Cullotta: The Life of a Chicago Criminal, Las Vegas Mobster and Government Witness (20 page)

That lack of confidence in Metro kept the two agencies from having an institutional association at the time. But starting in 1979, the Department of Justice lawyers and the FBI began to develop several relationships with Metro personnel on a personal level. It wasn’t long before the Las Vegas agents and Metro detectives began to share information and cooperate in their investigations.

In November 1978, a reform candidate for Clark County Sheriff, John McCarthy, was elected. During his campaign he promised to clean up corruption within the department and declare war on organized crime; he vowed that if elected, Tony Spilotro and his gang would either go to jail or be run out of town. McCarthy, who had commanded Metro’s vice, narcotics, and juvenile bureaus prior to being elected, began to fulfill those promises even before he took office in January 1979. His first step in that regard was to appoint veteran detective Kent Clifford to take over the Intelligence Bureau. Clifford’s assignment included making sure his detectives were free of mob connections and developing a strategy to combat Tony Spilotro.

Clifford was a decorated Vietnam combat veteran and had worked in the vice and narcotics units of the Las Vegas Police Department and Metro. He acted with the urgency McCarthy demanded. Within a few weeks of assuming the new position, Clifford announced that the Intelligence Bureau was clean, ready to resume normal relationships with other law-enforcement agencies.

Clifford’s next priority was to develop a plan to confront Tony Spilotro and his men. Although his prior duties hadn’t involved Spilotro, Clifford was well aware of the gangster’s presence and reputation. He wasn’t impressed, however, and never held Tony in very high esteem. In one newspaper interview he said: “Tony Spilotro was a cold- blooded killer. You could see it when you looked into his eyes. He was capable of being extremely vicious and violent.” And then he added: “He was just a soldier, a punk. That’s all he ever was.”

Clifford put an aggressive strategy in place to go after Tony, attacking both overtly and covertly. Five officers were assigned fulltime to the Spilotro investigation and could be supplemented by additional personnel as needed. They kept pressure on Tony and his associates by implementing round-the-clock surveillance, often making no effort at concealment. The targets knew the cops were there, watching their every move, even following them into restaurants and taking seats at adjoining tables.

In addition, the tailing cops were told to aggressively enforce traffic laws. When a subject was pulled over for a motor-vehicle violation, he was arrested and had his car towed. This tactic disrupted their activities, costing them time and money and causing annoyance. It also allowed the cops to get positive identifications on the players and possibly pick up some good information.

Although this strategy invited allegations of police harassment, Clifford believed it was necessary and appropriate. He explained his reasoning this way. “We were up against people who weren’t required to play by any rules; we were. Everything we did was legal, but sometimes we went right up to the edge. The goal was to put Tony in prison or drive him out of town. Also, there was a possibility that by keeping the media’s attention focused on him, along with his own huge ego, his bosses in Chicago might eventually get fed up with him.”

So, as Tony and Frank pillaged and plundered, the law was ready to launch an all-out effort against them.

Jerry Lisner was arrested by the FBI on July 11, 1979, and charged with interstate transportation of stolen property, aiding and abetting, grand larceny, and conspiracy. Free on $75,000 bail, he was scheduled to go on trial October 29 in U.S. District Court in Washington, D.C.

In the late summer of that year, Lisner came back into Frank’s life. His reemergence posed potential problems for Frank and Tony, but the repercussions were much worse for Lisner himself.

It started when Frank got a call from a friend who owned a restaurant in town; he said they needed to meet. The friend brought another man along with him, a lawyer. “Do you know a guy named Jerry Lisner?” the lawyer asked Frank.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Lisner’s in trouble with the feds and he’s playing ball to get himself a deal. He’s been in front of a grand jury in Washington and he’s been cooperating with them. I found out that he’s mentioned you and Tony Spilotro. I don’t know you or this Tony guy, but I thought you ought to know.”

Frank thanked the informant, then got hold of Tony. “I don’t like it, Frankie,” Tony said. “If this shit is true, it looks like they’re trying to indict one or both of us.”

“What do you want to do?”

