You’re certainly conversant with the facts of the case. We had to look them up.
The American Coin case forms the lead chapter of Jeff Burbank’s book License to Steal, still the leading reference work on casino regulation in Nevada. It begins: "At 7:50 p.m. on October 1, 1990, Larry Volk, a 49-year-old former computer programmer for the American Coin Company, was working on his car in the covered carport of his modest mobile home at 5514 Petaca Road in northeastern Las Vegas. A bullet from a gun fired from behind a wooden fence in Volk’s backyard slammed into the top of his head and exited through the rear of his skull."
Volk expired before paramedics could reach the scene. He was the prototypical "man who knew too much."
At the behest of American Coin’s owners, he "gaffed" the computer chips on 500 or more of the company’s video poker and video keno machines. "The programs [inserted by Volk] prevented the award of some jackpots when players bet the maximum number of coins in the machine," Burbank writes.
The chip gaffing "resulted in $17 million in fraud," according to the Las Vegas Review-Journal and ran undiscovered from 1986 until 1989. The Nevada Gaming Control Board was already running a sting on American Coin for illegal interstate slot machine sales when the gaffed chips were brought to its attention in June 1989. Chips were pulled from American Coin machines in a half-dozen Las Vegas bars and regulators discovered that they didn’t match the "master" chips on file with the state. However, they probably could not have definitely nailed American Coin, but Volk rolled on his employers, Rudolph LaVecchia and his son Rudy.
Within a month of the discovery, American Coin was out of business. The following February, the LaVecchias and partner Frank Romano surrendered their gaming licenses and consented to a $1 million fine. By this point, Volk was complaining of death threats. An attempted bombing of his mobile home failed. (Volk and his wife were in Hawaii at the time.) The fatal shooting followed two weeks later.
It wasn’t difficult for Las Vegas Metro to find Volk’s killer, as they’d had two run-ins with him in the days leading up to the shooting. On Sept. 26, ex-felons David Lemons and Vito Bruno (a k a John Sipes) had been spotted casing Volk’s residence on two separate occasions. During the second encounter, police found an unregistered handgun in their car and arrested both men on weapons charges. On the eve of Volk’s murder, Lemons was back in the area again and received no fewer than three traffic citations; his motorcycle was unregistered.
Arraigned on Sept. 9, 1992, Lemons was able to beat the rap at his subsequent trial. The case against him was circumstantial and defense attorney Anthony Sgro successfully cast suspicion on other possible suspects.
Lemons wasn’t free of the law’s clutches for long, though. A few weeks later, the three-time loser was busted for burglary. This time he was convicted and was doing a long stretch in the Nevada state prison in Jean when, in 1997, he experienced a jailhouse conversion and contacted authorities. He confessed to killing Volk and fingered both Bruno and the latter’s aunt, LaVecchia family friend Soni Beckman, as accomplices. Lemons had mowed Beckman’s lawn and he alleged that she and Bruno also discussed bumping off former American Coin co-owner Romano.
Beckman was arrested in Helendale, Calif., in November 1997, while Bruno was nabbed a week later in Phoenix. If he was looking forward to a jail-cell reunion with his aunt, Bruno was disappointed. She was released on bail, which he was denied. Mel Harmon, who’d unsuccessfully tried Lemons, came out of retirement to prosecute Beckman and Bruno, co-chairing the case with current Clark County District Attorney David Roger.
On Sept. 23, 1999 –- eight days shy of the ninth anniversary of Larry Volk’s murder –- Beckman pleaded guilt to one count of conspiracy, while her nephew pleaded to conspiracy and solicitation to commit murder. Beckman, who’d been able afford a private attorney, asked for and received probation plus a $5,000 fine. Bruno, who was represented by a public defender, got concurrent sentences of 10 and six years.
"I can’t imagine that he’s still in custody," says Chief Deputy District Attorney Eric Jorgenson, who represented the county at sentencing. Neither Bruno nor Beckman was compelled to testify against other potential co-conspirators, which Jorgenson says is standard procedure: "So seldom in a plea agreement do you require then that they testify. … Under Nevada it is difficult to use accomplice testimony" with corroborating evidence.
On unnamed Metro detective, in interview with ZDNet US, published Nov. 11, 1999, described the case as "a frustrating situation. We thought the LaVecchias were involved, but we could never build a case against them." Evidence linking them to the crime amounted to little more than some blank checks, signed by Mrs. LaVecchia, found in Beckman’s home on Nov. 17, 1990, and a fax transmission from the Beckman home to a LaVecchia-registered number in Hawaii on the night of the murder.
"My guess is they weren’t indicted because there wasn’t enough evidence," surmises Jorgenson. "I don’t think it was ever contemplated. You’ve got to have a case … To my knowledge, there was never any evidence that we could have used to charge the LaVecchias." Attempts to contact Rudolph LaVecchia and Soni Beckman’s lawyers were unsuccessful.
That wasn’t the end of their troubles with the state, though. Rudolph and Rudy had never gotten around to the small matter of paying their fine to the Gaming Control Board. On Jan. 15, 2001, then-District Court Judge Nancy Saitta (who now sits on the Nevada Supreme Court), handed down a $1.24 million judgment against the twosome.
