“Avery? Name’s Ari Romo. Regina was just telling me that you were coming over, and she was telling me that she wants me to meet you. I’m a reporter with the New York Times.”
I looked over at Regina, and she just shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, I’ve been seeing this dude at these parties at least once a week, sitting around and not doing much. He paid his dues just like everybody else, and I’m guessing that there is not much vetting going on of the people who came in that place. I mean, as long as you got the $50,000 to plunk down, they’re going to let you in the door. And, well, the paper apparently gave him that money. He’s been working on this story for months. And I found out that the last time I was at the prison, talking to Harrison Baker, the guy who was involved in the Aslanian clan, this guy found out why I was there. He was also there, just by coincidence, talking to one of his confidential informants in another case. He found out who I was talking to, and he went to talk to him as well, and he found out what was going on. He was on top of the story like white on rice, because he sees an opening for himself as well.”
He smiled when she said that. “Yeah. I’ve been working on that story for all this time, but I admit, I was afraid that it was going to get killed because of Yuri being involved with Carl. My editor apparently got a message from Yuri last month about me. He figured out who I was, and he was making threats to the newspaper about what would happen if I went ahead with the story. And it wasn’t going to be pretty. Not that that scares the paper. The paper obviously publishes stories all the time where there’s threats being made against them, but they go ahead with the story anyway. But the editor was afraid for my life, so she was sitting on it for now. But Regina managed to get Yuri out of the picture, so it’s now time for me to strike as well. And I can be extremely valuable to you if you allow me to go with you to talk to Carl. I already have my story written up, and I know exactly who has been in that place over the last six months. And the best part? I have a client list. Don’t ask me how I got it, but I have it.”
“So you already have what you need to file the story?”
“The story’s already been written. So, if you take me with you, I can be very persuasive in convincing him that he needs to hang it up. The only problem is that he might flee the scene. But then again, that wouldn’t be tragic, because nobody has been able to prosecute him yet. And trust me, in my story I’m going to expose everybody who has been in this guy’s pocket, which is just about every judge, prosecutor, and cop you can imagine. In other words, nobody’s going to charge him with a crime here. So, if he decides to go and flee to someplace else, I guess he’s going to be their problem. Not that that makes me feel good. I would obviously prefer that this guy is not able to hurt other girls anywhere in the world, but, once this story comes out in the newspaper, the entire world is going to be on notice as to exactly what kind of person he is. Something tells me that even if he decides to flee the scene and go to a different country, he’s not going to be able to do what he’s doing anymore with impunity.”
I suddenly started to get excited as I talked to this guy. Everything was coming together. I knew that there was a good chance that by the end of this week, Carl was going to be a hunted man. Everybody who was in his pocket were going to look like the chicken shits that they were, and Carl was going to be exposed. Best of all, it meant that Carl was going to shut down his operation, and all those girls were going to be asked to leave. Regina had become close with every girl who had lived there, and she had even become close with the day players, which meant that I hopefully would be able to sign all of them up for a lawsuit against Carl. That would be the final nail in the coffin, and those girls would finally be able to get a little bit of justice for the childhood that was taken from them.
“Okay. You come with me when I go and talk to Carl tomorrow. I’m supposed to go see him at two. He thinks that I’m going to help him with the task of finding somebody else to be his enforcer. At least, that’s the story I gave him.”
* * *
So, the next day, Ari and I ended up driving up to Del Mar to Carl’s mansion. Just like Regina had said, the place was gorgeous. It was a modernist home, all glass and steel and cubes, and looked like the home of a Hollywood star. There was not anybody at the gate, no guy with the gun like when Regina first went there. I simply spoke into the intercom, and explained who I was, and they buzzed me on through.
I drove up the long drive to the front door, and Ari and I got out the car and went up to the enormous wooden door and rang the bell. A guy answered the door.
“Hello, my name is Jurgen. I’m Carl’s son. You must be Avery.” He looked over at Ari. “You can’t be here. I know who you are and what you’re doing, and you can’t be here.”
We were prepared for this. “On the contrary, I am going to be here,” Ari said. “And who’s gonna stop me? I happen to know that Carl does not have a goon who is going to stop me from being in here, and we need to talk to your dad today. We need to tell him what’s going to happen. We need to talk to him about what his next step is going to be. Now, you need to let us in the door, because we both need to talk to him.”
Jurgen looked at me and shook his head. “You lied to me over the phone. I should’ve known. But come on back, I have a feeling that there is not a whole lot that we’re going to b able to do to avoid the coming storm. My father was not able to find backup enforcement, so I’ll be honest, he’s screwed. I mean, I didn’t know he was screwed until just now, but I have a feeling I know the reason why you guys are here.”
