The Versace Murder: Miami’s Most Visible Homicide

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The shooting of famed fashion designer and “King of South Beach” Gianni Versace is perhaps the most visible and memorable homicide in Miami Beach history. And while it involved a cast of characters from Italy to San Diego, Minneapolis to Hamburg, the case and its associated players cannot escape the air of the bizarre and suspicious that any crime committed south of the Georgia border seems to embody. Had Versace been shot in New York or Milan or Los Angeles, it probably would have been your run-of-the-mill celebrity shooting. But since it happened in Miami, well, nobody involved seems altogether reputable.

On the morning of July 15, 1997, Gianni Versace stepped out of his Casa Casuarina mansion on Ocean Drive for his usual routine: a short walk to the News Café to buy an Italian newspaper. He never made it back inside. A man approached him on the steps, raised a Taurus .40-caliber pistol, and shot him twice in the face at point-blank range. Versace collapsed instantly, dead before he hit the ground. The killer walked away calmly, disappearing into the South Beach crowd.

Within hours, police identified the shooter as Andrew Cunanan—one of the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted. But the real question wasn’t who pulled the trigger. It was why. And in true Miami fashion, the answer turned out to be equal parts tragic, sordid, and inexplicable.

Prep-School Boy Turned Gay Socialite

Andrew Cunanan grew up in San Diego, the son of a Filipino-American stockbroker and a chronically depressed mother. He attended elite private schools, where he was openly flamboyant about his sexuality—bragging about encounters with older men and earning a reputation as the ultimate party boy. At UC Berkeley, he dove headfirst into San Francisco’s gay scene, attaching himself to wealthy, older lovers who funded his lifestyle. He never finished college. Instead, he drifted into a world of drugs, lies, and manipulation.

By his mid-20s, Cunanan’s looks were fading, his money was drying up, and his depression was deepening. He returned to San Diego, gained weight, and began dealing drugs to support himself. In April 1997, he drove to Minneapolis to confront two former lovers: architect David Madson and Naval officer Jeff Trail. What happened next is unclear, but Trail was found bludgeoned to death with a hammer in Madson’s apartment. Madson’s body turned up days later—shot three times—dumped 45 miles away in a rural field. Cunanan had gone from social climber to serial killer overnight.

He then headed to Chicago, where he tortured and murdered real-estate developer Lee Miglin in his own home—beating him, stabbing him with garden shears, and running over his body with Miglin’s Lexus. He stole the car and drove east. In New Jersey, he murdered cemetery caretaker William Reese for his red pickup truck. By late spring, Cunanan was on the FBI’s radar, but he slipped south to Miami Beach—hiding in plain sight at the Normandy Plaza hotel on 69th and Collins.

Another Quality Individual Descends On Miami Beach

Cunanan checked into the Normandy under his real name. He pawned gold coins stolen from Miglin to pay the $37-a-night room rate—filling out the pawn ticket with his thumbprint and actual address. He even ventured out to gay bars on South Beach, where he was recognized by multiple people but never reported. Tips flooded in after “America’s Most Wanted” aired, but Miami Beach police moved slowly. One caller claimed to have seen Cunanan at a Miami Subs on 71st Street. Another said he was at a Palm Beach courthouse. Nobody connected the dots fast enough.

On July 15, Versace returned from the News Café. Cunanan walked up, fired twice, and vanished. Witnesses saw him flee on foot. Police quickly found his red pickup in a nearby garage—parked there for two months without anyone noticing. Inside the Normandy Plaza room, they discovered the gun used in the shooting. Cunanan had checked out days earlier.

There’s A Man On This Boat And He Might Have Shot Me

Eight days later, 71-year-old houseboat caretaker Fernando Carreira heard what he thought were gunshots on a nearby vessel owned by German businessman Torsten Reineck (also known in Las Vegas as “Doc Ruehl,” a figure tied to gay bathhouses and forged documents). Carreira called 911—three times unsuccessfully—then had his son call. Police surrounded the houseboat on 52nd and Collins. After hours of negotiation, they stormed the vessel.

At first they reported nothing. Early editions of the Miami Herald ran “Search Comes Up Empty.” Then came the correction: Cunanan was inside, dead from a self-inflicted gunshot to the head. His suicide ended the manhunt—and left the motive forever unclear.

The Enduring Mystery of Versace

Cunanan and Versace moved in overlapping circles—wealthy gay men, fashion, nightlife. Some claimed they’d met casually. Others speculated a personal grudge. Most likely, it was random: Cunanan, spiraling and desperate for attention, chose the most famous face he could find. His suicide ensured he’d remain a mystery.

Carreira eventually collected $55,000 in reward money from the FBI and other groups (after threatening to sue). Miami Beach and Metro-Dade initially balked, questioning whether he truly “led” them to Cunanan. The City of New York simply refused to pay. Carreira later got an endorsement deal from a pistol-holster company. Only in Miami.

Versace’s murder remains one of South Beach’s darkest days. It shattered the illusion of safety in paradise and reminded the world that even in the most glamorous zip codes, danger never really leaves. Cunanan’s spree ended here—but the questions never did.

Editor’s Note: Originally published July 19, 2007. Updated in 2026 with new photography; Matt Meltzer’s original writing remains unchanged.

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