Former Clark County Commissioner Dario Herrera testifies Thursday in the political corruption trial involving himself and his former colleague Mary Kincaid-Chauncey. Illustration by David Stroud.

Strip club owner Michael Galardi might have believed he was regularly slipping his bagman thousands of dollars in cash to bribe Dario Herrera, but Herrera testified Thursday that he never received a single illicit payment.

The former Clark County commissioner suggested that Galardi's middleman, Lance Malone, was stealing the cash Galardi intended to be used to influence Herrera's votes for matters before the county board.

"If Mr. Galardi was giving Mr. Malone money to give to me, the only explanation was Mr. Malone was putting it in his pocket," Herrera told Assistant U.S. Attorney Daniel Schiess during cross-examination on Thursday.

Schiess suggested otherwise.

On the stand Thursday, Herrera's demeanor grew more tense as Schiess grilled him on several events in an attempt to show jurors that the former commissioner did pocket cash from Galardi and that those bribes swayed Herrera on Galardi-related matters.

Despite the close relationship that Herrera and Galardi forged, Schiess said, Herrera never disclosed his friendship before voting on matters considered by the commission.

Herrera was on the stand for the second day in the political corruption trial involving himself and his former colleague, Mary Kincaid-Chauncey. The two former Clark County commissioners were indicted in 2003 on charges they accepted bribes from Galardi in exchange for favorable votes.

They also were charged with depriving Clark County residents of honest services by failing to disclose their relationships with Galardi.

Former Clark County Commissioner Erin Kenny, Galardi and Malone also were indicted. Galardi and Kenny pleaded guilty and have testified on behalf of the government. Malone, Galardi's lobbyist who was convicted on similar charges in San Diego last summer, is scheduled to go to trial in August.

After testifying Thursday, Herrera said he was relieved he was able to tell his story.

"I'm incredibly exhausted," Herrera said. "But I'm completely relieved that I finally had a chance to tell the true side of the story."

Herrera's attorney, Jerry Bernstein, said he too was pleased with Herrera's testimony.

"I thought he did fine; he did very well against a tough cross-examination," Bernstein said.

After eight hours of cross-examination, Schiess approached Herrera in the hallway outside the courtroom and shook the defendant's hand.

"No hard feelings," Schiess said.

Under Schiess' questioning, Herrera explained that when he and Malone used the term "hooking up," captured on government wiretaps, they were simply talking about getting together as friends or meeting to discuss upcoming county issues. Herrera said he prided himself on being accessible to all his constituents.

Schiess disagreed. He suggested the phrase "hook up" was code for meetings during which Malone or Galardi would pay off Herrera.

Schiess cited a series of occasions when Malone and Herrera agreed to "hook up."

In August 2001, Herrera scheduled a quick meeting with Malone before Herrera left for a speaking engagement in Phoenix. Herrera testified that Malone wanted to discuss concerns Galardi had about the licensing and permitting for his new strip club, Jaguars.

Schiess played a telephone conversation between Malone and Galardi that was intercepted by the government after Herrera had set up the meeting.

"I mean, I'm just telling you, I mean, he wants, uh, he wants to hook up," Malone told Galardi.

"What do you think he wants?" Galardi asked.

"What do you think he wants?" Malone replied.

"No (expletive), huh," Galardi said, later adding, "He's got some balls, huh?"

When Schiess questioned Herrera on Thursday about the phone conversation, Herrera responded: "I have no idea what that exchange was about."

Schiess pounded Herrera with questions about a sequence of events that unfolded later that month, when commissioners were scheduled to approve a license for Jaguars. On Aug. 28, 2001, the eve of the vote, Herrera dined with Malone and Galardi to discuss the upcoming item.

"My job is to sit there and listen to a business owner," Herrera said Thursday, explaining the dinner engagement. "I may ask them questions and they may ask me about my concerns."

The following morning, Herrera sprained his ankle playing basketball and phoned in his vote to approve the license.

Herrera explained to Schiess that he felt compelled to vote because he told Galardi he supported the license application. He added that he would have done the same thing for other business owners.

Galardi left a phone message on Herrera's machine later that day: "You're the man, brother. Thanks for takin' care of me, I appreciate it. Hey, give me a call, let's, uh, let's hook up tonight."

That evening, Herrera is captured on video surveillance pulling into the Cheetah's parking lot and sitting in his car for several minutes. Herrera drove off after learning that Galardi was not at the club.

Herrera testified that he and Galardi agreed to talk about other county issues they did not have time to discuss during their dinner the previous night. Schiess expressed doubt that Herrera would meet with Galardi to discuss county matters on the day he badly sprained his ankle and was on crutches.

Later that night, Herrera and his friend played blackjack at Treasure Island. Herrera testified that he won $4,300 -- money that he used to buy his mistress a diamond necklace. The prosecution contends the cash for the jewelry came from Galardi.

When Schiess asked Herrera on Wednesday whether he remembered anything unusual about that August day, Herrera responded: "I'm sorry, I don't." On Thursday, however, Herrera recalled it was the day he injured his ankle.

"Is the reason yesterday you couldn't remember that fact was because you were fabricating your story?" Schiess asked.

Herrera denied he had lied on the stand.

On Aug. 30, 2001, Herrera and Galardi again agreed to "hook up" to discuss the Sporting House fitness club's plans to convert into a strip club. That night, Herrera entered the side door at Galardi's Cheetah's office and met with him for about 15 minutes.

"We were there long enough to discuss the Sporting House issue," Herrera said, when asked about the encounter.

Schiess suggested that Herrera would not have driven across town for a meeting, unless it was to pick up a cash payment.

"That 15-minute conversation could have easily taken place over the phone, correct?" Schiess asked. "It took you more time to drive there than it took for the conversation to occur."

Herrera testified that he called Malone in September 2001 and asked for a loan to buy furniture for an apartment he had rented after separating from his wife. Herrera said he was struggling financially, adding that he still makes monthly payments to the IRS to catch up on his taxes.

Malone relayed Herrera's need for money to Galardi on Sept. 18, 2001: "He was hopin', uh, he was hopin' to hook up with, uh, three months in advance."

"Well, we can do that, just tell him I'll get it to him on Thursday," Galardi replied.

Herrera has consistently rejected the federal government's claim that Galardi paid him $10,000 a month to protect his clubs from harmful action by the commission. But Schiess said the phone conversation indicates Galardi was paying Herrera on a regular basis.

Schiess asked Herrera whether it was strange that Galardi never asked why Herrera needed the money, or wondered what Malone meant by "three months in advance."

Herrera testified that the conversation was further evidence that Malone was stealing money.

"That's a clear indication of Lance setting up Mr. Galardi," Herrera said, referring to the phone conversation.

Herrera was excused from the stand Thursday afternoon.

U.S. District Judge Larry Hicks told jurors he expects the trial to wrap up next week.