Steve Wynn
Vegas Fed Wynn Kidnapping podcast coverage
News 3 Las Vegas recently took a two-part look at my podcast, Vegas Fed, about the infamous Wynn Kidnapping case.
https://vegasfed.podbean.com
I’ll let them speak for themselves.
Part One:
https://news3lv.com/news/local/video-vault-new-podcast-revisits-infamous-wynn-kidnapping
Part Two:
Vegas Fed Podcast Review
Vegas Fed podcast has received a fantastic review from best selling author Rebecca Forster. I’m flattered and very appreciative.
IGlenn Gallo turned me on to this wonderful crime podcast by Tom O’Connell. Part cop, part prosecutor, exquisite storyteller this is Vegas Crime at it’s best and Tom lived it all. #Vegas#crime#SteveWynn#kidnapping. https://www.vegasfed.com
https://rebeccaforster.com
Vegas Fed Podcast
The POP has finished his first podcast. https://www.vegasfed.com
So here are six 30 minute audio episodes about what was – arguably – the “biggest” criminal case, and trial, in Las Vegas history. The kidnapping of casino boss Steve Wynn’s daughter. He paid $1.45 million in ransom for her release.
The case was quite a challenge for a relatively new federal prosecutor – me.
However, I had the advantage of having had worked for a few years with cops in NY who were a lot tougher (and crazier) than most FBI agents. More importantly, I has been one of them myself, briefly (SCPD 3rd. Pct. Squad 12 – 1982-1984).
OK, I don’t like to brag, but in those 2 years I made about 100 arrests, got 5 commendations, was involved – sort of – in a shootout, and was sued for “brutality” by Thomas Ferry, brother of the national president of the Pagans OMG, Paul Ferry (aka “Ooch”).
The legendary Kenny Hamilton and I thereafter nicknamed Thomas “Ouch”.
The podcast is intended to be an inside look at how investigations – particularly local/fed “cooperative” endeavors – proceed.
And of course the backdrop is Las Vegas – Sin City – the Strip.
So, here is a memoir of a big time case in Las Vegas, ramrodded by the humble former 321 footman, who managed to get into all kinds of hijinks thanks to the cops he worked with – and loved – in the early 1980’s, and thereafter as an ADA.
Enjoy some Las Vegas history, and share if you think the effort worthy.
Lost Cause: Cary Sayegh, Part I
Where is Cary Sayegh?
A gap toothed little boy’s smiling face, frozen in time, confronted the reader’s of the Las Vegas Review Journal several months ago. The subject of the photograph was 6 year old Cary Daniel Sayegh. Circa 1978.
The headline, above the fold, read….”The Disappearance That Still Haunts”
The subtitle, in bold, asked, without tact “Where Is Cary’s Body?”
Where indeed.
The disappearance of a the year old boy some 40 years ago was one of the most disturbing crimes in Las Vegas history.
The players in this tragedy were quite a cast. It included future U.S. Senator Harry Reid; future Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman; Hank Greenspun, the publisher of the Las Vegas Sun; and finally, a millionaire business man and his lost 6 year old son.
At the time, the millionaire, Sol Sayegh, was under federal indictment for attempting to bribe the head of the Nevada Gaming Commission, Harry Reid. A co-defendant in the case was Jack Gordon, later to become LaToya Jackson’s husband. The federal prosecutor on the case was Lawrence Leavitt, a highly regarded Organized Crime Strike Force attorney and future federal judge.
Following the disappearance of little Cary Sayegh on October 25, 1978, a trollish-looking oddball of a man would inject himself into the case in a most bizarre manner.
Jerald Burgess would approach Sol Sayegh about his indictment and offer to “take care of” Harry Reid for him. He was summarily dismissed from the Sayegh home. Thus was apparently borne a grudge in the twisted mind of Jerald Burgess, a grudge that would have dire consequences for Sol Sayegh and his family.
Rejected, Burgess would move to Plan B, assuming the role of “intermediary” in negotiations with the “kidnapers”.
His fantastic story strained any reasonable degree of scrutiny. His torture of the Sayeghs, feeding them obviously false information about their missing son, included a shake-down. The beleaguered parents were persuaded to pay Burgess $25,000 to pay their son’s “ransom”. Burgess spent it.
Cary was never found. Burgess was charged with his kidnapping. The state prosecutor was Mel Harmon, reputedly the best in Clark County.
Burgess saw to it that the trial devolved into a circus, a circus which resulted in one of the few acquittals of Harmon’s career. What was described as the most manpower-intensive FBI investigation in Las Vegas history ended in abject failure.
The ordeal was not, however, over. Now, as Paul Harvey would say, for “the rest of the story”, replete with mistakes, blown chances and embarrassments on the part of law enforcement, and journalism which would have made Hank Greenspun cringe.
Years after the Burgess Kidnapping trial, I came to Las Vegas to prosecute federal cases. Back then, in 1990, Mel Harmon was still around, prosecuting criminals over in state court.
By 1993, I was the Senior Litigation Counsel in the Vegas U.S. Attorney’s Office. On a memorable morning in July, 15 years after Cary’s disappearance, I was assigned another explosive Las Vegas case, one which would generate another wave of headlines.
This was the kidnapping of Steve and Elaine Wynn’s daughter, Kevyn. That case resulted in the safe return of Kevyn, and the recovery of a good chunk of the criminal proceeds – $1.45 million in ransom money. The trial resulted in convictions of the main three defendants. The ringleader, Ray Cuddy received a sentence of 24 1/2 years in federal prison.
Different time, much different result.
So it was with more than a passing interest that in 1999 I assumed prosecutorial duties in the federal cold case investigation of Jerald Burgess, reopened in the hopes of recovering Cary Sayegh’s remains, and possibly develop evidence that would support a murder conviction of Jerald Burgess.
Interestingly, by this time I had read John Walsh’s book “Tears of Rage”, and seen the movie “Adam”, about the kidnapping and murder of his 6 year old son Adam, three years after Cary’s disappearance and the year Burgess was tried – 1981. The plight of this innocent 6 year old in a baseball cap, frozen in time like Carey, had reduced me to tears. And the detailing of the bungling of the case by local police and the FBI had outraged me.
Painful parallels would soon become apparent.