Published on: December 12, 2025, 08:21h.
Updated on: December 12, 2025, 09:37h.
- Riata Casino was a fleeting venture on the Las Vegas Strip during the early 1970s
- Launched by two childhood friends, the casino rapidly came under mob control
- The site later transformed into Silver City, which shuttered its doors in 1999
The chauffeur showed up at the hotel exactly at 9 p.m., swinging open the back door of a sleek, tinted luxury car for Don Fertel. Inside sat an unfamiliar man, who promptly handed Fertel a pillowcase and instructed him to cover his head. It was a command, not a request.
Fertel, a Jewish real estate mogul from El Paso with five children, had never desired to own a Las Vegas casino. Yet, here he was, in deep trouble, on his way to meet Anthony “Tony the Ant” Spilotro.
“My dad has this pillowcase over his head and is freaking out because he suddenly realizes he might be in serious trouble and is heading somewhere he really doesn’t want to go,” recounted Bruce Fertel, Don’s eldest son, in an interview with Casino.org. Bruce, now retired from a print business in Florida, released “The Front Man” this year, detailing his father’s previously hidden and unwelcome connections with the Las Vegas mob.
High-Stakes Gamble
The elder Fertel ventured into the Riata Casino after a serendipitous meeting with childhood friend Lou Karras at a Caesars Palace craps table in 1970. Karras, then a lieutenant for Sheriff Ralph Lamb, was eager to leave law enforcement and delve into casino fortune. He persuaded Fertel to fund 75% of their new business, with himself contributing 25%.
They launched the Riata (Spanish for “lasso”) on July 1, 1973, offering a western-themed ambiance complete with a Tex-Mex restaurant.
“Initially, it was raking in money,” Bruce shared. “The casino was thriving, and tables were filled.”
But then the mob made its move. Moe Dalitz of the Cleveland outfit—previously the owner of the Desert Inn and Stardust—approached to become a “silent partner.” Fertel turned him down.
That was the last refusal he could afford.
“My dad always took pride in saying he wouldn’t be a façade for the mob,” Bruce remarked. “It took time for me to realize, after finishing the book, that he did end up serving as a front for them—even though he secured the license and financed the venture.”
Underworld Control
The mob didn’t require official consent to take over a casino; all they needed was to place one of their own in a managerial role. Fertel and Karras, unfortunately naive, accepted the sheriff’s recommendation of John Jenkins as the manager.
“My dad and his partner were incredibly naive and had no clue how entrenched the mob was in Las Vegas,” Bruce stated. “It’s surprising looking back on it.”
Jenkins brought in crew members and pit bosses he had worked with at the Aladdin. Unbeknownst to Fertel and Karras, the casino was now under the control of the Detroit mob, too.
As time passed, they noticed the financial reports didn’t align with the crowd sizes.
“They utilized fill slips,” Bruce noted. “If a blackjack table was running low on chips, a guardsman would deliver chips from the cage. The dealer would sign for thousands, but only half made it to the table— the rest went back to the cage to be skimmed.”
“This practice was widespread all along the Strip.”
By January 1974, Fertel and Karras, realizing the severity of their predicament, sought a buyer for the struggling casino. For weeks, they received no interest until a significant opportunity appeared.
Benny Binion, the notorious outlaw-turned-casino mogul, had thoughts of expanding his downtown operation to the Strip. He invited Fertel for a chat at the bar at Binion’s Horseshoe. By that time, his partnership with Karras had unraveled because Fertel believed Karras, as a former police officer and the day-to-day manager, should have noticed the turmoil that had been brewing.
The meeting was brief. Binion and Fertel shook hands, and Binion stated he would review the financials and get back to him within a week.
However, Fertel suspected someone else had influenced Binion first. When a week passed without any communication, he reached out to Binion’s assistant, only to learn that Binion “is no longer interested.”
Then came an ominous late-night phone call warning Fertel to flee town. The caller knew the address of Fertel’s home in El Paso and could name Bruce and his four siblings.
Twilight Encounter
Through the damp pillowcase, Fertel noticed headlights as he was driven 45 minutes into the desert. He regretted keeping the meeting’s details a secret, especially who had arranged it.
Of course, that would be Frank “Lefty” Rosenthal, the inspiration for Robert De Niro’s character in “Casino.” He had gotten word from an associate that the Riata’s owner was interested in selling.
With an independent casino operating directly across from the Stardust, it likely didn’t sit well with the Chicago outfit either.
Once the vehicle pulled into a run-down diner, Fertel’s pillowcase was removed. Inside, a leather-jacketed man with slicked-back hair introduced himself as Tony and inquired, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Fertel politely turned down the offer and mentioned that Rosenthal had indicated Spilotro might know a buyer. This caused Spilotro to bristle.
“Mr. Rosenthal doesn’t always have the right information,” he snapped. “You’re looking at the wrong person!”
What followed was a lengthy tirade, reminiscent of Joe Pesci’s character in “Casino”:
I can’t believe you’re saying your casino’s losing money. What do you mean?! You must be the only casino in town not turning a profit! Are you clueless about what you’re doing?”
Fertel quickly understood that his fate was now in the hands of this volatile man.
After a few hours, Spilotro offered to take Fertel back to the El Morocco, the motel where he had been staying. Another ride he couldn’t refuse, it stretched until dawn, largely filled with silence and unexplainable detours at random apartments and casinos. Ultimately, Spilotro delivered his real message:
“No one is going to express interest in your casino, so don’t bother looking for a buyer. Major Riddle will end up with your casino.”
Riddle’s Gambit
Riddle, a Chicago mobster, had gained control of the Dunes in 1956 using loans from Teamsters pension funds. He remained its flamboyant owner until his passing in 1980.
Just hours after Spilotro dropped him off, Fertel reached out to the Dunes to arrange a meeting with Riddle. During their encounter, Riddle claimed he had no interest in acquiring the Riata.
That statement was misleading. What he lacked interest in was paying for it.
Recognizing that no other offers would surface, Riddle and the Chicago mob waited for Fertel to file for bankruptcy. The Riata ultimately closed in August 1974.
When Fertel returned to El Paso, he learned through a small article sent to him from the Las Vegas Review-Journal that Riddle had bought the Riata from the bank and renamed it.
Legacy of Silver City
After Riddle’s death, his estate put the Silver City up for auction. Circus Circus Enterprises acquired it for $30 million a year later. In 1991, it became the first casino on the Strip to prohibit smoking.
The Silver City closed its doors in 1999 and was demolished in 2004, making way for a shopping center anchored by a Ross Dress for Less.
Don Fertel never sought to be a casino mogul. Lured in by a friend, ensnared by mob influence, he was ultimately pressured out by Spilotro and Riddle.
“My dad was genuinely a nice guy but profoundly naive,” Bruce remarked, noting his father passed away at 90 in 2018 and was fortunate to have lived that long.
“The warnings from Spilotro were rarely benign,” he added.
“Lost Vegas” is a regular feature on Casino.org, showcasing the forgotten history of Las Vegas. Click here to explore other stories in this series. Have a remarkable Vegas story lost to time? Reach out to [email protected].