The Nevada Gaming Commission oversees regulates the granting of casino licenses and the hiring of casino personnel. The Commission is a "rubber-stamp" panel that does the bidding of the Gaming Control Board and the Clark County Liquor Control Board. The same five men (the Clark County Sheriff District Attorney 3 appointed "Civilian" members) serve on both boards. Thus, the power to approve liquor and casino license applicants for the entire state rests solely in Las Vegas. None of the 5 board members are overtly organized-crime-connected it is difficult to assess the level of collusion the boards engage in, because a majority of the applications they review cloak hidden organized-crime backing that is difficult to detect. There are no dossiers available on members of the above organizations. The LVPD Intelligence Unit keeps detailed files on the Gaming Control Liquor Board men, but has consistently refused to grant the FBI U.S. Attorney's Office access to them. (As previously stated, the LVPD is strongly organized-crime-influenced.) The LVPD Intelligence Unit operates city countywide is the sole such unit in Clark County. It is a 2-man operation. The commanding officer is Lieutenant Byron B. Fritsch (the adjutant of the LVPD Detective Bureau strongly connected to the Casino Operators Council) the only assigned officer is Sergeant Wayne Tedrow Jr. (Sgt. Tedrow is the son of the aforementioned Wayne Tedrow Sr. He is considered incorruptible by Las Vegas Police standards.)
Concluding note: Addendum Files #B-1, 2, 3, 4, 5 require duplicate authorization: Southern Nevada SAC Deputy Director Tolson.
_DOCUMENT INSERT_: 12/2/63. Verbatim FBI telephone call transcript. Marked: "Recorded at the Director's Request"/"Classifled Confidential 1-A: Director's Eyes Only." Speaking: Director Hoover, Ward J. Littell.
JEH: Good morning, Mr. Littell.
WJL: Good morning, Sir. And thank you for the carbons.
JEH: Las Vegas is a hellhole. it is unfit for sane habitation, which may explain its allure to Howard Hughes.
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Let's talk about Dallas.
WJL: The consensus feels secure, Sir. And the Oswald killing seems to be a popular denouement.
JEH: Mr. Ruby has gotten four thousand fan letters. He is quite popular with Jews.
WJL: I'll concede him a certain panache, Sir.
JEH: Will you concede his ability to keep his mouth shut?
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: I agree with you on the consensus. And I want you to include your thoughts in a detailed report on the events of that hallowed weekend. I will attribute the report to Dallas agents and submit it directly to President Johnson.
WJL: I'll begin work immediately, Sir.
JEH: The President will announce a commission to investigate King Jack's death. I will hand-pick the field agents. Your report will provide the President with a snappy preview of their findings.
WJL: Has he formed an opinion, Sir?
JEH: He suspects Mr. Castro or unruly Cuban exiles. In his view, the killing stemmed from King Jack's reckless blunders in the Caribbean.
WJL: It's an informed perspective, Sir.
JEH: I'll concede the point and concede that Lyndon Johnson is no dummy. He has a conveniently dead assassin and a citizenry avenged on national television. What more could he ask for?
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: And he's appropriately fed up with the Cuban boondoggle. He's going to drop it as a national-security issue and concentrate on the situation in Vietnam.
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Your tone did not escape me, Mr. Littell. I know that you disapprove of American colonialism and consider our God-given mandate to contain global communism as ill-conceived.
WJL: That's true, Sir.
JEH: The attendant irony has not escaped me. A closet leftist as front man for Howard Hughes and his colonialist designs.
WJL: Strange bedfellows, Sir.
JEH: And how would you describe his designs?
WJL: He wants to circumvent anti-trust laws and purchase all the hotel-casinos on the Las Vegas Strip. He won't spend a dime until he settles his stock-divestment suit with TWA and accrues at least 500 million dollars. I think the suit will resolve in three or four years.
JEH: And your job is to pre-colonize Las Vegas?
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: I would like a blunt assessment of Mr. Hughes' mental state.
WJL: Mr. Hughes injects codeine in his arms, legs and penis. He eats only pizza pies and ice cream. He receives frequent transfusions of "germ-free" Mormon blood. His employees routinely refer to him as "the Count," "Count Dracula" and "Drac."
JEH: A vivid assessment.
WJL: He's lucid half the time, Sir. And he's single-mindedly fixed on Las Vegas.
JEH: Bobby's anti-Mob crusade may have repercussions there.
WJL: Do you think he'll remain in the cabinet?
JEH: No. He hates Lyndon Johnson, and Lyndon Johnson more than reciprocates. I think he'll resign his appointment. And his successor may have Las Vegas plans that I will be powerless to curtail.
WJL: Specifically, Sir?
JEH: Bobby had been considering skim operations.
WJL: Mr. Marcello and the others have plans for Mr. Hughes' holdings.
JEH: How could they not? They have a drug-addicted vampire to victimize, and you to help them suck his blood.
WJL: They know that you bear them no rancor, Sir. They'll understand that some of Bobby's plans will be implemented by his successor.
JEH: Yes. And if the Count buys into Las Vegas and cleans up its image, those plans might be abandoned.
WJL: Yes, Sir. The thought had occurred to me.
JEH: I would like to know what the Dark Prince thinks about his brother's death.
WJL: So would I.
JEH: Of course you would. Robert F. Kennedy is both your savior and your bкte noire, and I'm hardly the one to indict you as a voyeur.
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Would a bug-and-tap approach work?
WJL: No, Sir. But I'll talk to my other clients and see what they suggest.
JEH: I need someone with a "fallen liberal" image. I may ask a favor of you.
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Good day, Mr. Littell.
WJL: Good day, Sir.
14
(Las Vegas, 12/4/63)
They worked him. Two pros: Buddy Fritsch and Captain Bob Gilstrap.
They used the chief's office. They hemmed Wayne in. They deployed the chief's couch.
He'd stalled the meeting. He'd filed a report and filled lies in. He downplayed Moore's vanishing act.
He drove Moore's car to the dump. He stripped the plates. He pulled out Moore's teeth. He dug out his bullets. He stuffed shotgun shells in his mouth. He gas-soaked a rag. He lit it.
Moore's head blew. He fucked up would-be forensics. He dumped the car in a sludge pit. It sunk fast.
The pit steamed. He knew chemistry. Caustics ate flesh and sheet metal.
He mock-chased Wendell D. He called Buddy Fritsch and lied. He said I can't find him. I can't find Maynard Moore.
He leaned on Willis Beaudine. He told him to split Dallas. Beaudine grabbed his dog and skedaddled. He drove by DPD. He pulled some file sheets. He obscured Wendell Durfee's KAs. He buttonholed cops-you seen Maynard Moore?
Fritsch de-Wendellized him. Fritsch pulled the plug. Fritsch called him back home.
They worked him. They hemmed him in. They cracked JFK jokes. JFK groped a nurse and a nun. JFK's last word was "pussy."
Fritsch said, "We read your report."
Gilstrap said, "You must have had some time. I mean, the Kennedy deal and you trading shots with that spook."