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Tuesday, February 16, 1999
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal
COLUMN: John L. Smith
Binion estate battle an all-in-the-family affair of attorneys
For a moment last week, I could have sworn that I was not in District Judge Mike Cherry's cramped auxiliary courtroom, but had been transported back in time to what can politely be described as the old Las Vegas.
Was it 1999 or 1979?
When it came to the eerily close relationships between the key players involved in the wicked probate battle over the estate of Lonnie "Ted" Binion, I suspect I wasn't the only one checking his calendar.
Did my eyes deceive me, or were attorneys Oscar Goodman and David Chesnoff really squared off in a pitched battle against a legal team that included their friend and former client Harry Claiborne?
The dictionary defines incest, beyond its sexual denotation, as a situation in which persons are deemed as "being too closely involved." I wouldn't claim to be a legal scholar, but there's something akin to legal incest going on in the Binion probate case.
First, there's attorney Richard Wright, who acted as Sandy Murphy's attorney on the day Binion's body was discovered and now doesn't hesitate to state in court that he blames her and Rick Tabish in the death of his friend, Ted.
There's Chesnoff and Goodman, who are quick to call Ted their dear friend and yet represent the woman on whom law enforcement authorities are focusing their homicide investigation. How could such good friends represent the interests of a suspect in Binion's drug-related death?
Let's not forget attorney Louis Palazzo, who represents Tabish, a potential suspect in Binion's death. Palazzo works out of Goodman's law office. Not that Murphy, Ted Binion's girlfriend, and Tabish, who was caught digging up a cache of Binion loot, might soon have conflicting interests if Metro detectives present a case of homicide to the district attorney's office. No, not much.
Last, there's Claiborne, the longtime criminal defense attorney and former U.S. district judge who was dragged from the bench and impeached following a tax evasion conviction.
Goodman and Chesnoff fought like wildcats to protect Claiborne's rights. They went to the brink of contempt and beyond to save Claiborne from bribery charges involving Mustang Ranch whoremaster Joe Conforte. They vilified the FBI at every turn, alleged wrongdoing ranging from illegal wiretaps to breaking and entering, devoted countless hours to the cause of saving their good friend the judge from shame and prison. Legend has it Claiborne's defense was sponsored by none other than Benny Binion.
In fact, Goodman and Chesnoff were among the key players who battled all the way to the floor of the U.S. Senate in a desperate, and ultimately failed, attempt to save Claiborne from being stripped of his robes and impeached.
In public statements, Chesnoff and Goodman have worshipped Claiborne.
But on Thursday, it was Claiborne who ranted at length against Chesnoff's depiction of Murphy as the victim of persecution by Wright & Co. Chesnoff, himself no slouch in the rhetoric department, managed to keep from smirking and took the scolding.
Murphy, meanwhile, took the Fifth Amendment more than 200 times and declined to answer questions posed by attorney Bruce Judd that were designed to make her look like a tramp, thief, gold digger and accessory to murder. Not to mention Binion's lover and dear friend.
Frankly, I've never seen a guy with so many dear friends be treated so poorly by them. It takes an adding machine to count all the close associates, old pals and father figures Binion had in his life.
But not one of them managed to sober him up.
Like a lot of people who are stupid rich, Binion had all the friends money could buy, and his money is at the heart of this story. He left an estate worth untold millions.
Doubters take note, I'll make a minor prediction and say that Sandy Murphy will receive not a dime once this fight is finished. What the court does not deny her will be consumed in attorneys' fees.
And that's presuming she is never charged criminally in Binion's death.
More than anything, the recent courtroom scene was reminiscent of a time, not so many years ago, when casual observers could stroll into the coffee shop at Binion's Horseshoe and watch attorneys and judges dine daily with Horseshoe patriarch Benny Binion. Those same attorneys and judges later represented and stood in judgment of Binion family members who faced felony charges.
This eerie brand of legal incest is a tradition around these parts.
From the look of things, the tradition continues.
John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Reach him at 383-0295 or John_L._Smith@lvrj.com.
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