Columnist Jeff German: The 'real' Murphy not one on television

Jeff German is the Sun's senior investigative reporter. Reach him at german@ lasvegassun.com or 259-4067.

LAST WEEK, after excerpts from Sandy Murphy's tear-filled network interview were aired on a local affiliate, an anchorwoman told her television viewers they had just seen the real Murphy.

The commentary more than likely drew a laugh from prosecutors who charged the 27-year-old Murphy in the September 1998 slaying of Ted Binion.

To prosecutors, the real Murphy is the one seen on a videotape made by her own lawyer at Binion's Las Vegas home the day after his slaying. On the tape, Murphy is observed using foul language and stealing a wine glass that may have been used to force drugs down Binion's throat. She also makes it clear she intended to get her hands on the wealthy gambling figure's possessions.

Binion's family members, aware of the onetime topless dancer's volatile personality, probably shook their heads in disbelief after the television interview.

To them, the real Murphy is the one who once threatened to blow off the head of Binion's 19-year-old daughter, Bonnie, the chief heir to his fortune, or the one who left a telephone message predicting harm to Binion's sister, Becky Behnen, and her husband, Nick.

But there on television last week was Murphy the victim, a single tear trickling down her cheek, telling ABC correspondent John Miller she was distraught over losing her man. At her side was her new lawyer, John Momot, one of the more resourceful criminal defense minds in Las Vegas. Momot is credited with drumming up the media buzz over Murphy's missing panties.

To those who don't know the real Murphy, the television interview was a chance to see a softer, gentler version of the "monster" they've been reading about all these months. It's the version Momot and the rest of Murphy's handlers intend to present to the public, as they prepare for her March 13 trial.

Last week, though some might be wise to this tactic, Team Murphy seemed to have success in its first attempt to showcase Murphy's metamorphosis.

While the young woman, dressed in a conservative black pants suit, was crying on Miller's shoulders on Channel 13, Momot appeared on the evening newscast of Las Vegas 1, a local cable channel, to describe his client as a "sweet person" who doesn't deserve all of this negative publicity.

He probably was believable to many, but not necessarily to Binion's friends who had to be thinking that the casino man, faults and all, didn't deserve to die, either.

At the same time, while co-defendant Rick Tabish was sitting in the slammer, Murphy charmed her way into the heart of a local radio DJ who became a cheerleader over the airwaves for Miss Sweetness.

By week's end, the long-awaited piece on Murphy and Tabish in Gentlemen's Quarterly magazine hit the newsstands. Writer Stephen Rodrick gave readers across the country an insider's look at the accused killers who once more insisted they didn't kill Binion and were not romantically involved.

Even Murphy's civil lawyer and onetime housemate, William Knudson, went on the offensive, attacking prosecutors and the media at a news conference for unfairly "vilifying" him over his role in the murder case.

It was an extraordinary week indeed. And there was no reason to believe the defense spin would let up in the future.

Proclaiming one's innocence in a high-profile murder case certainly isn't unusual. Remember O.J. Simpson? He was charged in a similar circumstantial case and was acquitted. Simpson turned out to have some of the best spinmeisters ever on his defense team.

Then there's poor Tabish, alone and behind bars while his significant other in Las Vegas is running around wooing the media. The best Tabish can hope for is that his reputed underworld friends are able to keep Hollywood interested in his plight. But even then, now that the wise guys seem to have a piece of him, striking it rich over a Binion movie is unlikely.

In the meantime, the prosecution continues to pursue new leads that could tie Murphy and Tabish further to the 55-year-old Binion's slaying.

There's a guy named David Mattsen, charged with Murphy and Tabish in the theft of Binion's buried silver in Pahrump, who some say may be close to dealing with prosecutors to avoid a stiff prison term.

Prosecutors believe the Murphy that Mattsen knows isn't the same Murphy the local anchorwoman saw during last week's ABC interview.

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