Authors: Heather Lowell
“And you would be…?” Peebles inquired.
The dark-haired man who had tried to speak earlier stood up. “Allow me to introduce Carmen Ramirez, District Attorney for Los Angeles County.”
Peebles turned an unattractive shade of brick red. The color in his face was so deep it made his eyebrows look pure white against his forehead. “Pleasure.”
Carmen smiled her cat smile. “Likewise. I’ve got a tight schedule today, so I was wondering if I could impose and have our little discussion bumped to the top of your lovely, organized agenda.” She waved the document in question. “Then we can get out of your hair and leave you to work at the ant’s ass level of detail. I’m really only interested in the satellite view, if you get my drift.”
“Certainly.” Peebles cleared his throat, several times. Then he turned the meeting over to Carmen. She indicated that Tessa should take the lead. Luke shoved his hands deep in his pocket and grinned.
Tessa stood and took refuge at the whiteboard. “You may not be aware, but the district attorney has been pursuing rape allegations made against a high-profile athlete by a girl who subsequently disappeared. The athlete in question is a regular at Club Red, and we’ve been given reason to believe that those who run the establishment are involved with the sexual assault and a number of other crimes. I was unaware, until recently, that this investigation had crossed paths with the case your task force has been preparing against Club Red.”
“For over a year,” Peebles pointed out. “And there’s no compelling reason so far for why we should jeopardize our investment of time and man-hours to help you make a state case against some of the same players.”
“Bear with me for a moment, Agent Peebles. I think you’ll
find our information very helpful. It seems we’ve been going at the same case from different angles. While our goals are, of course, different, I think we would be wise to assist each other.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, Ms. Jacobi. But why should we give a piece of our investigation to you and your colleagues,” Peebles said, with a glance at Luke.
“You’d be pretty foolish not to,” Tessa said. “We have information that is critical to your organized crime and racketeering investigation, but I’m not interested in RICO violations. My main concern is getting Kelly Maarten away from Club Red and shutting its operations down. My goal is to press state charges against the individuals who kidnapped, manipulated, raped, and prostituted a fifteen-year-old runaway.”
“It’s my understanding you don’t have enough evidence to press the sexual assault charges, let alone any others,” Rabani said, though his manner was almost apologetic.
“Only because the suspects threatened and bullied the primary witness before finally making her disappear. But we know all of the individuals involved are connected to Club Red. In the course of our own investigation, we have come across incriminating evidence that relates directly to your task force,” Tessa said.
“And you want to bargain with this?” Rabani asked.
“Yes,” Tessa said simply. “I’ll need the US Attorney’s Office to allow for plea bargains and sentence reductions on the federal charges for defendants Aiken and Kravitz. In exchange for these reduced federal prison times, we expect these defendants to plead guilty on all state charges related to Kelly Maarten.”
“That’s impossible,” Peebles said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The federal charges are more serious, and traditionally these take precedence over parochial interests like those you are discussing. We hold all the cards, so why should we give out any sentence reductions or plea bargains?”
“Because you’d be able to build a case against everyone
else you’re interested in—and you can have them all, except for the individuals I’ve named,” Tessa said. “This includes several members of the Ianelli crime family. In exchange, I want leverage to force guilty pleas out of the individuals responsible for kidnapping and prostituting a minor.”
Rabani cleared his throat again. Tessa was starting to figure out that’s what he did when he was sure people weren’t going to like what he had to say. “I understand you had some recent difficulties, Ms. Jacobi.” He gestured vaguely at her broken wrist. “Surely you wish to press additional charges related to these happenings?”
“Yes, but I can’t. I’m a witness as well as a victim, and as you know that unfortunately means I can’t be involved in prosecuting the death of my good friend,” Tessa said.
“No, there would certainly be a conflict of interest if you didn’t recuse yourself and your office from the prosecution,” Rabani said. “You couldn’t be a witness, plaintiff, and prosecutor all at once.”
“True, but the US Attorney’s Office would have had jurisdiction anyway, as we believe the incident in question was a contract killing, and I was the intended target.”
Rabani’s dark eyebrows shot up, and a speculative gleam entered his eyes.
Tessa knew she had him. “Think about it—you’d be getting a murder-for-hire case involving the death of a cop. The prosecution would require very little legwork on your part.”
