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Viewpoint of Las Vegas
Welcome to Las Vegas
Frontier Justice Style -- Part 2 of 3
By: Frank Rosenthal
Welcome To Las Vegas-Frontier Justice Style
Round 2 of 3. I was overmatched, framed and unprepared! The sheriff was the
king of Las Vegas and controlled with an iron fist. He was forceful and
generally inflexible if you were on his hit list. Unfortunately, I be- came
one of his prime targets. His chief of detectives was dangerous,
unpredictable and a tough son of a gun. Here is the way it happened in round
two...
Back at the Tropicana Hotel, all freshened up, cooled down, and wondering
what's my next move. Figured I'd head over to Caesar's Palace right after
sunset for a visit and some sound advice from the top brass.
I'm in the Galleria Lounge relaxing with my friends and associates whom I
have known for many years. There was no need to review my first encounter
with the heat. Everyone knew how it happened, and why. The real question was
whether the sheriff and his gang intended to force me back east the hard
way! Didn't take very long to find out. While we were talking, I noticed the
chief of detectives and his bloodhounds entering the casino. I'm sitting
with the Creme De La Creme of the Palace. The chairman of the board and
several senior casino executives including Dean Shendal, better known as the
"Cowboy." Dean resembled the Marlboro Man. Rugged, Hollywood handsome, great
personality and known to have a short fuse. He loved steer wrestling, calf
roping and the total aura of a modern day rodeo cowboy. If Dean had an
Achilles heel it had to be skirts. This cowboy loved great looking chicks,
and he had the right combination to match his appetite. Good looks and a
king size bankroll. He spent quite a bit of time in Beverly Hills romancing
his favorite flavor of the month with luxury throughout famous Rodeo Drive
and their exclusive boutiques. If a gal was lucky enough to get hooked up
with Dean she had herself a first class ticket to shopper's wonderland and
then some. Dean was a master chemist, he could destroy money faster than a
paper shredder. In addition to that, he was a very close personal friend
with the king of Las Vegas, sheriff Ralph Lamb.
The chief began eyeballing our table with an expression of indecision. As
the chief approached the rail of the Galleria a sudden silence filled the
air. His eyes focused my way like a laser beam. The chief broke the silence
with a subtle display of personal charm. "Hello Jerry." Jerry Z was the top
gun at the Palace, a solid operator, a great sports handicappers, brilliant
and very influential throughout the gaming industry. We'd been friends for
better than 15 years. Another top level executive was Elliot (Jumbo) Price,
a popular casino boss from Boston whom I had been associated with for many
years. Matter of fact, Elliot was the best man at my wedding, held in
Caesar's Palace grand ballroom compliments of Caesar, and his Palace… Then
there was Danny (Noisy) Stein, Caesar's casino manager who knew quite a bit
about women and marriage. Noisy went through nine wives and as of this date
he's moved into record territory.
The chief was relatively friendly, at least for a few moments. Suddenly the
chief asked me what I was doing at Caesar's. "Just visiting with our good
friends Chief." "You must have a short memory or a hard head." I took the
fifth and remained silent to no avail. "You're under arrest for vagrancy,
get up and walk down slowly in front of me." Jerry Z stood up, red faced and
fuming. "For what, he hasn't done a damn thing, why don't you just leave him
be and get off his back?" The chief replied softly and surprisingly
apologetically. "Sorry Jerry, I have my orders, we're taking him downtown."
Then the Cowboy decided to lend a helping hand. "Hey Gene, Frank is an
okay guy and a good friend of mine, I'll take full responsibility for him,
he's our guest and not about to cause any problems." The chief looked up at
Dean and trapped himself. "You ought to mind your own business Dean." Dean
didn't hesitate for a moment and extended the chief an open invitation, not
to his ranch, nor for dinner.
The cowboy challenged the chief to step outside the casino into the parking
lot if he would put aside his badge and pistol. Dean was embarrassed and
lost his cool. What a natural match, a double tough cowboy and a deranged
cop who hadn't been known to back away from anyone. The chief turned real
red, and seemed to be stunned and unsure about his next move. Dean was
leaning forward in an upright position and looked dead eye serious. The two
detectives were visibly startled. Sunrise Hospital was just a few minutes
away, and that's were the chief could have landed had he foolishly accepted
the challenge. He knew it was a no win situation and decided to ignore the
cowboy and concentrate on me. Jerry Z eased Dean back and signaled me to
simply surrender, and the chief's not a 21 dealer. "I'll have a bondsman
waiting, try to relax, you'll be okay. Call me when you're back at the
Trop."
One more trip downtown to the county slammer. Same routine, strip searched,
photographed, finger printed and placed inside a holding cell with a bunch
of winos and weirdos. I wasn't expecting any more physical abuse the second
time around. Thirty minutes or so later I'm picking up my personal
belongings and ready to catch a breathe of clean fresh air. The chief was
relentless and didn't miss the opportunity to wish me farewell as I was
leaving. "You're going to need lots of luck if you decide to hang around
this town much longer." I headed straight back to the Trop. There were 2
messages. Call Caesar's, the other one came from that great looking flight
attendant. I called Caesar, "pack up quickly and head out to the airport."
"Catch the first flight out of here, don't even check in at the counter,
just head straight to closest departing runway." "The cowboy is going to see
the sheriff in the morning." "Be careful, keep your eyes open and don't stop
until your inside the terminal." "Good luck kid." The message was clear and
I caught a lift straight out to the airport without incident. I began
reflecting upon the events of the past 24 hours. The sheriff clearly didn't
want me in "his" town, and was prepared to use his muscle in order to keep
me away. I didn't know exactly why. I guess you might say I was somewhat
lucky just being alive. If not for the cowboy and Jerry Z- I could have
wound up on the wrong side of a safari. Back home safe and sound I'm
anxiously awaiting the results of the meeting between Dean and the sheriff.
Almost forgot to mention, I was engaged to be married, and my fiancee lived
in Sin City. I'm an (86) with little margin for error. How does a fellow
become exiled without a hearing? It could only happen in Welcome To Las
Vegas, Frontier Justice Style. See you next month for the bell-round, stay
tuned and good luck.
…Stay tuned.
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Frank Rosenthal
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