.
Based on these allegations, the Justice Department memo speculated: “It seems incredible that Sinatra would perform without charge for a commercial enterprise such as the Fontainebleau Hotel. And the above allegations give rise to a number of questions: Did Sinatra report the $4,000 ring on his federal income tax returns? What were the other gifts to Sinatra from ‘time to time’? Did Sinatra report these on his federal income tax returns? Was there an agreement to compensate Sinatra for his services in ‘gifts’ to avoid the payment of federal income taxes? Does Joe Fischetti collect on his alleged ‘piece’ of Sinatra as a ‘talent agent’ for the Fontainebleau? Does Sinatra have a covert ‘cash deal’ arrangement with the Fontainebleau and does Joe Fischetti handle it? Does Fischetti get some of this income into Sinatra’s hands by purchasing items such as diamonds and large pieces of jewelry for him?”
The report went on to question as to whether Sinatra had an “undisclosed interest” in the Fontainebleau Hotel. “If the total value of the ‘gifts’ received by Sinatra from Novak cannot be considered as reasonable compensation for his services at the Fontainebleau, does he increase his undisclosed capital investment in the hotel by performing there ‘without charge’? Assuming that Sinatra actually performs at the Fontainebleau without charge and only for friendship, who are his friends in the hotel and why is he so generous with them?”
Despite the wiretap conversation of Tommy Marson saying that tickets were held back every night for Sinatra, Frank now denied ever receiving any complimentary tickets at the Westchester Premier Theater.
“I never had any tickets given to me, never,” he said. Mickey Rudin corrected him. “Frank, not given you directly but given to us.”
Sinatra refused to concede the point. “Not to me. I never had any tickets. That is what I wanted to have straight,”
The questioning continued: Mr. Pacella on trial was asked by the assistant United States attorney, and I quote: “By way of background, do you know any individual by the name of Frank Sinatra?” Mr. Pacella invoked his Fifth Amendment rights at that question, and Mr. Pacella was subsequently granted immunity and notified his answer could not be used against him. But yet, he still stood on his Fifth Amendment privilege not to discuss that one particular question. He was asked the question by both the forelady of the grand jury and the U.S. District Court judge and still refused to answer, and because of that refusal to answer, was incarcerated. Do you have any knowledge, Mr. Rudin and Mr. Sinatra, why Mr. Pacella would take that position and refuse to answer that question?
Frank did not respond, and Mickey Rudin said that he did not know Mr. Pacella well enough to answer for him. The chairman then moved on to the chummy photograph of Frank. Carlo Gambino, and the other chieftains of Cosa Nostra.
Snapping with impatience, Frank said, “I was asked by one of the members of the theater—who he was doesn’t come to me; I don’t think it is that important—he told me Mr. Gambino had arrived with his granddaughter, whose name happened to be Sinatra, a doctor in New York, not related at all, and they’d like to take a picture. I said, ‘Fine.’ They came in and they took a picture of the little girl, and before I realized what happened, there were approximately eight or nine men standing around me and several other snapshots were made. That is the whole incident that took place.”
Q: Did you have any information about any of the people that were in that photograph with you? Did you know any of them by sight?
A: Well, Mr. Marson, I think, was in the picture, whom I knew. He was one of the owners of the club, and I knew him. I later found out that I was introduced to somebody named Jimmy, and I found out later it was this fink, The Weasel.
Q: Subsequently, did you have an opportunity after this picture received some degree of notoriety to learn the background of some of those people?
A: No.
Q: When you were there?
A: No.
Q: As of today, you do not know what some of the background is?
A: I didn’t even know their names, let alone their backgrounds. I didn’t even know most of their names.
When Jimmy Fratianno, who had been accepted as “a very credible witness” in courtrooms across the country, heard Sinatra’s account of the picture-taking session, he laughed.
“He said he was gonna take a picture with somebody’s niece and he says all of a sudden eight men were around him. Well that’s a lot of baloney. He wanted to take a picture with Gambino and he offered Gambino to come in the back, he wanted to meet him. And he goes to the Gaming Board and he just lied about these things. He said he didn’t know who was there. He knows me, he knows Gambino, Tommy Marson, Paul Castellano. He [Frank] knows who they are. He knows just as much about this as I do.… He likes ‘made’ guys. He likes to be around them. He likes to have pictures taken with them. Look at all the publicity: Giancana, Lucky Luciano, the Fischettis, Gambino, myself! He thrives on the stuff, I’m telling you. Of course, he ain’t gonna tell that to the President. I don’t know how he covers that up.”
Pearl Similly, a former politician from Staten Island, was not surprised to see the photograph of Frank standing near Paul Castellano and with his arm around Carlo Gambino. Castellano later succeeded Gambino as chief of the nation’s most powerful Mafia family, and he and his top aide, Thomas Bilotti, ran the crime organization until they were gunned down gangland style outside a New York steak house.
