Citizen Hughes - Michael Drosnin [156]
“If we are not going to open on July 1, we would very much appreciate your giving us a fixed date (whenever),” he replied, gently urging Hughes toward a decision. “We truly believe that July 1 is a good target. If on the other hand you have a reason why July 1 bothers you, you need not give us that reason, but we beg you to give us a fixed date.”
Hughes had a reason, and he was pleased to give it. What he would not give Maheu was the date.
“I would hate to see the Landmark open on the 1st of July and then watch the International open a few days later and make the Landmark opening look like small potatoes by comparison,” explained Hughes. “Also, I would hate to see the International open with Barbara Streisand while the Landmark has no name on the marquee.
“So, please string along with me on an open date,” he insisted, relieved to have found a reason to avoid making the decision. “If you will go along with the above, then may I persuade you to help me try to find the very strongest name that can be made available by any conceivable device?”
Unwilling to set a date, Hughes was more than willing to throw himself into planning the party. Down to the smallest detail. The big question, however, was who would entertain.
There were pipe dreams. Bob Hope. Hope and Crosby. But neither had ever performed in Las Vegas. How about Dean Martin? He used to work at the Sands, but left soon after Sinatra stormed out. Now Martin was under exclusive contract to another hotel, indeed was part-owner, but Hughes wanted him. By any conceivable device.
“Before I try to obtain somebody from my Hollywood contacts,” he schemed, “do you think there is any slightest possibility of getting Dean Martin by the following strategy:
“I think Martin can be motivated by one of three factors, or all three:
“1. Money—a capital gain on some asset he no doubt owns.
“2. An agreement to finance some picture he would like to make. (Bob, there is not an actor alive who does not have some pet idea he would like to make into a movie. If Dean Martin does not have such a pet idea, he will be the first movie star I have ever heard of in my entire life who does not.)
“3. I think Martin can be persuaded that my friendship may, in one way or another, be important to him sometime. I also think he can, very carefully, be persuaded I have a deep hurt from the lousy way he acted, and I think he can be motivated to repair the damage.…”
The idea of getting Martin, of enticing him away from the “Rat Pack,” of stealing him back from his reputed mobster partners, began to really excite Hughes.
“Can you imagine the nationwide publicity possibilities of Martin performing at the Landmark when he owns part of the Riviera?” Hughes added in a P.S.
“I can see some smart reporter, with the proper encouragement, taking this thing and writing a complete dime novel out of the behind the scenes ‘True Story.’ Dont you see the possibilities of creating a plot out of that situation: Las Vegas moguls fight battle under the glittering surface. First Sinatra, then Martin walks out—then, the axe falls.
“I know one thing,” added Hughes, concocting his own dime novel, “if I were a newspaper reporter, and my editor told me to take that story and make the most of it, I would have everybody from Sinatra to Martin to Moe Dalitz, the Justice Department, and two hired guns in it before I got through.”
Maheu, also excited about getting Martin, offered an even grander vision. They would reunite the entire old “Rat Pack” on the stage of the Landmark, a coup that would truly leave its mark on Las Vegas history. Maheu took it one step further. They would call the whole dazzling assemblage of talent the “Hughes Parade of Stars.”
The concept disturbed Hughes. He was not ready to step out on the stage.
“First, Bob, I dont think my name should be used in connection with a theatrical production at the Landmark,” he wrote, instantly deflating Maheu’s dream. “I am fearful