Sharing secrets and cigars with Joe Conforte

HEY NEVADA, JOE SAYS to tell you all hello.

The Joe in question is Joe Conforte, the first person to earn a license to operate a legal brothel, the bordello kingpin of Northern Nevada, a maker and breaker of political careers.

A few weeks ago, Knappster joined the very small fraternity of journalists who've traveled to Brazil to interview the colorful Conforte. A guy could spend two weeks listening to Conforte's yarns and not even scratch the surface. As I learned, Joe is not a guy who likes to be rushed when he is in full-interview mode.

Conforte is a wanted man here. A federal warrant alleging conspiracy, money laundering, bankruptcy fraud and more remains in effect even though Conforte has lived in Brazil for the last 17 years. The fact that Conforte left the country long before the federal indictment was handed down raises an issue he considers to be critical. He says it demonstrates that he is not, in fact, a fugitive. He might be a wanted man, but he certainly isn't a fugitive in the strict sense of the word.

Nor does Conforte live like a typical fugitive. He's not exactly hiding out, not exactly living out of the backseat of a dilapidated car. He owns a two-story penthouse condo atop a ritzy tower located on the beach in one of Rio De Janeiro's most exclusive neighborhoods. He's got a live-in maid, a live-in cook, a live-in house manager and a live-in girlfriend du jour. The current squeeze is an 18-year-old Brazilian beauty who doesn't speak a word of English. Darn it. One of Conforte's previous girlfriends spotted the new one as she was working on a farm somewhere out in the countryside and knew right away that Joe would like her. It wasn't a good career move on the part of the first girlfriend, since she's now gone.

Conforte says that while prostitution is essentially legal in Brazil, he's no longer in the business. From his days running the Mustang Ranch and his property investments in Brazil, the 82-year old retired businessman has all the money he will need to last the rest of this life. (It looks like he also has enough Cuban cigars to last a decade or so, thanks to a connection he made during the three months he spent as a guest of Fidel Castro, back when he was worried about being snatched up by the FBI.)

Among the many topics we discussed during three days of interviews were his feelings about archenemy state Sen. Bill Raggio, the Reno legislator who once burned Conforte's brothel to the ground back when Raggio was a crime-fighting district attorney. Conforte returned the favor by setting up Raggio in a compromising position with a teenage girl, a situation Raggio wriggled out of by secretly tape-recording a shakedown attempt. It's the kind of stuff that could make a good movie. (Conforte says all that stuff with Raggio is water under the bridge and he no longer harbors any ill will toward the state Senate's long-serving majority leader. He declined to say anything bad about Raggio, and even invited him down for a visit a few years ago.)

As it is, another movie project about Conforte is in the works, one that focuses on the love triangle involving himself, his late wife Sally and heavyweight boxer Oscar Bonavena, who was shot dead by Conforte's security men in front of the Mustang. Conforte had plenty to say about other Nevadans, including late Govs. Mike O'Callaghan and Grant Sawyer, state Sen. Floyd Lamb and Mayor Oscar Goodman. (Conforte gave Knappster a special message to deliver to Goodman whenever I run into him.)

A few years ago, Conforte offered the government $500,000 to allow for a quick return visit so he could see some family members an visit the tombs of loved ones. The feds turned him down, and now Conforte says the chances of anything like that happening are pretty much nil.

Despite all the distance, he still keeps close tabs on what goes down in Nevada, still stays in touch with old friends and former business associates, and even hints that he has slipped back into the country more than once, although he is cagey about that point. Conforte has so much dirt on so many people, politicians in particular, tales about which ones took cash and which ones were paid in blow jobs, he could still create political tsunamis here if he wanted. Conforte said he would never resort to spilling sexual secrets as an arm-twisting technique, but he wasn't shy about spilling those secrets in off-the-record conversations. Yikes!

As for Rio itself, I'd like to tell you that Knappster had a wild ride, a non-stop personal Carnaval in which thong- and-feather-wearing olive-skinned babes danced around my hotel room and dropped berries into my mouth. For the record, none of this happened, and I'm not just saying this because my boss might read it. We hit the ground running and didn't look up until it was time to leave. Note to self: It won't be like that the next time I go.

A few pointers in case you're thinking about making a trip down to see Joe. It took us 25 hours to go from door to door. There are no direct flights and every plane was packed. Plan to do a lot of drinking during the flights since you will need to numb the skull pain caused by the screaming kid in the seat ahead of yours. Traffic is a nightmare in Rio. It takes hours to get around town by taxi and the drivers have rudely chosen to speak Portuguese instead of English. People drive like maniacs. We saw cops riding around with their windows rolled down and automatic weapons poking out. Crime is pretty bad in this city of nine million people. There are slums where even police fear to tread.

And, I hate to say it, but those stories you've heard about Brazilian women being the most beautiful in the world are greatly exaggerated. They've got some lookers, that's for sure, and in general, residents there do not dress modestly. However, in my well-traveled opinion, the women in Rio do not come close to what we have here in Las Vegas. Maybe we are spoiled because we live here, but I'm telling you it's not a close call. I am happy to return to Brazil to further research this important point, but the next time I go, I'm going to save a few days for R&R and a few extra days to hear more of Joe Conforte's fascinating stories.

FAVORITE PETS

This is one of those Barbara Walters-type questions: If I were a pet, what kind of pet would I want to be? For me, the answer is easy. I would choose to be a bull terrier. I've wanted one of those odd-looking dogs since I was a kid, long before the breed was popularized in the Spuds McKenzie beer commercials. From what I have read, bull terriers are smart, independent and not at all vicious, although if they decide to bite someone, you'd need a shotgun to make them let go of your arm.

The kind of pet I would not want to be is a yap-yap dog. You know the kind. They sit in the backyard and yap, yap, yap all day long as if enamored of their own voices and convinced of their own importance when, in fact, they're a minor irritation at most. No, I would never want to be one of these whiny little bitches.

We're all someone's pet, I suppose. It just depends on what kind of pet you want to be.

George Knapp is a veteran investigative reporter for KLAS-TV Channel 8. You can reach him at gknapp@klastv.com.