After a brief hesitation, Tony said, “For right now, nothing. I want to check into this thing myself and I’ll get back to you.” A few days later, Frank heard from Tony. He’d confirmed what the lawyer had said, plus a little more. “Listen to me,” Tony said. “This fucking Lisner is cooperating with the grand jury in Washington. He’s giving testimony about you and your affiliation with me. And he’s talking about that deal in Washington [the money-laundering scam] you tried to pull. Subpoenas are going to be issued.” Tony’s information couldn’t have been more solid. The very next day the FBI served Frank with a subpoena to appear before the grand jury in Washington. After the feds left, Frank called Tony. “What should I do, Tony? Should I make up a bullshit story? Should I take the Fifth [exercise his right against self-incrimination] and force them to offer me immunity?”

“Get a lawyer out of D.C. and make up a story.” Then he added ominously, “We’ll deal with Lisner later.”

Frank went to Washington and retained a lawyer. After discussing his testimony with the lawyer, Frank was interviewed by a United States Attorney and some FBI agents. They gave him a grilling, but he stuck to his made-up story. He testified the same way when he went before the grand jury.

When Frank got back to Vegas, he told Larry Neumann what was going on. “Let’s kill the fucker right now,” Lurch said.

“We can’t just go around whacking people without permission. I’ve got to find out what Tony wants to do first. And if he wants Lisner hit, he’ll have to clear it with Chicago. While we’re waiting, try to get close to Lisner’s wife at the Aladdin. See what you can learn from her. If we want to feed any bullshit to Jerry, we’ll do it through her.”

Neumann did as instructed and became buddies with the Lisners, but he didn’t like them. He told Frank that when it was time to hit Lisner, he wanted to do the job. “I want to kill both of them, though. He’s got it coming and she’s a no-good fucking bitch. She’s got to go too.”

Tony finally made up his mind about Lisner and when he did, he was emphatic. He told Frank, “I want him fucking whacked. And if
you
don’t do it,
I
will.”

“Take it easy, Tony. I’ll handle it.”

“I just want to make sure you understand that I want that cocksucker taken care of. I got the okay from Chicago and it’s gotta be done.”

“It’ll be done. Should I take Larry with me?”

“No, leave him out of it. Have Wayne [Matecki] come in from Chicago.” Whatever reason Tony had for rejecting Neumann’s participation, it probably saved Jeannie Lisner’s life.

“Okay. I’ll contact Wayne. Anything else?”

“Yeah, get hold of Lisner. Meet him for a few drinks or something, so he gets comfortable with you being around him.”

Frank contacted Lisner and invited him and his wife to meet him at the My Place Lounge. They had a good time, laughing and joking. Tony Spilotro stopped by, making the couple even more at ease. Tony turned on the charm and by the time the Lisners left, they seemed to be feeling pretty secure. The plan could now advance to the next stage.

Frank drove to Los Angeles and flew from the Burbank airport to Chicago. He made contact with Matecki and briefed him on the plan to murder Lisner. Matecki packed his bag and the two caught a plane back to Burbank, then drove to Vegas. Frank already had a work car stashed in the underground parking garage of his condo. The two killers assembled the rest of the necessary equipment: a .22 pistol, a police radio, and walkie-talkies. Everything was ready.

On October 10, 1979, Frank called Lisner. “Jerry, I need to discuss something with you, but I don’t want to do it on the phone. Can we get together tonight?”

“Sure. Why don’t you stop by my house and we’ll talk.”

“Good. This is private, though, so —”

Lisner cut Frank off. “Jeannie has to work. I’ll be alone, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Thanks, Jerry. I’ll be over.”

After dark Frank and Matecki put their radios and walkie-talkies in the work car and headed for the Lisner house at 2303 Rawhide Avenue. Frank concealed the murder weapon in his waistband. When they arrived, Frank told Matecki to wait in the car while he went to the door and rang the bell. Lisner responded and let him in. They stood in the hallway for a few seconds making small talk. Then Frank used a ruse to get Lisner away from the door. “What was that?” Frank said suddenly.

“What was what?”

“I heard a noise.” Frank pointed down the hallway. “I thought you were alone.”

“Nobody’s here but me. Come on, let’s take a look.”

