Angelo DeAngelo was a small time hood in the 1960’s in Las Vegas. I never got to know him personally, but I did get to know his wife, the black widow. Black widow is what I named her because of the way I first met her.
In 1990, I was the director of convention services at the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas. One day Alex Ventura was snooping around several of my empty ball rooms. I asked him what he was doing and he replied with, ” I am here scouting your hotel to see if you are equipped to handle the Miss Universe Pageant in May 1991.”
I asked, “What exactly are you needing?”
Alex explained the total agenda and added that our 5,000 seat Theater for the Performing Arts would be perfect for the final show to be hosted by none other than Dick Clark. He went on to say he would need a dance floor to accommodate 2,000.
I answered, “Well you have run upon the right man. I am the director of convention services. We need to sit down and discuss this with our hotel management crew, but from where I stand, we can handle everything except for the dance floor and you can hold that at the Las Vegas Convention center. Let me set it up. How about us getting together in three days from today here in our boardroom, say around 2PM?”
He took a quick look at his calendar and said yes and left me with his card. I asked where he was staying. He said, ” The Stardust.”
“Oh no I said.” That just will not do. Let me have your things brought over here and we’ll put you up in one of the suites at no charge.”
After our meeting and all the contracts were signed, I had to get together with all of the department managers. We were going to house everyone involved with the show. There were 452 people who would be here with their entourages spending close to $3 million .
The Theater for The Performing Arts or TPA, as we referred to it, was in pretty bad shape. The roof leaked like a sieve. It was my responsibility to check it out, and to make matters worse it had begun to rain cats and dogs.
When I got inside, the first thing I noticed was a wall of water pouring onto the stage floor and running into the orchestra pit. Strangely enough it was disappearing though.
I climbed up through the maze of catwalks to the fifth story landing so I could better see the spot where the rain was coming in.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I felt someone watching me. I flashed my light over all the area that I could see and down onto the floor. I hollered out, “Hey, who’s down there?” “Is anybody here?” Silence…
I do not fear anything of this earth, but at that moment, I felt pee trickling down my right leg.
When no one answered, I scampered down the stairs and when safely on the stage with all the lights on. My courage came back but that damn eerie feeling was still gnawing at my gut. There had been lots of reports of the lady in black, but no one ever actually saw her… Until now.
Looking out into the audience, about 12 rows back next to the isle, I saw her. Perhaps I saw her. No, I really saw her.
“Hey there how ya doing? I asked. Why don’t you come down here and have a visit with me. I won’t hurt you.” I thought to myself what the hell you doing you dumb shit? I looked out again and she was gone.
Whew, I felt a huge sigh of relief until I stood face to face with her…
I cannot tell you how long I stood there looking at her. She never looked up for the longest time, she just looked down at the floor. Finally, she looked up and asked, “Why are you being so kind to me? Don’t you know I am dead?”
I stuttered, “Welll, I a-a-a, I mean to say, yyyou, are dead you say?”
Her only reply was, “Yes.”
It was then that I looked into her face. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life and as luck would have it, she was a dadgum ghost. A slight smile edged out of the corner of her mouth as she bade me to come sit beside her.
My mind went wild with a plethora of questions of wonderment. We sat on an old bench out of the rain and just out of the light. It was hard to see her, but her sweet voice danced through my entire being. I felt as giddy as a school boy.
“My name is, or was Mary Elena DeAngelo. I was the headliner at the Stardust in 1965. My husband, Angelo, was such a jealous fool. Every man I spoke to sent him into a rage. He didn’t dare hit me though because my body guard was Aces Keller, a friend of John Gotti, the Don.
One night after my last number, Aces came back stage to talk to me and bring me some coffee. There was one thing we both dearly loved and It was hot, black, coffee. He was about to hand it to me when I put my arms around his waist and kissed him on the cheek. I told him I loved him because he took such good care of me and made me feel so safe from Angelo. Aces put the coffee down, took me into his arms and kissed me full on the mouth like I had never been kissed before. I melted there in his arms. He picked me up and carried me over to my daybed set up so I could rest in between shows. Then he laid me on the bed as I began to pull off my robe.
Putting his arms out said, ‘No baby, you can’t do this. I love you too, but I could get killed for even thinking about what I want to do to you.’
I said, ‘Aces, go lock the door, I am on fire with desire and I want you. Angelo always takes me, but I never give myself to him. Do you understand, I love you, and want to make love to you.’
With that, Aces locked the door and took off his pants. His manhood stood ready and my loins were so wet with desire and lust, I never heard the door open. There we stood naked as jay birds and Angelo there with his gun. Aces whirled around just in time to catch a bullet in the chest. As it passed through him, it barely missed me. Twice more he shot Aces. His face was twisted like the monster I knew he was, and his eyes were a crazy red.
‘Get your clothes on you stupid bitch. We’re going for a ride,’ He said.
I got to my feet and pulled on a silk kimono and side stepped Aces crumpled body that now lay bleeding on the floor. Out of the back door he dragged me. He said if I screamed he’d kill me too. We got into his new 1966 Caddy. He made me drive. I asked him here we were going and he said to drive down railroad avenue to Flamingo and turn left.
I tell you I was so scared, I could not think, but he told me if I didn’t do exactly what he said, he would kill me and then my mother and sister.
I turned left onto Flamingo and crossed over the strip. He said to turn in behind the Aladdin and pull up behind the new theater. All that was there at the time was the footings for the foundation. He made me get out of the car and kneel down in the frame work of the foundation. It was then that he shot me in the head. He covered me with dirt and the next day the cement crews poured the cement, covering me in tons of the cold stuff, and there my body lies to this day.”
Didn’t anyone hear the gun shot? What about DeAngelo? Whatever happened to him? I have never heard of him and I have been here since 1977.
She looked at me for the longest time and thanked me for listening. I said, “But what about DeAngelo and Aces?”
She replied, “When Mr. Gotti found Aces dead, he had Angelo picked up, and now he lies in about seven pieces scattered across the western desert. As for Aces, well, they buried him real proper like, but he still comes by from time to time to see me. In fact, here he is now.
Since I was able to tell someone my story, it’s time for me to move on.”
There suddenly appeared a bright light on the other side of the stage. Just before they entered into it she turned, blew me a kiss, and disappeared. That was on the 12th of March and on May 1st I quit and went back to California eighteen days before the Miss Universe Pageant.
As I watched it on TV, I felt pride in the fact that it took place. I swear for the shortest moment I saw her there on stage left holding a dozen roses, and wearing a white gown.