A Murder in Vegas captures the interest of Hollywwod

When the inevitable movie is made of the most remarkable case in Las Vegas’ colourful history, expect to hear complaints of the story being unbelievable and too complicated. The truth behind the murder of former casino executive Lonnie “Ted” Binion may, in fact, be stranger than fiction, but it is genuinely compelling and, frankly, entertaining. In the year and a half following his death in September 1998 – from the discovery of his body on the den floor of his expensive ranch house to the murder conviction in late May of Sandy Murphy and Rick Tabish – the saga captured the attention of millions, who have thrilled to this labyrinthian tale of greed, lust and murder.

Binion was one of Las Vegas’ best-known figures. His father, Benny Binion, established Binion’s Horseshoe Casino, which has been a Vegas landmark since the 1940s. Ted grew up wealthy and privileged, and, while he did not attend college, he was said to have been intelligent and well versed in politics and history. He developed a heroin habit, however, and that eventually led to the state revoking his gaming licence in 1997. He lost control of the Horseshoe to his sister, Becky Behnen, in a bitter family feud that left the clan divided – though not so alienated they didn’t question the initial suggestion that Binion’s death was accidental.

When his body was discovered by his live-in girlfriend, Sandy Murphy, on September 17, 1998, few were surprised to learn he had ingested a lethal amount of heroin and the prescription drug Xanax. No suicide note was found, and many assumed his reckless lifestyle had finally caught up with him. Eyebrows were raised by the fact that the prescription had been filled the day before, but suspicions were truly aroused when, the night after Binion’s death, Rick Tabish – a friend of Binion’s – was found digging up millions of dollars’ worth of silver that Binion had buried in a nearby town. The loot was so heavy the dump truck holding it sunk under the weight.

“I was astounded when I got up on the truck,” said Nye County Sheriff Wade Lieske. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was literally tons and tons of silver.”

Tabish, an ex-con from Montana, had buried the silver on Binion’s wishes, and claimed that Binion had instructed him to take care of the money if

something happened to him. Authorities were not impressed, particularly with the timing. Nor did they take lightly the rumours of a relationship between Murphy and Tabish – rumors that were confirmed when detectives arriving at Murphy’s apartment at 7 a.m. found the pair together.

“They are looking to each other for support to get through the intensity of the investigation,” claimed Murphy’s then-lawyer Oscar Goodman (now mayor of Las Vegas). “As far as I know… that is the extent of it.”

It clearly wasn’t, and the investigation focused on the pair. It was learned that Binion had suspected Murphy of having an affair and wanted her removed from his will. Phone records showed that Tabish had phoned Murphy minutes before she reported the death to the police. Believing they had enough evidence, authorities arrested Murphy and Tabish in a local supermarket, to be held without bail.

The fact that much of the evidence was uncovered by a private investigator hired by the Binion family added to the cinematic quality of the drama. At the preliminary hearing, Murphy’s manicurist said that Murphy had told her about her failing romance with Binion, and her emerging romance with a new man. Manicurist Deanna Perry explained that Murphy said she would “stay with him until he died,” which she apparently claimed would be of a heroin overdose. Other witnesses revealed that Tabish had been experiencing financial difficulties just before Binion’s death.

When the case finally went to trial, defence attorneys for Murphy and Tabish tried to revive the idea that the overdose was self-administered and their clients were being made scapegoats by the “Binion money machine.” Still, the defendants did little to enhance their image: Murphy ignored her house-arrest to shop for furniture and behaved erratically throughout the trial, while Tabish’s case was damaged by the revelations of his friend, Jason Frazier, who was arranging a false alibi for him. Frazier also told prosecutors that Tabish had bragged he would make $200,000 to $300,000 for the movie rights to the story. Among the other sideshows the case provided was the séance organized by publicists for the defence team. Eleven psychics tried to contact Ted Binion’s spirit to find out how he had died. Binion did not join them, so the psychics voted 8-3 that Murphy and Tabish were guilty.

While it took the psychics a few hours to reach their democratic conclusion, the court trial dragged on for seven weeks. At one point during deliberations, the jurors wrote a letter to the judge, Joseph Bonaventure, explaining that they didn’t want him to think they were incapable of reaching a verdict, but their pace would allow them to weigh all the evidence. Meanwhile, the media frenzy continued to grow, and the courtroom theatrics continued. While trying to establish Tabish’s innocence in a related beating incident, his lawyer asked for permission to hit his client with a phone book six to eight times to show how it would leave marks that were not present on the alleged victim.

“This is a new one,” the incredulous judge remarked. “You want to beat the hell out of your client?”

Finally, after eight days of deliberation, the jury returned to the courtroom to deliver its verdict. The trial had taken a heavy toll on all involved: four members of the jury were wearing sunglasses to hide the emotional wear. Binion’s relatives, as well as the families of the defendants (including Tabish’s wife, who supported him despite his affair with Murphy), watched proceedings with nervous anticipation in the courtroom while an overflow crowd watched on monitors down the hall. When the foreman announced that the jury had found the pair guilty on all counts, the overflow crowd cheered, the families wept, and Murphy and Tabish sat in silence.

In the immediate aftermath, representatives of the defendants continued to proclaim their clients’ innocence, and were angry that much of the evidence that convicted Murphy and Tabish was gathered not by police but by a private investigator. Members of the jury refused to speak to the press, while Binion’s sister, Becky, told reporters she felt vindicated. She had pressed for a further investigation of her brother’s death when it was still believed he had died accidentally.

The following week, the sentences were handed down to the pair; both received life sentences with the chance of parole in 20 years. They will also be sentenced in August for a number of related crimes, which could increase their jail time. In their closing statements before the jury, Tabish admitted he was “ashamed of himself” for his conduct during the trial, while Murphy insisted that the love she felt for Binion was real and that she missed her one-time lover. The pair’s lawyers declared that an appeal was pending, and there remain a number of related trials for some of the other players in this drama.

Through it all, gambling continued as usual at Binion’s Horseshoe – and you can bet that this story’s not over yet.