“So the US Attorney is free to pursue the murder of Detective Flynn, outside of any deals we are making here today,” Rabani mused.
“Yes. I’ll give you all the evidence we have to date relating to this incident. It should be an open-and-shut prosecution,” Tessa said. “I’d expect your boss to allow for no plea bargains, though. I want the death penalty for the killer. And for Ricky Hedges, as we have proof beyond a reasonable doubt that he planned and paid for the hit against me that went wrong.”
She waited for a response, but there was silence in the room. Rabani was no doubt contemplating being handed a high-profile case without having to give up much in return.
“Both the Flynn murder and the Club Red investigation and prosecution would be a huge PR opportunity for this task force and all of your organizations,” Carmen finally said.
“Maybe, but we could achieve that ourselves, without Ms. Jacobi and her information. It might take a little longer, probably a year or so. But we wouldn’t have to negotiate on charges or share credit with latecomers,” Peebles said bluntly.
“Are you high?” Luke asked in disbelief. “Maybe you’re just stupid.”
Ignoring the titters in the room, Tessa hurriedly spoke. “I’m not talking about accelerating your investigation by a few months, I’m talking about handing you the entire thing on a silver platter. Do you get it? I’m going to give you a case, complete with witnesses, that could go to the grand jury tomorrow.”
“That would be for me to decide. So far your father has thrown his weight around to get you in here, and your boss came along to back you up. But while we’ve heard a lot of talk, we have yet to see a single compelling piece of evidence,” Peebles said as he sat back in his chair. “You want a deal, you’re going to have to prove you’ve got the goods.”
Downtown Los Angeles
Wednesday morning, March 17
T
essa reined in the urge to throttle Special Agent Peebles of the FBI. Instead, she nodded to Luke to indicate that she was ready for the witnesses to be brought to the room.
“I think you’ll find the guest speakers who are about to come in will more than satisfy the burden of proof,” Tessa said.
There was silence in the room as the back door opened and eight different people shuffled in to stand along one of the walls, including all of Tessa’s witnesses and their legal counsel. Ronnie and Chantal brought up the rear of the group, and Tessa wished she’d had a camera to capture the expression on Dieter Peebles’s face when he saw the forensic accountant he’d essentially fired from his team months earlier.
Chantal, who was dressed in a show-stopping burnt orange suit with matching Jimmy Choo mules, waved cheerfully at Peebles when she saw him.
Smothering a grin, Tessa turned around to write the names of her witnesses on the whiteboard. Then she addressed
the curious members of the task force. “If you wouldn’t mind holding any questions until the end, I’d appreciate it. I don’t want to have to repeat any information and waste your valuable time.”
Rabani exchanged a look with Carmen, then sat back to watch the show. He knew it was going to be good by the expression on the D.A.’s face—anticipation and pride mixed together.
“Our first witness is Sledge Beauregard Aiken, quarterback for the LA Waves professional football team,” Tessa began. “He faces state charges of statutory rape and unlawful sexual contact with a minor, as per section 261.5 of the California Penal Codes. In addition, he’s looking at charges of providing an intoxicating agent to a minor, solicitation, intimidating a witness, and making false statements to the police.”
She paused and looked over at Peebles, who shrugged.
“On the federal level, you’re going to want to talk to him about racketeering and illegal campaign contributions to local politicians. Also he’s confessed to being involved with influence peddling, lobbying to alter zoning laws to unfairly benefit Club Red, and real estate fraud.”
Rabani cleared his throat. “I had hoped for something more substantial.”
“You’ve got it,” Tessa said. “For his finale, Mr. Aiken is ready to talk about acting as a secret intermediary in activities involving Ricky Hedges, the Ianelli crime Family, and several local politicians. He’s also involved in a whole host of other RICO violations,” Tessa said, citing the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization laws used to prosecute organized crime. “Finally, he will testify to what he knows about the money laundering operations at Club Red, which will corroborate the statements of our other witnesses.”
Rabani’s eyes glazed over as he began to realize the magnitude of the case he could build. Even Peebles had
come to attention in his chair, and his assistant was taking notes furiously.
