For years Rick Rizzolo's high-rolling life was the envy of most Vegas guys.

The owner of the Crazy Horse Too topless cabaret had entrée to nearly every level of local society. Where some skin joint operators were too uncouth even by Vegas standards, Rizzolo was the prince of the hug and warm greeting, a one-man movable feast who radiated old-school charm. He gambled high, ate well and lived large. Politicians, Hollywood celebrities and star athletes craved his company.

Although his ebullient personality surely served him well, it's safe to say the swells who surrounded him were as interested in his endless cash flow and friendly young women as his opinion on the news of the day.

Rizzolo himself is making news these days.

While the media is mostly focused on developments in federal court involving the trial of former Clark County Commissioners Dario Herrera and Mary Kincaid-Chauncey, and the eye-popping testimony of ex-politician Erin Kenny in association with payoffs she accepted from Cheetah's topless club owner Michael Galardi, the FBI and IRS racketeering and tax case continues to move forward against Rizzolo and others associated with the Crazy Horse Too.

Word is the Rizzolo case is approaching a critical stage. One road leads to a negotiated settlement, the other to a trial that threatens not only Rizzolo and Co., but his family members as well.

It's no secret his father, Bart Rizzolo, and sister, Annette Patterson, have been associated with the cash-rich business for many years. In a case that's one-part income tax probe, that could mean real problems for the family.

Add to that the fact Rizzolo in recent months has suffered from a heart ailment, and you have all the incentive most guys would need to settle their differences with the government, pay a reasonable debt to society, and try to move on with their lives. Almost anyone would think it reasonable to take a deal if it spared family members big headaches. Reasonable, even admirable.

The question is: How much would Rizzolo have to give up to clear up the Crazy Horse Too mess?

There's money, of course. Millions, in fact. Not only in penalties to the government, but to the family of Kansas tourist Kirk Henry, who suffered a broken neck in the parking lot of the club after a long night of partying.

Then there's an admission of guilt. His attorneys can argue at great length whether he was guilty of racketeering as the owner of a topless club that in recent years had gained great notoriety for violence on customers, but it would take the ghost of Clarence Darrow to successfully argue that Crazy Horse Too personnel -- and the employees of most such clubs, for that matter -- paid the appropriate tax on the scads of cash they took out of the business. I'm guessing they're dead on the potential tax issues.

It's speculation to ponder what the government would want in return, but here is just one area where Rizzolo and Galardi appear so different. Where Galardi was eager to cut a deal with the feds, sources say Rizzolo has been every bit the stand-up guy. And he's catching the full force of Uncle Sam because of it.

After all, Rizzolo knows plenty about the way the world turns in Las Vegas. Where Galardi wasn't really a political player but managed to generate names of persons of interest to corruption investigators, Rizzolo has been the consummate political pal and mob associate who could legitimately list scores of names that would make FBI agents salivate.

But he won't. Or to date, at least, sources say he hasn't shown the least interest in cooperating.

Maybe it's because the FBI and IRS have him all wrong and have no case. (Don't bet on it.) Maybe it's because Rizzolo is cut from different cloth than Galardi.

And just maybe it's because, as a high-rolling gambler who wouldn't dream of being banned from the casinos he adores, Rick Rizzolo knows his odds of cutting the best deal -- the one that protects his family and friends -- improve right up until an indictment is unsealed.

It's a dangerous game filled with the kind of pressure that gives some guys a heart attack and sends others running into the arms of the government, but it's obviously one he'll play until the final card is turned.

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