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Path to Justice

Page 21

by Jim Dutton


  The presentation to the grand jury was going faster than Nick and Josh had estimated, partially because Felicia didn’t testify. The team was hoping to wrap it up on Thursday. The morning would begin by tying up a few loose ends on the money laundering operations. But most of the morning would be spent on the shooting of Felicia and Ana, and trying to connect it to the leaders of the cartel. Nick wanted that murder conspiracy count bad. The afternoon would be spent going over jury instructions and Nick explaining how the evidence supported each count of the indictment.

  The morning testimony went well. Ana’s testimony about the shooting was compelling and horrifying. Nick saw grimaces and brows knotted in anger on the jurors faces. Some tears were shed when Ana described her injuries and how close she came to bleeding out. The shooter’s motorcycle was described in detail as was the fact that Luis had the same model and color of motorcycle.

  Sendow’s statement to law enforcement about what Luis said about Felicia after the shooting was recounted word for word to the jury. “I didn’t see her the last time I was down there a couple of weeks ago. I asked Luis where she was. He told me we wouldn’t be seeing that bitch anymore. She was being taken care of. I knew not to ask any more questions about her.”

  A DEA expert testified about what drug cartels do to people who they think have betrayed them. “The lucky ones are just killed. The not so lucky ones have their tongues cut out and stuffed in their mouths before they are killed.”

  Nick decided his final witness would be Alan, Felicia’s first cousin. Nick wanted a civilian to testify last to bring it home to the jurors that this case was about real people, not just law enforcement. Alan was very nervous. He wouldn’t look Nick in the eye when he questioned him. He couldn’t sit still, jumping around in his seat. Nick tried to calm him down. Nick asked innocuous background questions about the family and how close he was to Felicia. Alan seemed to settle down a bit. He was able to give straightforward testimony about running into a couple of gang-bangers at the mall the day before Felicia was supposed to arrive in town and telling them she was expected the next day. Nick brought out that the gang-bangers were several years older than Alan and he knew them from the neighborhood. The next series of questions were sensitive and Nick had to draw Alan out about the connection of the two to the Baja Norte Familia cartel.

  “Alan, are there quite a few people in your neighborhood who belong to gangs?”

  “Yes.”

  “In your neighborhood, is it important to know who’s who, and who you can trust? Who you need to stay away from?

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a smart kid?

  “Yes. I got all As an Bs on my last report card.”

  “Good for you. You must know what’s happening in your neighborhood. That’s just being smart.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “The two guys you told us about at the mall. Who are they affiliated with?”

  “Uh, Uh, I’m not really sure.”

  “C’mon Alan, you’re no dummy. Who?’

  “They’re wannabes with the Familia.”

  “What are wannabes?”

  “Guys who aren’t full-fledged members. Guys who hang around the members, do things for them.”

  “How do you know about these guys?”

  “Everyone knows. I’ve seen them numerous times with Familia members.”

  “How do you know they were Familia members?”

  “If you’re in the neighborhood, you know. For one thing they have the Familia tat—an outline of Baja Norte with Familia written inside in red.”

  Nick paused, looked around at the jurors. They were locked in on Alan’s testimony. A thought came to Nick. He hadn’t thought about it when he talked to Alan last evening. Did Alan have any encounters with the two sometime after the shooting? After all, they were from the neighborhood.

  “Alan, since the shooting, have you talked to either of them?”

  Alan’s eyes bulged out. He looked like a deer in headlights. He jumped out of the witness chair, mumbling, “I have to go,” and bolted out of the jury room.

  Nick shouted to the grand jury as he ran after Alan, “Take a 10 minute recess, I’ll be back.”

  Pepe said, as Nick came rushing out, “What in the hell is going on? Alan just ran down the hall.”