Frank followed his victim into the living room. The hit man couldn’t wear gloves without looking suspicious to Lisner, so he was very careful not to touch anything that could retain his fingerprints.

“See, nobody’s here but you and me,” Lisner announced.

“Maybe the noise came from outside,” Frank suggested.

Lisner led the way toward the rear of the house to check the backyard. As they passed through the dining room Frank pulled his gun. He fired two rounds into the back of Lisner’s head from point-blank range. And then the situation became surreal. Instead of going down, Lisner turned around and said, “What the … Why?” Then he started to run through the house toward the garage.

Frank caught up with him and emptied the rest of the bullets into his head. Lisner fell, but he was still alive, still moving. Frank had trouble believing what was happening. He got on top of the wounded man and held him down. Out of ammunition, his eyes searched for an alternate weapon. He saw a knife on a counter next to the door leading to the garage and made a grab for it; it was just out of his reach. Next he spotted an electric water cooler that was within his grasp. He ripped the cord out of the cooler to strangle his victim with, but when he wrapped it around Lisner’s neck, the cord broke.

Getting frustrated, Frank got up and dragged Lisner into the den. The man was still conscious and aware of what was going on. “My wife knows you’re here! She’s going to know you did this!” he screamed at Frank.

By that time Matecki had become concerned and came into the house; he was carrying an extra magazine of ammo with him. Frank reloaded the pistol and put pillows from a couch over Lisner’s head to muffle the gunshots. Frank then emptied the pistol into Lisner’s head again. It had taken ten rounds, but Lisner was finally dead. The killers dragged him outside to the pool and dumped him in. The body floated for a few seconds, then sank to the bottom.

Frank and Matecki went back into the house; there was blood everywhere. They wiped everything off, then checked the house for any security cameras or recorders. There weren’t any. They also looked for any papers or address books that might have had Frank or Tony’s name in them. They didn’t find any of those either.

After completing their search, the pair drove back to Frank’s place. They showered, scrubbed their hands with kitchen cleanser, and cut the clothes they had been wearing into little pieces. Then they drove the work car into the desert, scattering the dismantled gun and scraps of clothing. Finally, they parked the work car and Frank used his personal vehicle to drive his accomplice to McCarran Airport. Matecki was on a plane back to Chicago that same night.

The hit was big news all over town. The next night Frank met Tony at My Place; they talked in the parking lot. “I’ve got a couple of questions about Lisner,” Tony said. “We’ll talk about him now, but never again after tonight. Understand?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“How come you guys dumped him in the pool?”

“We wanted to get rid of some of the blood and any prints we might have left on his clothes.”

“That was a bit theatrical, wasn’t it?”

Frank shrugged. “We did what we figured we had to do.”

“How come you had to fire so many shots?”

“I was hitting him right in the fuckin’ head every time. But that small caliber didn’t work well, didn’t do the job.”

The two men didn’t discuss Lisner again.

Initially, the Lisner killing seemed to have been a total success. According to press reports, Metro was in the dark as to who killed Lisner or why. But the cops had their suspicions. They knew about the dead man’s legal problems. They knew about his cooperation with authorities. They knew who benefited from his demise. It didn’t take long for Frank to realize the law had an interest in him in regard to the murder. And because Lisner had been both a federal witness and defendant, the FBI was also able to get involved.

Shortly after the killing, Frank sold the work car to Herbie Blitzstein, the former Chicago bookie who helped operate Spilotro’s Gold Rush store. Blitzstein was working with the burglar Pete. Frank didn’t care for Pete at all. He wouldn’t follow orders and wasn’t kicking back the money he was supposed to. But Tony liked him and asked Frank to take him on some scores.

Frank protested. “Jesus, Tony. There’s something about that guy that bothers me. I’d just as soon not have him involved.”

“Frankie, I’ve got my reasons. Just do what I ask, huh?”

So, in spite of his misgivings, Frank let Pete hang around and took him on some jobs. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Later on, Pete began bringing around another thief, Sal Romano.

Romano was a burglar from Chicago and was familiar with Tony Spilotro, Frank Cullotta, and most of their crew. In the late 1970s, however, he came to the attention of agent Donn Sickles, who was working organized-crime cases out of the FBI’s Phoenix, Arizona, office.