“Tommy’s brother, Jimmy Bilotti, told me he worked for Frank Sinatra for several years [70s and 80s],” said Pearl Similly. “Jimmy was a big gambler and the Bilottis and the Castellanos were very close with Sinatra, so I think Sinatra was doing them a favor to try to keep Jimmy a little busy so he wouldn’t gamble so much. Jimmy told me that he traveled with Sinatra and made all his arrangements and when they went out to dinner he’d call and make the reservations at the restaurant. He was like a gofer, I guess. Jimmy didn’t like Sinatra very much, but he thought Barbara was great.”
Although known to “everybody in Staten Island,” this connection of Frank Sinatra’s was not known to the Nevada Gaming Control Board.
Frank tried to dismiss the Mafia photograph as one of millions taken backstage, by producing pictures of himself with a congressman, with the prime minister of Israel, with Gregory Peck, with the president of Egypt, with members of the San Francisco police department. “This represents a one thousandth maybe, a minimum amount of photographs that I have taken with people who come backstage,” he said. The Nevada gaming chairman said he felt it was a sad commentary on our times that the decent people in Frank’s photographs weren’t as newsworthy as the disreputable ones, the “who’s who of what’s what … in organized crime.”
Q: Again coming back to Mr. Fratianno, Mr. Sinatra, he alleges that in 1976 an associate of yours, Mr. Rizzo, contacted him about “breaking the legs of a former bodyguard” who was giving you problems. The man’s name was Andrew Celentano, and I would just ask you for the record. Did you know Mr. Andrew Celentano?
A: For the record, I did not know this man of whom you speak, and also for the record, I wish that we didn’t have to discuss Mr. Fratianno, because he is a confessed murderer, a perjurer, and I would rather not discuss him involved with my life. That is a fair enough request.
Q: Yes. Unfortunately, I can appreciate what you are saying. It is in
the public record.… We are not suggesting that unsubstantiated allegations of Mr. Fratianno will go unchallenged here. But we do think it is necessary to put it on the record.
A: Well, it is now on the record. I never asked anybody to do anything like that, that kind of thing.
One of the board’s agents stepped forward to say that he had developed information that Celentano had worked as a security officer at the Fontainebleau Hotel in Florida from 1968 to 1970 and while there was hired by Sinatra to be his personal security guard. He also worked on two movies with Frank in Florida, Tony Rome and The Lady in Cement. During those three years, Celentano accompanied Frank on an entertainment tour. His widow, Evelyn Celentano, said that her husband considered himself a friend of Frank and had sent him sixty long-stemmed roses on his sixtieth birthday in 1975, but that he had contributed to a series of articles on Sinatra in the National Enquirer that had been uncomplimentary. Despite all this, Frank maintained that he did not know Andy Celentano.
The chairman of the Nevada Gaming Board then turned to what he called Frank’s “isolated incidents” of violence, his fights with Carl Cohen in 1967, Sanford Waterman in 1970, and Frank Weinstock in 1973. The chairman said nothing of Sinatra’s 1966 fight with Frederick Weisman in the Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills Hotel, which put Weisman in the hospital in critical condition. Frank dodged blame for any of the fights, so the chairman moved smoothly on to the subject of Australia, which Frank clearly evaded.
Q: Mr. Sinatra, would you explain to us what happened in Australia in 1974?
A: I don’t remember.
Q: Were you in Australia in 1974?
A: I was there, but I don’t remember what happened.
Q: You don’t remember what happened?
A: No, I don’t remember.
Q: At all?
A: Not at all.
Q: Or is it you just don’t want to put it on the record?
A: No, it is just not a matter of putting anything on the record. I don’t remember what happened. Some big uproar came out of Australia, and we became the scapegoat again … Mr. Rudin might be able to tell you some more about it.…
At Frank’s bidding, Rudin jumped in to condemn the Australian press, whom Frank had called hookers and pimps, causing unions to go on strike in protest. Rudin said he was told that the strike would be called off once Sinatra apologized, but Rudin had refused to be conciliatory. “There will be no apologies. If you want to find a method of solving this situation, some kind of a joint meeting and statement, we will do it.”
At the hearing, Frank denied having had all the trouble that was reported in the press. “We were never frozen out of food at the hotel and so on and so forth,” he said. “It was blown up way out of proportion.”
Q: You do remember it better now then?
A: No, not all of it. I really don’t want to remember it.
Q: Mr. Sinatra, it would appear to me, given an opportunity to explain some of these things, you might take this as an opportunity.
A: I appreciate what you are saying to me, Mr. Bunker, but these things are age-old.
Q: But I do think if there is an explanation for some of these things, that this certainly is the appropriate time to make it.
A: Mr. Rudin made all the explanation that I can remember anyway.
“That’s fine,” said the chairman, accepting Frank’s petulant response as the final explanation of his behavior. Moving on to the next question, he asked Frank about his $46,500 marker from Harrah’s in Lake Tahoe which had been on the casino’s books since 1978 and had never been collected. Frank said he didn’t remember anything about it, so Mickey Rudin explained that it had been written off by Harrah’s in 1980, and that he was still waiting for the necessary tax forms from them. Harrah’s acknowledged it was their mistake. The board accepted the explanation.
The next question concerned an uncollected marker at Caesars Palace that had only recently been repaid. Rudin answered. “There again some dust fell through the cracks, and again, not my fault, and Mr. Wald runs generally a tight ship.… That’s been straightened out.”
