Richard Soranno is the man the Las Vegas Sun described as "one of the kings of the valley's notorious 'outcall' industry, the businesses people try to keep their young children from asking about when they see their rolling billboards, handbills or 100 pages of ads in the Las Vegas yellow pages. 'Nude dancers direct to your room!' Soranno's [S.O.C. Inc. and Hillsboro Enterprises (owned by Frank Bartello)] get a fee for setting up the private entertainment."
As of 2004, it was $275 a dance, with $235 of that going to Soranno. That added up to a gross that Soranno vaguely placed between $900,000 and $1.8 million.
The article adds that Soranno "bristles" at Metro's suspicions that his operation is a front for a call-girl ring. While allowing that his girls – and guys -- are independent contractors, he insists that they're simply private dancers, dancers for money (and any old music will do?). He also employs squadrons of "pornslappers" who peddle Soranno's wares on the Strip.
When Clark County tried to crack down on Soranno's distributors, it set off an 11-year legal battle that ended with the American Civil Liberties Union and Soranno splitting a $243,000 settlement.
While Soranno seems an unlikely victim, federal wiretaps discovered a Mob plot to drive him out of business in 1998. The muscle man hired for the task was Vincent "Vinnie Aspirin" Congiusti, whose weapon of choice was a power drill. However, as the Sun noted, G-Men "arrested Congiusti and his crew before any cranial deconstruction took place." He died the next year.
Vinnie Aspirin was part of a six-man crew, led by Christiano DeCarlo, whose business couldn't keep pace with Soranno's. DeCarlo was convinced that Soranno, with the aid of computer wiz Charles Coveney, was diverting phone calls meant for his girls. Behind DeCarlo, it was believed, lurked the Gambino crime family.
For his part, Soranno thought there was some call-rerouting going on but blamed it on crooked switchboard operators at Vegas hotels. But a scheme like the one outlined by DeCarlo could be done, according to hacker Kevin Mitnick, who electronically rampaged through Vegas' insecure phone systems for three years, ending in 1995. Mitnick claims to have been approached to execute a call-girl diversion plot for $3,000 but turned it down.
Nonetheless, Vinnie Aspirin gave Soranno a headache. As the latter told journalists, "Of course I'm scared. I'm terrified. I could go out, start my car, and get blown up like some hood." Compared to that escapade, court fights with Clark County must seem like a day at the beach for the prince of pornslappers.