I could see in the guy’s eyes that he wished that he could kill both of us right there. But he also knew that would be pointless. He had to have known that Ari’s story was already going to run, and if Ari turned up dead, the first person that anybody would be looking at would be Carl himself.
He led us down the hall, out onto an enormous deck that was facing a cliff. I could see distant ships on the water. Sitting in a chair, in front of a long glass table, was a man who was about 55. He was in decent shape, extremely handsome, with dimples and blue eyes. However, even though he smiled at me when I walked out to meet him, I could tell in those blue eyes that he was very troubled. He took one look at Ari next to me, and his face fell.
“You!” He said, pointing right at Ari. “I trusted you. I let you in here, I let you have free rein of anything that you wanted. You drank my alcohol, you ate my food, you had fun at all my parties. I never thought that one of my clients would stab me in the back the way you apparently have.”
Ari just smiled. “I might’ve been at all your parties, but I never once touched any of the girls there. I’m sorry that that did not ring alarm bells in your head, but, frankly, I’m surprised that it didn’t. I’m sorry that you trusted me, but you’re responsible for my being in here in the first place. If you would’ve done some proper vetting, instead of just letting anybody in the door who had the exorbitant sum that you charged for the vile things that you were doing, then I would’ve never gotten in the front door.”
Then he looked at me. He figured out that I was not who I was, and he looked like he wanted to kill me on the spot. “Well, you’re here with him, so obviously you’re not who you said you were either. So, out with it. Who are you, and what do you really want?”
“Okay I’m just here to warn you about what’s about to happen to you,” I said. “As you probably have figured out, Ari here has written a story about your operation. It’s going to be filed in the New York Times any day. And there’s no way that you can kill the story, because you don’t have the manpower to anymore. After Yuri left you, you were left without the means to make people do what you wanted to have done. Oh, I know that you have everybody in your pocket in town. I know you have every judge and prosecutor and cop in your pocket, and that you have information on all of them to blackmail them, if you can’t bribe them. I understand that. But you got nothing on me, and you got nothing on Ari. And I’m here to tell you that time’s up.
Time is up. You
don’t scare me, you can’t do anything to me, I’ve been to prison and there’s not much that can scare me anymore. So listen up, because here’s what’s gonna happen. Ari is going to file his story, and he has your client list. He has your client list, and he’s going to publish it in the newspaper. It’s gonna be a scandalous story to end all scandalous stories. Everybody who’s been participating in these sick acts are going to be exposed for the men that they are. The game is over. Now, I want you to explain to all the girls in this house that you are letting all of them go. And you really have no choice in the matter. The story comes out, you’re going to be a hunted man, and so will all the people who have visited this place.”
I watched his face, and I could see that he knew that he was defeated. He had no goons to back him up. He had nothing on me that he could blackmail me with. He could get nothing on me to blackmail me with, either. His dirty deeds were going to be broadcast to the entire world.
No, there was nothing that he was going to be able to do. He was finally going to be brought to justice. Not in the legal sense, because he probably still wasn’t going to end up in prison, due to his “connections.” But in the real sense that everybody was going to know about him, and he was going to be hated around the world, and Netflix specials were no doubt going to be aired about him - he was done. Finished. Cooked.
He narrowed his eyes. “Do what you will. I’ll never stand trial for this. Understand that now. And, just so you know, I might be unprotected at this time, but there are plenty of families who would be willing to work with me. Plenty of them. I just haven’t found time to recruit one, because Yuri left me in the lurch. But when I do find one, you better watch your back. I have ways of making people dance to my tune, and I’ll stop at nothing to destroy you if you destroy me. You got that? I will bury you.”
“Huh,” I said. “Where have I heard that before? Sorry, not scared. I’m long past being afraid of small men like you. Now, you are going to have a talk with all of your girls, and you’re going to tell each one that their services are no longer necessary. I’m afraid that you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
Carl refused to meet my eyes. “The girls will be released from my service by the end of the day.”
“I thought so.”
* * *
By the end of the day, each girl was giving their walking papers. Regina was there to protect them. Britney was the girl who called her first, and she told her that all the other girls would soon be doing the same. They all were scared. They had the rug pulled out from under them. They hated what they did for Carl, absolutely despised it, but they had become a family to one another during their months of captivity. They had to rely on one another for all that time, and they were all scattered to the wind.
Regina invited Britney to her home, and asked her to bring the others, as well. She and I came up with the idea of renting out a large home in the North Park area of town. The rent was $6,000 a month, but the place was enormous - six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a living room, den, dining room and enormous sun room. Regina’s place was obviously too small for the girls to live in, and so was my place. Regina knew that none of the girls had a place to go. Either they were runaways because their home life was intolerable, filled with abuse, both sexual and physical, or they were pressed into service by their mother or father. None of the girls were kidnapped from a good home. They all had horrors to relate.
