Denono, a Las Vegas killer, again resorts to gift of gab

Gerald Denono, aging killer and former Las Vegas wiseguy, has always been the creative type.

In a Florida state prison for the 1973 murders of an elderly woman and a criminal partner, Denono learned the barbering trade and in 2010 completed two drawing classes. He was especially fond of portrait painting.

He's no Rembrandt, but then oils and acrylics aren't his mediums.

Blood is.

When it comes to writing, Denono possesses a certain gift. His late-1970s creation of the so-called "Las Vegas Ledger," which purported to catalog local corruption and mob activity, wasn't much on style, but it sure created a buzz throughout the law enforcement community. Combined with Denono's mastery of the art of persuasion, he managed to hoodwink rubes from the FBI in an attempt to win his freedom, or at least a feather bed, back when he was serving a life-without-parole sentence in Nevada for the 1972 murder of a Union Plaza cocktail waitress.

Turns out she wore a ring he wanted. The police found her corpse stuffed in a trunk in San Bernardino County.

Because of Denono's status as a protected witness, he worked his way through the system as a government informant. He was a good one, judging by published reports. Denono always possessed an amazing gift of gab. He was a smooth talker, a certified hustler, a guy who could have done big things in Las Vegas. But with Denono, talking was always second to violence.

Denono's FBI buddy Bill Roemer vouched for his character for many years. Roemer was fond of calling Denono, a transplanted Chicago burglar by trade sometimes known as Jerry English, a "mob hit man." It had a better ring to it than "lady killer."

Roemer was so smitten with Denono that he appeared on his behalf before the Nevada Parole Board and in 1999 helped the killer win parole for the Las Vegas murder.

In Florida, Denono sold a rich, elderly Ft. Lauderdale woman on the story that he could help finance a 40-acre land deal in Vegas that could produced untaxed income thanks to his "connections" in the local mob scene. He was known as a connected guy, after all. The woman was stabbed to death and robbed of her jewelry in 1973.

In those days, Denono's running mates included family relative David Bean and Leroy Poczynek. Bean would make grim headlines for the brutal murder of the teenage daughter of a local doctor. Poczynek was shot in the head by Denono to eliminate him as a potential adverse witness.

It was all a long time ago in an era of Las Vegas history that is increasingly romanticized in film and local lore. With help from Roemer, Denono made an appearance in a British documentary about the mob. He played the role of mob hit man, of course, and for some reason he wasn't wearing a prison uniform despite his status as an inmate serving life.

Although the Las Vegas Ledger was never authenticated, it wasn't Denono's last foray into creative writing. On Nov. 26, 2014, he wrote a letter to the members of the Florida Parole Commission.

He began, "Praying this letter finds you in good health and good spirits during this holiday season.

"... Most importantly, I want to express my most sincere sorrow for the pain I have caused everyone. While I could go on for pages upon pages I do not think you want to hear an old man blather on about the regrets of his past.

"Members of this commission, I am seventy-eight years old, I have spent the past forty years incarcerated, losing my immediate family due to prison, as the years passed I gradually began losing friends and family, now I have one aunt and uncle remaining. My greatest hope is you will grant me parole so I can spend what time I have left with the family I have left.

" ... Commission members, I pray the forty years of incarceration is enough; I was rehabilitated many years ago, I have cooperated extensively, I have great sorrow for those I have hurt, at this stage of my life, I am literally a harmless old man with many regrets, feeling his mortality hoping for another day in the sun."

Because he's a protected witness, the status of his appeal is murky. But notice that his letter doesn't mention the word murder, only the "great sorrow for those I have hurt," but you have to admit it's a persuasive story.

Just remember, the gift of gab was always Gerald Denono's second-best gift.

— John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Contact him at 702 383-0295, or jsmith@reviewjournal.com. On Twitter: @jlnevadasmith.