Frank was asked about his close friendship with Eugene Cimorelli, an associate of the Chicago Mafia boss, Tony Spilotro, and a golfing partner of Tony “Big Tuna” Accardo at the Indian Wells Country Club near Palm Springs. Observers had expected the chairman to question Sinatra about whether he had exerted pressure on Caesars Palace to get Cimorelli a job as a casino host, but that line of questioning was never pursued. Instead, he asked Frank whether he had appeared on a local television show as a favor to Cimorelli. Frank said that it was possible.
Q: Are you acquainted with a man by the name of Matthew Ianello?
A: I don’t think so. What is his alias?
Q: His alias is Matty the Horse.
A: No.
Q: Mr. Rudin, do you know Mr. Ianello?
A: Yes, I do.
It was not surprising that Frank was so vague testifying about his Mafia friendships considering that he had told Pete Hamill a few years before when they had discussed a possible collaboration on Sinatra’s autobiography that he would never discuss his involvement with the mob. “Some things I can’t ever talk about,” he said. “Someone might come knockin’ at my fucking door.”
Continuing the questioning, Chairman Bunker asked Frank about his relationship to the Kennedys.
“Mr. Sinatra, it is well known that you were, I guess it would be correct to say, a friend of both the late John Kennedy and Robert Kennedy,” he said. “And our question would be: Did you at any time ever attempt to intercede on behalf of Mr. Giancana with either one of those gentlemen?”
Despite wiretap evidence indicating that Frank had interceded with the Kennedys for the Mafia boss, he denied ever doing it.
“Negative,” he said.
“Never at all?” asked the chairman.
“Never.”
Robert Kennedy’s appointment book as attorney general showing the date Peter Lawford came to see him at the Justice Department to plead Frank’s case for Giancana was not available to the Nevada Gaming Control Board. Nor did they know of Lawford’s intercession on Sinatra’s behalf.
FBI wiretaps record Johnny Roselli telling Giancana that Frank had told him he had written Sam’s name on a piece of paper and shown it to Bobby Kennedy, saying: “This is my buddy. This is my buddy. This is what I want you to know, Bob.” But the Nevada Gaming Control Board did not have access to FBI wiretaps.
When Frank was asked by Bunker how he had first met Sam Giancana, Frank said he didn’t remember.
“At Cal-Neva, were you ever in his presence at Cal-Neva?” asked one of the commissioners.
Frank denied that he ever was.
“There is an allegation that you were in Hawaii … Mr. Giancana was there at that particular time and you were together. Did you have a meeting over there?”
Frank said he couldn’t remember, although he and his Mafia pal Giancana had made an indelible impression on the female flight attendants en route to Hawaii. The FBI agents following Giancana later told reporters that the flight attendants had complained bitterly about the harassment they had been subjected to by the two men.
Phyllis McGuire also recalled the trip to Hawaii because Sam was supposed to be with her in Belle Vernon, Pennsylvania, for her opening at the Twin Coaches. “Sam called me to say that he and ‘The Canary,’ his code name for Frank, were going to Hawaii,” she said. “That night, Frank called me three times trying to get Sam out of the doghouse, but I refused to take any of his calls. They were gone for about a week on that trip.”
Sinatra’s hearing lasted five and one-half hours. One of the commissioners proposed that a gaming license be limited to six months to see just how deserving Frank really was. “He has indicated and his attorneys have advised us Mr. Sinatra is a changed man from seventeen years ago,” said the commissioner. “Well, as I sit here today, there were a couple times that I hope[d] that Mr. Sinatra has changed some.”
Chairma
n Bunker closed the proceeding. “I have reached the point in my life that I don’t really care what anybody outside the state of Nevada thinks about gaming, the national media or anybody else. We have an economy here that is based on something that is illegal in every other jurisdiction but New Jersey, and people coming into this area, whether they be FBI, whether they be whoever they are, might come in here with different ideas than what some of us think that have lived here all of our lives.”
Bunker moved that Frank be recommended to the Nevada Gaming Commission for license approval for six months on a limited basis; the three commissioners approved unanimously; Frank walked out of the room to thunderous applause.
That night, Johnny Carson, in his monologue on The Tonight Show, said, “I just got word that Gregory Peck was nominated for an Oscar for his performance at the Frank Sinatra hearing.”
Next, Frank faced the five-member Gaming Control Commission, which had the final say in all licensing matters. That hearing, on February 19, 1981, lasted one hour and forty-five minutes. Again, Frank denied ever associating with members of organized crime. Rudin backed him up when asked whether he had any knowledge of Sinatra’s association with people who might be considered unsuitable by Nevada gaming authorities.
“Absolutely not,” said Mickey Rudin. Over the years many syndicate men had been Frank Sinatra’s houseguests in Palm Springs. Men like Mickey Cohen, Sam Giancana, Joe Fischetti, Johnny Roselli, Johnny Formosa, Skinny D’Amato—and Doc Stacher, whom friends remember playing gin rummy at Frank’s house for hours at a stretch.