• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Hughes was upset. Not about losing Sinatra but about losing him to a rival hotel. He saw the entire brouhaha as a plot by the Caesar’s crowd to steal his property.

“It seems to me that if they (Caesar’s Palace) want what we have (Sinatra), they ought to deal with us in a decent and honorable way and buy it,” he fumed. “Not try to take it for nothing.

“I dont intend to take this lying down. Sinatra made three pictures for me at RKO. I know him backward and frontward. All actors are a little crazy. But I dont intend the Caesar’s group making us look weak and stupid.”

Hughes of course had a plan.

“My script is something like this,” he told Maheu. “Contact Sinatra now—before he gets too loaded. If he is asleep, give reasonable time only for recuperation. I urge you to tell him:

“ ‘Howard doesn’t know if you remember the time when you were friends. But he remembers—it was back in the days when you were flying a Bonanza, one of the first ones on the coast. Anyway, he remembers, and when he heard of the recent events, he was distressed beyond measure. However, he was hesitant to inject himself between you and Cohen, since you had been close friends for such a very long time. He even remembers (or thinks he remembers) you introducing Sammy Davis Jr. to the public for the first time from the stage of the Sands.

“ ‘Anyway, returning to recent events, the story that was related to him was so fantastic it seemed as if it could only have occurred in a nightmare, not reality.’

“Please tell Frank that the only way I know to show that the recent events do not in any way reflect my feelings or wishes is to suggest that he visit the Sands or the Desert Inn and ask for $500,000 or $1,000,000 in chips and see what results he gets. I think he will find that he is not even asked to sign the marker.”

Old Black and Blue Eyes disdained the offer. But the press treated the whole affair as if Sinatra had literally been kicked out of the Sands and suggested that he had been booted on Hughes’s orders. There was some talk that it all had to do with lingering jealousies over Lana Turner, or perhaps Ava Gardner, but the favorite rumor had it that when Hughes was told of the fracas he just asked, “Frank who?”

In any event, it seemed symbolic of a revolution in Las Vegas. Sinatra and the old gang were out. Howard Hughes was in. Not only nightclub comedians noticed the change. Far from Las Vegas, others without a sense of humor also paid heed.

On June 28, 1968, just as Hughes was about to take control of the Stardust, U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark brought his Monopoly game to a sudden halt. Clark threatened that if Hughes closed the 30.5 million-dollar deal, he would haul him into court for violating antitrust laws.

Hughes was furious. He would not be intimidated. He would go right ahead with the Stardust deal. At first, he would not even consider a delay. He was certain that the entire country was as focused on the big showdown as he was. How would it look if he backed down?

“Why must we delay the closing?” he demanded.

“I am positive it is a mistake. It will focus the attention of the whole U.S. on this deal. The press, T.V., and Life Magazine will make an Irish Sweepstakes out of this. (They will even be booking bets on whether we will be able to take over or not.)

“The whole country will be focused on this deal, and they will all know that it was the Justice Dept. who caused it with a charge of anti-trust violation. And that has a nasty sound in itself. Also, somebody will dig up the fact that I am presently being sued by T.W.A. on an anti-trust violation, that is the biggest civil law suit in history. I can just see the editorials, like: ‘Can’t that man go anywhere without running afoul of those anti-trust laws??’

“Take my word, and I mean this, if we do not close now, this deal will never go through.”

Maheu encouraged Hughes in his bravado.

“You can bet your life that the anti-trust division will live to regret their