  “He took a flyer, follow me, we have to bring him back.” Nick thought as he ran down the escalator to the first floor after Alan, I am too old for this. Pepe and Nick burst out of the front doors of the federal courthouse at the same time and saw Alan running across the street. Pepe pulled ahead of Nick. Both were shouting for Alan to stop. At Broadway, the main thoroughfare for downtown San Diego, vehicle traffic blocked Alan from running across the street. Pepe managed to grab his collar and pull him around. By that time, Nick came puffing up. “Son, you’re gonna give me a heart attack. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience. What’s going on? Why did you bolt?”

  “I did see them a couple of weeks later. They threatened me and told me the Familia never misses twice.”

  “You have to come back and testify. These people tried to kill Felicia.” He reluctantly agreed.

  When they returned to the courtroom, the grand jury was reconvened and Alan took the stand. He looked shaken and his body shrunk down into the chair. Nick resumed questioning, “Did you see the two after the shooting?”

  In a soft, timid voice, barely audible to the jurors, Alan replied, “Yes, two weeks later at the same mall.”

  “What did they say to you?”

  “‘Felicia got lucky. The Familia never misses twice. You tell us the next time she comes into town or it’ll be you dodging bullets.’”

  “Did you tell anyone about this?”

  “No, I was afraid. What could anybody do?”

  Anger dominated the faces of most of the jurors. Several looked stunned. Nick helped Alan off the witness stand and walked him to the door.

  After the lunch break, Nick told the jurors about the deliberation process. Copies of the proposed indictment were passed out to each of the 19 jurors. Nick reminded them that 12 out of the 19 had to agree to a count for it to be returned to the court for trial prosecution. He read instructions as to each element of the crimes charged. Nick spent the next two hours going over the evidence and how the evidence supported each count. He avoided any inflammatory language about the cartel, he just stuck to the facts.

  The jury began their deliberations just after 4:00 p.m. Nick told them to carefully go over the evidence and not to allow bias or any prejudice to influence their individual decisions. They could go home at five, and resume deliberations at 8:30 in the morning. He reminded them that unless ordered by a judge, they could never discuss the case with anyone outside the jury room. It would be a violation of federal law.

  Just before lunch on Friday, the jury foreperson told Nick that they had reached decisions on all the counts. They unanimously agreed to return all the counts except two; they voted 15 to 4 to return the murder conspiracy count and Ana’s assault count. Nick felt a great sense of relief. The team had made it through the first major hurdle. Nick took the indictment over to the presiding judge along with an application and order to have the indictment sealed until the defendants were in custody, or further judicial order. The judge signed the order that kept the indictment confidential. Nick looked forward to a good night’s sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Nick sauntered into the conference room on Monday. He was still feeling pretty good about the return of all the counts in the indictment. He looked around the smiling faces of his friends and colleagues. The pressure was off for a while. He knew as the trial drew nearer, the pressure would ratchet up, higher and higher. He threw down the bagels, cream cheese, and sliced tomatoes and onions on the table. Gasps of feigned surprise from around the table. The boss actually springing for bagels instead of the usual d
ozen glazed doughnuts he normally brought in. Pepe stammered, pretending to be speechless, “Boss Boss, I-I-I-I didn’t know you you you cared so much. Ba Ba Bagels cost real moooney.”

  “I get it wise guy. I’m a cheap bastard. But, I’m a proud bastard of how you all came together so we could get the indictment. You all deserve to feel good about yourselves. But while we’re feeling so good about ourselves, we have to figure out how to entice Luis, as well as chief enforcer Rael Sanchez, and the top cartel dog himself, Mateo Encinas, to come across the border so we can arrest them. There’s no way we can wait around and hope the extradition process works with Mexico. I only had one case where there was an extradition from Mexico. It was an American gringo on a drug case who the Mexicans were holding in “prison” in Cabo San Lucas. They would take him out deep sea fishing each day. When his money finally ran out, five years after the indictment, the authorities gave us a call to pick him up.” Nick continued, “We have to get the main players over here in sunny southern California. I don’t want to wait five years this time.”

  Jerry said, “Remember Sendow spoke about meeting Luis through horse racing, that Luis and Encinas are both into horses and come up for Opening Day at Del Mar. We can work with Sendow to see how all three can be encouraged to make an appearance for Opening Day.”