“You get all this,” Tessa continued, “in exchange for letting the state of California have first crack at Mr. Aiken. Once he’s been sentenced on the state charges, you’re free to use him as a witness in exchange for a plea bargain on federal charges. But he does the full eight to ten years for what he did to Kelly Maarten—nonnegotiable. He understands that this is a fantastic deal, considering that he was looking at decades in federal prison on the RICO violations alone.”
Sledge said nothing, just looked at the ground with his jaw clenched. The new lawyer he’d been forced to acquire after Carl Abrahms had dropped him had spent the last two days telling him what a generous deal he’d been offered by the D.A.—all he had to do was plead guilty to charges that would see him living as a registered sex offender for the rest of his life.
His lawyer had pointed out that he could always move overseas once his prison term was over. Sledge had refrained, just barely, from knocking the guy’s teeth down his throat.
Tessa put a check mark next to Sledge’s name on the whiteboard and moved on. “Next we have Jerrold Mihaly Kravitz, who has served as a manager of Club Red for just over a year. Mr. Kravitz is facing state charges including statutory rape and sexual contact with a minor, pimping and prostitution, unlawful imprisonment, battery, kidnapping, witness tampering, and conspiracy to kidnap a minor child in Kansas.”
Tessa indicated to Luke that he should explain the other charges Jerry was facing. Luke didn’t move from his position against the wall. “Mr. Kravitz is a known associate of the Ianellis, and this long-standing relationship predates his involvement with Club Red. We believe he served as an intermediary to deepen the relationship between Ricky Hedges and the Ianelli crime Family.”
“What evidence do you have against him?” Peebles asked.
“We have enough to make federal charges, including gambling, narcotics distribution, running a multistate prostitution ring, racketeering, and a number of tax-reporting discrepancies. He’s confessed to structuring deposits in violation of the Bank Secrecy Act, as well as smuggling currency and helping run an elaborate money laundering operation,” Tessa said.
Chantal spoke up. “Mr. Kravitz is also willing to help the task force track the illegally deposited profits from Club Red, as well as identify the various shell corporations Ricky Hedges used to hide the money. He’s been assisting me to that end for the last day, and his information has been useful. More importantly, it corroborates the details given to me by Tristan Rothschild.”
“Rothschild?” Peebles asked. “I don’t know anyone in the organization with that name or alias.”
“That’s because you haven’t penetrated the organization very deeply,” Luke said. “Mr. Rothschild was presented to Ricky Hedges almost a year ago by the Ianellis. His objective was to diversify the financial operations of Club Red and set up a variety of schemes that would be capable of placing and laundering millions of dollars in illegal funds.”
“That’s millions with a capital ‘M,’ ” Chantal pointed out. “So far, I’ve turned up over thirteen million in illegal but laundered funds. And Mr. Rothschild tells me Ricky Hedges is planning a big placement of funds in the next few weeks.”
“How much money are we talking about overall,” Rabani asked.
They all looked at Rothschild, a slender man of medium build with thinning gray hair and pale blue eyes. The accountant removed his horn-rimmed glasses and began to polish them with a cloth he pulled out of his blazer pocket.
Luke nudged the guy, who spoke as if the words were painful. “Ricky Hedges is a hoarder. He has been sitting on the profits from his business and real estate operations for over three years. I estimate, from statements he’s made and
my review of the books, that he’s got around eighteen million dollars in cash to be placed.”
“My God! That would be one of the largest seizures in Bureau history,” Peebles said.
“Amen,” Rabani echoed. “Why on earth is he sitting on that much money?”
“Because he’s a fool,” Rothschild said. “He’s afraid of losing control, and, frankly, he doesn’t have the technical abilities to launder that amount of money. That’s where I come in.”
“In exchange for his testimony,” Tessa said, “Mr. Rothschild expects to avoid any type of stay in the federal prison system. He’d also like to enter the witness protection program, because of his association with the Ianellis.”
“I’d like to move to the Caribbean,” Rothschild added. “Someplace where my financial acumen can be appreciated.”
“That’s it,” Tessa said. “These are the witnesses that I can turn over to you.”
Carmen leaned forward and met Peebles’s gaze. “I’m giving my full endorsement to the plea bargains and back-scratch deals that my prosecutor is proposing. Ms. Francoeur, whose help has been instrumental in the financial aspects of the investigation, will stay behind with Mr. Rothschild and your team to lead you through the maze of shell corporations and money laundering schemes that Ricky Hedges set up. She’ll do this on our nickel.”
