In March 2003, Rebecca Martinez was balancing spreadsheets at her Denver accounting firm when her phone rang, shattering the quiet hum of her office. “Miss Martinez, this is Detective Frank Coleman with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department,” the voice said. “I’m calling about your brother, Sergeant David Martinez.” Rebecca’s heart sank. David, a decorated Army sergeant, had vanished in Las Vegas in 1987 during a leave from Fort Carson. The Army branded him AWOL, later desertion, when he didn’t return. For 16 years, Rebecca carried the weight of his absence, wondering if he’d abandoned his family or met a darker fate. Now, a discovery in the Sahara Casino’s ceiling tiles—a duffel bag with David’s dog tags, a bloodstained shirt, and a chilling message scratched into metal: “DM June 22, 1987. They killed me”—revealed he’d been murdered to silence his investigation into a massive money-laundering ring.
A Soldier’s Disappearance
On June 15, 1987, David Martinez, 29, arrived in Las Vegas, excited about a job offer in private security. A two-tour veteran with a Bronze Star, he told Rebecca it was a chance to “set him up for life.” He checked into a motel near the Sahara Casino, where he was to meet his contact. His last call to Rebecca on June 20 was upbeat: “This could be big, sis.” But by June 30, when he failed to return to Fort Carson, the Army reported him AWOL. Las Vegas police, led by Sergeant Donald Price, found no trace of him. His motel room held only his suitcase, and his bank account showed no activity after June 20. By 1989, the case was cold, leaving Rebecca and her parents in limbo, haunted by the Army’s desertion label.
Rebecca, then 25, pored over David’s letters, military records, and police reports, refusing to believe he’d run. “David loved the Army,” she told friends. “He’d never desert.” His leave request, approved for June 15–29, 1987, sat in a folder she kept, a reminder of her unanswered questions. The Sahara Casino, where he’d been seen, became a fixation, but no one there recalled anything unusual.
A Shocking Find Above the Slots
On March 10, 2003, Sahara Casino workers renovating the gaming floor made a grim discovery. While replacing ceiling tiles, a worker named Eduardo Lopez found an olive-green Army duffel bag wedged between beams, untouched since the casino’s 1986 construction. Inside were David’s dress uniform, dog tags, wallet with $347 and his military ID, and a bloodstained shirt. Lopez alerted security, who called Detective Frank Coleman. The bag’s contents, preserved for 16 years, suggested foul play. Coleman, a 30-year veteran with weary eyes, met Rebecca at McCarran Airport that evening. “We found evidence David was here,” he said, leading her to a conference room where the items lay on a table.
The bloodstained shirt tested positive for human blood, pending DNA analysis. But the timeline puzzled Rebecca. “The ceiling tiles were installed in 1986,” Coleman explained, “before David went missing.” Rebecca pulled out David’s leave request from her folder. “He was in Las Vegas in June 1987. Someone hid this bag after the tiles went up.” Near the discovery site, workers found scratched into the metal framework: “DM June 22, 1987. They killed me.” Coleman’s face hardened. “This is now a homicide investigation.”
A Soldier’s Secret Mission
Coleman escorted Rebecca to the gaming floor, where scaffolding marked the spot 20 feet above. The bag had been deliberately hidden, suggesting someone with casino access in 1987. A construction foreman, Miguel Torres, showed them more: a notebook in the ceiling with David’s handwriting, detailing casino operations, security blind spots, and money movements. Entries from June 16 to June 22, 1987, described surveillance of a “skimming operation” and a meeting with an “insider source.” Photographs tucked inside showed security chief Anthony Torino shaking hands with men in suits, one labeled “money skimming confirmed.” A final note read: “If something happens, check the photographs.”
Rebecca’s voice trembled. “David was investigating something big.” Coleman nodded. “He was working undercover, maybe for the FBI.” A phone number in the notebook, marked “FBI emergency contact,” led Coleman to Special Agent Patricia Wong. The next morning, at the Las Vegas FBI field office, Wong revealed David’s role in “Operation Desert Gold,” a 1987 probe into casino money laundering. “David contacted us after a suspicious job offer through military channels,” Wong said. “We asked him to document anything odd.” He was to deliver evidence on June 23 but vanished on June 22.
Unraveling a Criminal Empire
Wong’s classified file detailed a $2 million-a-month money-laundering scheme at the Sahara, involving slot machine record manipulation and false gaming receipts. Torino, who died in a 1989 car crash, and general manager Vincent Castellano, deceased in 1995, were key suspects, alongside Chicago mobster Frank Rosetti and enforcer Joey Maronei. David’s photos captured their meetings, and audio tapes, found later in the ceiling, recorded Torino saying, “The army guy knows too much. Castellano wants him gone.” Another tape caught Castellano ordering, “Make it look like he left town.”
Rebecca listened, her grief turning to fury. David had uncovered a criminal network tied to drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and racketeering. His evidence, hidden to frame him as a thief if needed, was forgotten after Torino’s death. Coleman interviewed former employees: security guard Robert Chen saw Torino and Maronei drag an unconscious David to Castellano’s office on June 22, 1987; cashier Maria Santos overheard Castellano’s threats; and assistant manager Thomas Burke admitted the trio planned David’s murder, drugging and torturing him for FBI intel before killing him in the mechanical room. His body was cremated at Anthony Russo’s facility, but his belongings were stashed as insurance.
Justice After Decades
By April 2003, Coleman and Wong built a case. Joey Maronei, now 62, was arrested in Phoenix for murder and racketeering. Anthony Russo, 68, faced conspiracy charges in Los Angeles. At Maronei’s 2004 trial, witnesses Chen, Santos, and Burke testified, backed by David’s photos, tapes, and fingerprints on his wallet. Rebecca took the stand: “David died to expose these crimes.” The jury convicted Maronei on all counts, sentencing him to life without parole. Russo’s plea deal yielded 25 years and intel on six other murders.
The investigation, dubbed the Martinez Task Force, expanded, uncovering a $200 million criminal network across 12 states. Frank Rosetti’s 2005 arrest in Tucson, after a failed border escape, revealed records implicating 47 defendants. By 2008, over 200 prosecutions recovered $1 billion in illegal proceeds, funding the Sergeant David Martinez Memorial Fund for veteran scholarships. New casino regulations followed, mandating stricter financial reporting.
A Hero’s Legacy
On March 10, 2009, Rebecca spoke at the dedication of the Sergeant David Martinez Center for Organized Crime Investigation, an FBI training facility. “David believed good people must fight crime,” she said. His evidence solved 43 murders, exposed corruption, and inspired the Martinez Protocol for analyzing cold cases. The Martinez Foundation supports victims and educates communities, ensuring David’s courage protects generations. His sacrifice, hidden in ceiling tiles, dismantled a criminal empire and proved justice knows no time limit.
