By
Harriet Ryan
Court TV
LAS VEGAS Telling Sandy Murphy to wake up from her "Alice in Wonderland dreamlike state" and admit her crime, a judge sentenced the former stripper and her lover Rick Tabish to life in prison for the murder of casino owner Ted Binion.
"Many lives have been ruined and you have ruined them," Judge Joseph A. Bonaventure told the pair Friday afternoon.
The judge opted to tack additional prison time onto the 20-years-to-life sentence
a jury handed down in May. Under Bonaventure's decision, Murphy will first be
eligible for parole in 22 years, and Tabish, who faced four additional charges,
will be eligible in 25 years.
During the two-hour proceeding, Murphy and Tabish each spoke repeatedly of their innocence. Murphy, 28, sobbed as she addressed the court and Tabish, 35, appeared teary as he spoke about his children, but both were stonefaced when Bonaventure read his decision.
The judge had tough words for both defendants, calling them betrayers who killed a man who loved and trusted them. He had especially strong words for Murphy.
"Through your greed and betrayal you plotted an elaborate scheme to kill Mr. Binion and steal his money, as well as swap him for a younger boyfriend. You presented yourself as a caring and loving girlfriend only to lure your victim into a trap which ultimately cost him his life," Bonaventure told her.
Binion, 55, the millionaire scion of a Las Vegas gaming family, was found dead Sept. 17, 1998. Police initially suspected he had overdosed on heroin, but suspicion soon turned to Murphy, his live-in girlfriend, and her lover, smalltime Montana businessman Tabish. At the duo's trial this spring, prosecutors successfully argued that Tabish and Murphy had poisoned and suffocated Binion in a bid to steal his $50 million estate and extricate Murphy from an increasingly unhappy relationship.
The sentencing was as dramatic as the rest of the case. Binion's teenage daughter, Bonnie, sat in the front row of the court glowering at her father's killers. Murphy's father, Kenneth, was escorted from the courtroom early on in the sentencing when he stood up and began shouting at the prosecutors.
The most emotional moments came during a long, rambling speech by Murphy who chose to remain seated at the defense table as she spoke. Weeping as she talked, she rejected the state's characterization of her as a gold digger. She told Bonaventure that Binion drove a beat-up pick-up truck and wore dirty clothes when she first met him and they had dated for several months before she ever visited his palatial home.
"I'd never been to his home, didn't know who he was, and had certainly never been to the Horseshoe," she said referring to the family casino in downtown Las Vegas.
Murphy described their home life as idyllic before Binion developed a heroin addiction and claimed again and again that she loved him and he was devoted to her.
"I don't want to ask the court for anything because I didn't do anything and I don't even think I should be here," she concluded.
Prosecutor David Wall said Murphy was an enigma to him. He pointed to her pattern of odd behavior in court, reminding the judge how she frequently giggled during court and had once spray-painted her house-arrest surveillance anklet to match her outfit. Even during the sentencing, Bonaventure had to reprimand her for whispering loudly while the state addressed the court.
"I must confess, I don't understand her at all," said Wall. "I don't have a clue about Sandy Murphy. Is she the conniving gold digger...or is she also this petulant child we see over and over throughout this trial."
In either case, Wall said, Murphy behaved "like this whole world exists to serve her." The prosecutor added, "I'm not convinced she has learned anything through any of this."
Murphy's lawyer, John Momot, tried to explain his client's demeanor, telling Bonaventure that she was a young girl unfamiliar with the legal system and unsure of how to act. But the judge seemed unmoved.
He told Murphy, "Your attitude reflects that of one who shows little respect for these proceedings and of this system of law."
Perhaps prison would snap her from the "Alice in Wonderland dream-like state," the judge said.
The state hammered away at the morality of both Tabish and Murphy, saying the two were reprehensible even among murderers.
"This crime is different than most, these defendants are different than most," said prosecutor David Roger. He contrasted Murphy and Tabish with other criminals who were victims of child abuse, broken homes, drug addictions and "who just didn't have hope in life."
Both defendants, the state argued, grew up in loving homes with supportive parents and had every opportunity to succeed in life.
"These are two educated, healthy individuals plotting murder," Roger told the judge.
Wall, continued in the same vein, saying of Murphy, "The apple couldn't of fallen farther from the tree."
Roger and Wall heaped so much praise on the defendants' families, in fact, that Tabish admitted of Roger, "He basically said everything I wanted to say."
Tabish's attorney, William Terry, asked the judge to focus on the "human element" which he said was often forgotten during sentencing. He displayed pictures of Tabish's children, aged 3 and 5, and urged the judge to consider the enormous loss they would be suffering with the jury's 20-year sentence alone. No Christmases with their father, no Trick-or-Treating, Terry reminded the judge.
"Is it asking so much for a defendant to appeal to you to say 20 years is enough," Terry said.
Tabish addressed the court and like Murphy, spent most of his time defending himself against accusations by the state. Roger condemned Tabish for portraying himself as a victim instead of taking responsibility for his own wrongdoing and said it was a pattern in Tabish's life.
Tabish shrugged off Roger's criticism, saying he knew his actions had caused many people pain. While maintaining his innocence, he expressed sympathy for Bonnie Binion, saying that as much as he would miss seeing his own small boy and girl, at least he could talk to them on the telephone, something she could never do again with her father.
Defense attorneys have 30 days to file a notice of appeal, and both Terry and Momot said they planned to do so. On Friday, however, Bonaventure, who shepherded the case for the past year, had the last say.
"Justice has been served. This case is closed," the judge said.
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