  Mario exclaimed, “I like it. I’ve been known to bet on the ponies a time or two. I volunteer to go undercover as a gambler, all my losing bets can be underwritten by Uncle Sam as a necessary expense of a covert operation.”

  “Dream on Mario,” responded Nick. “Other than Mario’s twist, I like it also. Opening Day is coming up in about six weeks, mid-July. That’ll give us time to organize the case for trial and discovery. It’ll also give us time to work out a plan for taking them down at the track, with 40,000 spectators milling about. They’ll be coming with armed bodyguards. There are no metal detectors or other security screens for fans coming to the track. High roller Mario, you’re in charge of working with Sendow on how to get them to Del Mar. Once we know about their plans, we can figure out how to take them down without endangering the crowd.”

  “Thanks Lester for coming by to talk with me.”

  “Did I have any choice Detective Cipriani?

  “No, not really, but I’m still glad to see you. We need to get Luis, Sanchez, and Encinas across the border together. We’re thinking Opening Day at Del Mar could be a good draw.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem with Luis and Encinas, they wouldn’t miss Opening Day. But the enforcer is a different manner. He isn’t into horse racing. He just likes his women and fine wine.”

  “We could arrange for a few beautiful escorts for them for the day and evening. There’s always a VIP party after Opening Day at the Hotel Mar Elixir near the track. I’m sure they serve the finest wine and tequila. You could also plant the seed that the books for one of the laundering operations don’t add up. You could tell Sanchez that it looks like one of the operators is getting greedy, taking more than the agreed upon cut. It’d give Señor Enforcer a business reason to come across the border.”

  “I already know that a friend of Luis and Encinas owns a horse he’s planning to run on Opening Day. The owner has lined up a top jockey to race his horse, Puma Sorpreza. I’ll give it some thought about how best to get Sanchez across the border. It sounds to me that you want to get them all together to arrest them. What’s going to happen to me?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll take you away separately and you can start your witness protection program the very same day. Come in next Wednesday and we can work out the details.”

  “Ana, I don’t want you volunteering for the escort undercover. It’s too dangerous. You have already paid your dues. Taking a couple of bullets was more than enough for this case.”

  “I have news for you Nick. What I volunteer for as an agent is not your concern. We both have our careers. I have my own sense of duty. After being shot, I want a piece of flesh back. This is personal. I’ll keep a cool head. But no way are you going to stop me from taking these jackals down. In fact, I’m going to put in for Luis’ escort. It’d be extra sweet to put the cuffs on him. I can stand an ass grab or two for a knee in the balls and dropping him to the ground.”

  “I don’t blame you for wanting payback, but I couldn’t take seeing you hurt in any way. I also don’t like the idea of Luis or any of the scum touching you.”

  “Have you already forgotten our conversation a few weeks back. About us not even being able to see each other outside of work until the trial is over. Remember, conflict of interest. You don’t have a personal claim on me. Maybe some year you will. If you ever do, we’ll have a claim on each other.”

  “Okay. You should’ve been a lawyer. You argue too well for an agent.”

  A smile returned, and a sparkle to her eye. “You’re lucky I didn’t go to law school. I would’ve been an ass kicker with no conscience. Now I’m just an ass kicker, sweetheart.”

  “It’s okay to kick me when I’m down. I put myself in that position. But go easy on my profession; there are a few of us with ethics.” Ana looked at him with a furrowed brow and downturned lips. Utter disbelief registered on her face. “Well, Ana, we at least like to think we have ethics.”

  “That’s better.”

  “Detective Cipriani, you didn’t tell me that I rated Mr. Drummond and others for our next meeting.”

  “I wanted to surprise you. What are your thoughts about getting the big three over here for Opening Day?”

  “Luis and Encinas are coming. They plan to bet on their friend’s horse. Luis views himself, as in all things, an expert in horseflesh. He bragged he was going to inspect Puma Sorpresa before the race while she’s in the paddocks. If he likes what he sees, he’s going to lay a large, off-site bet on the big filly. I’m working on getting Sanchez to come along through my conversations with Luis. I let it drop to Luis that the Morales laundering operation may be skimming some extra cash off the top and it would be a good idea for Sanchez to pay Morales a personal visit to ensure compliance.”