“Who is she?” Peebles asked, indicating Ronnie. “One of the girls involved with Club Red?”
Tessa coughed while Ronnie laughed out loud. “I’d like to present Officer Veronica Harris from LAPD. She’s on point for the investigation into the murder of her partner, Detective Flynn, so we’ll expect her to be involved with the prosecution of Ricky Hedges and his personal bodyguard Otis for that crime. Both of these men have been implicated by Jerry Kravitz, and we’re confident we’ll find corroborating evidence when we get inside Club Red.”
“But it was so sweet of you for thinking I was a stripper,”
Ronnie said, with a wink to Peebles. “And me still trying to get my figure back after having a baby.”
As the FBI agent squirmed in his chair, Tessa fought for his attention again. “Can I assume that we have a deal?”
Rabani spoke up instead. “Am I to understand that you are willing to turn over the lead on all aspects of the investigation into Club Red? And in return you simply want to ensure that we go easy on some of the federal charges these defendants are facing in exchange for guilty pleas on the state charges?”
“That’s it,” Carmen agreed.
“I don’t get it.” Rabani frowned and looked over his notes. “You’d be turning over a huge case. Why? What’s in it for you?”
Carmen shrugged. “Many of my constituents don’t really understand money laundering and other financial crimes. To them, organized crime is something they encounter when they watch
The Sopranos
on HBO each week. But most of the voters I represent are parents, and they do understand the impact of sex crimes on our community. The state charges revolving around what happened to Kelly Maarten are something that will resonate with them. They will also form the cornerstone of my upcoming efforts to raise the awareness of crimes against women and children.”
“So it’s a political coup for you,” Peebles sneered.
“And a moral one,” Carmen snapped back. “In addition to being a hard-fought victory for my prosecutor. You can’t take away from her the fact that she put this whole thing together from a chance conversation with a distraught young girl.”
Tessa cleared her throat. “I would consider this a victory for Kelly and other girls like her who have been victimized. And if I can’t push straight-up sexual assault charges, maybe we can stir up enough outrage so that the laws are changed to better reflect the reality of exploitation today.”
“I see. We have a political and legal mission here. That’s
good enough for me,” Rabani said, then looked at Peebles for agreement.
“But I would like one more concession from your team. It shouldn’t be too difficult,” Tessa said.
“What do you want?” Rabani asked.
“We’re willing to give you this case, and let you run with it. But in return, we want to be able to get Kelly out safely.”
“How does this impact us?” Peebles asked.
“We don’t want the FBI tagging along, for one,” Luke said.
Tessa spoke quickly. “I know that your next step will be to serve the owners of Club Red with search warrants and subpoenas,” she began. “I’d like to request that you wait a couple of days. We can’t afford to have Ricky Hedges tipped off about how far this investigation has come. If there were to be a raid and search of the property, I’m worried about our ability to ever discover what’s happened to Kelly Maarten.”
“What did you plan to do in these next few days?” Rabani asked.
Luke spoke up again. “I’ve had someone inside Club Red for some time, to verify each day that Kelly was safe. But she hasn’t been seen as of a few days ago. We know Ricky has moved her, and she could be in grave danger, so we have to move quickly. Jerry Kravitz gave us the name of a woman who works at Club Red, and said she probably knows where Kelly has been taken.”
“So you want to interview the woman, then go to where this minor has been taken and free her before Ricky Hedges is tipped off about the investigation,” Rabani said.
“Yes,” Tessa said. “It’s the only way to guarantee her safety. She also may know a great deal about what is going on inside Club Red, which only makes her more vulnerable.”
“That’s probably true,” Peebles said. “But I’m afraid we can’t help you.”
“Why?” Tessa asked baldly.
“Because as we speak the task force operational unit is
preparing to raid Club Red. The whole thing will go down in a few hours.”
“No.”
“I’m very sorry.” Rabani seemed sincere, so Luke figured he wouldn’t mess up the guy’s nice suit by giving him a bloody nose.
Tessa shut her eyes in real despair as she realized that Kelly’s time had finally run out.