I was faced with a dilemma with all of them. If I alerted the authorities to their presence, they would be taken into the system. Some of them would be returned to parents who beat them, starved them, raped them. The rest would become foster kids or put into a group home. I didn’t want that for any of them. I wanted to keep them together. They had become each other’s support system, and I didn’t want to break that up.
I would be doing something illegal if I just kept them in that large home, with Regina and I taking turns staying there with them. But that was what I was tempted to do. At the same time, I knew that they all needed to re-enroll in school, and try to get their lives back on track. If they did that, if they re-enrolled in school, then the jig would be up.
So, I arranged a meeting with a social worker who might be able to help me find a way around this particular situation. But, for now, the girls were safe in this large home. There were 20 of them, all survivors of a particularly heinous war.
The next evening, after the girls got settled into the house, I called a meeting with them. I was going to have to tell them about the lawsuit that I planned to file on their behalf, and explain to them what I was going to have to do, as far as calling the social worker. When I talked about that, I saw fear in all of their eyes.
“I don’t want to leave this place,” Naomi, a gorgeous cafe au lait Jamaican girl cried, her enormous brown eyes filled with tears. “These other girls, they’re my sisters now. If you call the social worker, I’m going to be placed with an abusive family like my last foster family was. They locked me in a closet while they went out with their friends. They had other kids in that house, and they were all locked in a closet, too. They didn’t want to find a sitter for us, even a respite sitter, and they didn’t always have food in the house, either.”
I heard story after story like that.
“I’m sorry, girls, I really am, but all of you have to get back into school. You all have to get your diploma if you ever hope to become something in this world. And you can’t get back into school unless the system is notified about your situation. I’m really sorry. I would do anything if I could find a way that all of you could stay together and still go to school, but I just don’t see any way for that to happen.”
After I spoke with all of them, however, I knew that I was going to have to make it happen.
No matter what, I was going to make it happen.
Chapter 20
When I met with a social worker about the girls, she gave me an idea. Her name was Elaine Suffolk, and she was a heavy-set woman with a tight perm and a ready smile. “I’ll put you in touch with individuals who are licensed to run a group home,” she said. “If you can hire somebody to run it for you, and staff it with the professionals that are necessary for the girls, then you might be able to keep them together. I’ll have to meet with all the girls and make sure that they’re eligible for this situation. I’m sorry, but we’re probably going to have to contact their parents, but for the girls who were already in the system before they were brought to that home in Del Mar, it will be easy to get them placed in this home. I’ll have to do an investigation of all of their situations, and make a recommendation to the court. I’ll get it expedited, because this is an urgent situation, and hopefully we can keep all these girls together in that home.”
That was encouraging to me. Most of the girls were in the system already, having been taken away from their birth parents long ago. The one girl that I was concerned about was Britney, however. Her parents were in New York, and her father was a respected judge. She ran away from home because nobody would believe her claims of abuse at the hands of her father. She was probably going to have to go back home, and I was afraid for her.
I put the fate of the girls in the hands of the social worker, however. She was going to take the necessary steps to make sure each of the girls were eligible to stay in the home that I rented out. She gave me some referrals for people who were licensed to run group homes, and I immediately got to work interviewing them.
By the end of two weeks, all of the girls were formally placed in the home together, even Britney. I found an excellent person to run and staff the home. Her name was Stella Gerwig, and she had years of experience. Within another few weeks, everything was running smoothly, and all the girls were back in school. They were all working with therapists who were helping them with their traumas, both before and after they started working in Carl’s house of horrors.
The way that Britney was able to live with the others was that Elaine got in touch with social workers in New York. Apparently, after Bri
tney ran away from home, her father, the “respected” federal judge, ended up in a federal prison after he was caught taking bribes from local politicians. Her mother was then committed to a mental institution, where she remained. It was determined that Britney did not have any relatives who were willing to take her in, so Elaine got her placed in the home as well.
* * *
In the meantime, Carl absconded to his home in Sweden, to get away from the absolute storm of publicity that happened after Ari filed his story in the New York Times. It was the top story for weeks on end. Every tabloid and every 24 hour news channel was filled with story after story about what the girls went through in that home. Nobody could believe that something like that could happen in America - and the Times boldly published his client list. Everybody on the list threatened lawsuits, but these threats were empty. These men knew what they did. They were shunned by society from that point on. Many jurisdictions were filing criminal charges against them. They were all ruined.
I wasn’t satisfied with any of it. I still didn’t know who killed Becky, for one thing. For another, it didn’t seem fair that Carl could get away on his private jet and go and live someplace else because everybody in America absolutely despised him. The judges, cops and prosecutors all had to answer for why it was they didn’t prosecute him, even though all of this was happening under their noses. All the men who were Carl’s clients were suffering. Why shouldn’t Carl also feel pain?
Justice Delayed: Southern California Legal Thriller #2 Page 11