  Lester continued, “Luis liked the escort idea and getting into the Mar Elixir VIP party after the races. By the way, Luis likes young, saucy Hispanic women like Felicia, El Jefe Encinas likes rubios— a tall, striking blonde will do, and the enforcer likes attractive, well-formed brunette gringas, like agent Schwartz over there.”

  Ana was quick to reply. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. But there’s no need to be delicate. He likes big tits, right?”

  “Yep.”

  Nick spoke through a scowl, “I’m glad we settled the semantics of the scumbags’ personal tastes. Let’s move on to more pertinent things. How are they planning to get here? How many bodyguards will they have?”

  “They’ll come in a limo with bullet-proof glass. I don’t know their exact route to the track. They’ll be dropped off at the VIP gate with their bodyguards. I’m to meet them with the girls at the Turf Club. I’d think a total of two bodyguards, maybe three.”

  Nick was lost in thought. No one said anything. Nick rubbed his temples. He looked over the group. The seconds ticked by. Lester began to move around in his seat. Nick stared straight into the eyes of Lester, across the table from him. “I don’t have to remind you Lester how much we all have riding on this. You’re committed, no turning back. If we even get a whiff of you screwing us on this, you’ll start collecting social security while you’re still in prison, or maybe we’ll let you out with a snitch jacket. How long will you last out there? Do we understand each other?”

  Lester’s pupils widened. He was clammy and taking small, shallow breaths. His voice cracked as he tried to speak. In a low, timid voice, he whispered, “I understand.”

  “Good, now take a few deep breaths and relax. I spoke to your attorney and we have your witness protection program set up. We know you like the ocean and the warm weather. Your going to the leper colony on
the north side of Molokai. Mostly native Hawaiians live on Molokai, population 7,500. A limited number of tourists visit the colony, mostly by taking mules down the only mountain trail to the isolated peninsula. Switchbacks wind their way down 2,000 foot cliffs that seal off the colony from the rest of the island. There are still nine people with leprosy who live there. It’s a national monument. We’ve arranged for you to live there and work as a bookkeeper.”

  “Mr. Drummond, what are you talking about? You’re shipping me off to a leper colony?”

  “No worries. It’s just until the end of the trial. Then we can re-evaluate your situation. You can bring your snorkel gear. It’s stunningly beautiful. I vacationed in Molokai a few years ago and hiked down the switchbacks to visit for a day. The colony has a store, a small bar, and medical facilities. There’s no reason for concern, they’re all cured. They found a cure in the forties.”

  “This is a lot to take in.”

  “Just remember the agreement you signed, upon the advice of your attorney. You agreed to plead guilty to one money laundering count and one drug distribution count, with no more than three years in prison. That, as you well know, depends on your complete cooperation and truthful testimony. After the trial, we’ll recommend to the sentencing judge what we think your appropriate sentence should be within the three year parameter. I can be both a very grateful guy and a very vengeful guy.”

  “Got it Mr. Drummond. Molokai sounds great.”

  “We’ll meet one more time before Opening Day when we know more about our targets’ movements. See you then Lester.”

  “What have you got for me Mario? Time is a wasting. Opening Day is next Thursday.”

  “We’re in good shape Nick. I spoke to Lester yesterday. The cartel’s head of enforcement is coming as well. He’ll be taking a separate car with a third bodyguard. He’s leery about having the three of them traveling together. He’ll meet them after the races start at the Turf Club. The head of track security is retired FBI. A lot of security for special events are off duty cops. He got a bit hinky when I told him about taking down the top three jefes of the Familia at the track. He relaxed a bit when I told him our plan is to arrest them inside the stall assigned to Puma Sorpresa in the paddocks. He’ll supply our agents with track mucking coveralls. We’ll have three agents cleaning up horse shit. There will be additional back-ups in track uniforms nearby.”

 

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