Tuesday, May 20, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

COLUMN: John L. Smith

Mayor makes no excuse for old associations, but who's Vinnie Ocean?

He tries to go straight, but they keep dragging him back in.

It's a line from a gangster epic, a cliche uttered by repeat offenders, but it is not an excuse coming from Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman.

He might have gone straight, but he certainly has not been dragged back in by his old mob clients. On the contrary. He's long found their company irresistible, and elected office hasn't changed that.

While the controversy over Goodman's associations isn't new, recent twists portend trouble for the mayor at a critical time in his political career.

First, a bit of background.

When he took office in 1999, Goodman was tickled that his notorious former clients chose to remain silent. Clearly, he said, they understood the unnecessary heat their presence in his public life would generate.

But it wasn't the wiseguys who had a hard time saying no. It was Goodman, whose personal definition of friendship and loyalty exceeds anything dreamed up by the boss of bosses.

When his friend and former client, Gambino war horse Natale Richichi, died in January 2001, not even the elderly gangster's family expected Goodman to attend the services.

So of course he did.

In February, casino Black Book member Joey Cusumano attended Goodman daughter Cara's engagement party at the family home. (I was there, too.) And why not? Cusumano is a former client and family friend who'd also attended Cara's bat mitzvah.

Notice that Cusumano was invited. He didn't hop the back wall. He was Goodman's friend.

Last week, we learned that another Goodman favorite, ancient Colombo crime family capo Charles "Charlie Moose" Panarella, had visited City Hall.

With his walker, Panarella strikes nowhere near the intimidating pose he once held as a tough union man and reputed mobster a generation ago in New York.

Goodman made no effort to deny the undeniable, that his former client Panarella was an acquaintance who'd come up to the 10th floor unannounced.

The mayor clearly gets a kick out of Panarella. It was Panarella and "Big Chris" Richichi who gave Goodman one of his most cherished awards: a set of steel ball bearings suitable for framing.

"I don't forsake people who've been good to me," Goodman says. "I have nothing to hide and nothing to fear as long as the truth is told."

More troublesome are the allegations that a New Jersey mob figure named Vincent Palermo paid a visit to Goodman's office during the first mayoral campaign and attempted to encourage favorable topless cabaret zoning treatment with a $10,000 donation by proxy.

Goodman says no such meeting ever took place, but it is true that police sources in 1999 tracked more than one organized crime group's interest in Las Vegas strip clubs.

(The story is made hilarious by the misidentification of Goodman in a New York Daily News photograph. The man pictured is Gov. Kenny Guinn.)

Goodman denies knowing Palermo, who is known as "Vinnie Ocean" and was once a DeCavalcante crime family boss before becoming an FBI informant. If he'd ever heard of anyone called Vinnie Ocean, Goodman said, he'd surely remember.

Richichi, Cusumano, and Panarella are old clients and friends. But Vinnie Ocean?

This new twist invites problems that could stick even to Goodman's amazing Teflon.

It might seem odd to say it, but the wiseguys in his life don't portend the most trouble for the mayor. It's the emotionally distressed former mayoral aide Bill Cassidy who holds that distinction.

Cassidy, who rose to notoriety during the Ted Binion murder case when he acted as defendant Sandy Murphy's confidant, is in the slammer awaiting trial on charges he sexually assaulted his girlfriend and burned her massage school.

He worked as a private investigator for Goodman for years and claims an eclectic resume that ranges from CIA associate to Asian organized crime specialist.

A man who once worked in a top law firm, Cassidy now represents himself at trial.

He's desperate, and Goodman made powerful enemies in his previous life as a mob attorney.

All of which means nothing as long as Oscar Goodman has gone straight.

John L. Smith's column appears Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.