Until recently, Smiley had been passing himself off as an oil broker and real estate man in Houston, Texas, where he lived with his wife, a former movie starlet, in Glen McCarthy’s swank Shamrock Hotel. Smiley took up with a Texas oilman, Lenoire Josey, who liked to gamble. Smiley said he liked that, too. He knew some good places.
He and Josey went to Sam Maceo’s ornate casino, the Balinese Room, in Galveston. Then they went to the Mounds Club, in Cleveland. After that they went to the Flamingo, in Las Vegas. A trip to Phil Kastel’s (and Costello’s) beautiful Beverly, outside New Orleans, followed. When Josey counted up he had lost $500,000. Smiley “admitted to being a big loser, too.” If so, he got some back, because he owns a bit of stock in the Flamingo.
While these lines were being written, the California Crime Commission, headed by Admiral William H. Standley, Retired, castigated government aides for their ties with criminals. He said the relationship between the underworld elements and certain officials “must of necessity make it embarrassing for Federal officials to undertake prosecutions.”
A specific example was Sam Termini, described as a godson of the late Charlie Binaggio, who would have had to earn $900,000 income last year to be able to afford the cash payments made on his mansion in San Mateo County. He paid income tax on no such sum.
It cited the case of Dorothy A. McCreedy as a specific example of tieups between criminals and government officials, stating:
“The McCreedy woman is a convicted madame, a major figure in the prostitution racket in California for years and operator of two large whore-houses in Honolulu.”
She was reported to the Income Tax Bureau as a suspected evader, but “she is also a partner in a business called Safety Step Sales Co., and one of her partners is Ernest M. Schino, chief field deputy in the Office of the Collector of Internal Revenue.”
They tell a spicy story about Dorothy, whom we know well—personally, not professionally. When F. D. Roosevelt made his first trip to Hawaii, the Secret Service failed to send ahead a black open touring-car of expensive make, familiar and standard for the President on open display. Honolulu was winnowed. Only one such car was found in the Territory. It was owned by Dorothy, who used to drive her gals through town, to show them off, for promotion.
Dorothy pridefully lent the car. Everyone in Honolulu recognized it on sight, but the President didn’t know that. He flashed his historic grin, waved his hat, but couldn’t understand why the cheers were accompanied by an obbligato of guffaws.