by Leigh Jones
“She’ll get one! She’s not at the bottom of the ocean. We have her body. You’ll be able to take her home.”
Esperanza gazed at him with wide, wondering eyes. She looked at Jimenez and back at Johnson. Her thin fingers, cold as ice, grasped his hand and squeezed hard. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Johnson squeezed her hand in return and then sat back, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“I know you’re tired, and you need to rest. But can you just tell me what happened today? And then, would you be willing to look at some photos? I’m hoping you can help me identify these men.”
She nodded. “After Gloria died, they kept me tied up. I don’t know how many days passed. El Carcelero was on the phone a lot, probably with El Jefe. At first, I just wanted to die too. I hoped he would kill me. But then I realized I was the only one who could ever tell what happened to Gloria. Then I was determined to stay alive. I kept watching for a chance to escape, but none came, until today.”
She started talking faster now, anger replacing her tears.
“El Carcelero came to my room and dragged me into the living room. He had a gas can and a gun. I think he was about to shoot me when someone started pounding on the front door. He opened it and there was a girl there. He grabbed her but she fought back. She knocked him backward and he fell over the coffee table. It gave us just enough time to get out the door. He started shooting at us but we made it to the bushes. After we heard him drive off we waited for a few minutes to make sure he wasn’t coming back. Then the girl cut the tape off my wrists. I have no idea who she was or how she got there.”
Hearing what Kate had done brought a faint smile to Johnson’s lips. She really wouldn’t let anything stop her from seeking the truth.
“She’s a reporter. She’s been chasing this story for months. And she had a previous run-in with your El Carcelero.”
Johnson asked, holding his phone up for her to inspect Jose Vargas’ drivers license photo.
“Is this him?”
Esperanza nodded, her mouth set in a hard line.
“He won’t be coming back,” Johnson said with a grim satisfaction that surprised him. “Ever. I caught up with him as he tried to escape. We chased him off the island, and he crashed. The car exploded.”
“He’s dead?”
“Most definitely.” Johnson nodded, searching her face for a clue about how she would respond to the other photos he had to show her. “Can you look at two more pictures?”
When she nodded, he pulled up a photo of James Finney and held up his phone.
“Jim,” she said, glaring at the placidly smiling face of her sister’s killer.
Johnson’s heart began to pound as he pulled up the last photo. He took a deep breath and said a quick prayer that this would be the final piece of the puzzle. When he turned the phone to the traumatized girl in front of him, her face contorted into a wordless snarl.
“El Jefe,” she spat out, turning away in disgust.
Relief swept over him and he leaned back in his chair. That was it. The last unanswered question. The tension and hopelessness he’d carried for six months slowly melted away, leaving him thoroughly drained. He couldn’t remember when he’d been more tired. They sat in silence for a while.
“How did you know?” Esperanza finally asked. “How did you know who they were and where to look for me?”
“Your sister was wearing a necklace. We traced it to the man you knew as Jim. His name is James Finney. The rest was a lot of guesswork. I didn’t know to be looking for you, but I was looking for the house.”
Esperanza nodded slowly, as though trying to take it all in.
“Did Jim confess to killing Gloria?”
“No, but with your testimony, I’m sure he will.”
“Testimony?” Fear filled her voice and creased her forehead. She clutched the sheet to her chest again. “I would have to testify, in court?”
Dread dropped into Johnson’s stomach like a stone. He never dreamed she would hesitate to testify against the men who had tortured her and her sister.
“Well,” he said, faltering as he tried to figure out how to put it in the least threatening way possible. “We have nothing definite to tie them to what happened to you. You’re the only one who can identify them.”
Esperanza started to tremble, the anger and determination she’d shown in the last few minutes vanished. She shook her head back and forth, slowly at first and then more quickly.
“I don’t know. I don’t know! I just want to go home.”
“You will go home, soon,” Johnson said urgently, hoping to comfort her. “In fact, you can go home anytime you want. We won’t keep you here if you want to leave. You’re free now. But if you don’t testify, I can’t guarantee that we’ll be able to punish them for what they did.”
Esperanza never took her eyes off his face, but she didn’t respond. She just stared with wide frightened eyes.
“Rest now,” Johnson said, standing up and giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
She nodded and leaned back into the pillows, her eyelids already half closed. She looked so young and fragile. The entire case rested on her thin shoulders. Worry gnawed at the pit of Johnson’s stomach as he and Jimenez walked quietly out the door.
What if Esperanza decided she couldn’t tell her story to a jury? What if Finney and Reyes walked away, scott free?
He’d once told Kate to take comfort in ultimate justice. Everyone would have to account for their actions some day, he’d promised her. That assurance rang hollow now. He wanted to see these predators in handcuffs, locked behind bars for their crimes. If they didn’t pay for what they’d done, justice was a joke. For the first time in years, the sharp dagger of doubt tore a hole in his faith.
What was the point of seeking out the truth if criminals went free?
Summer murders solved
Three deaths are connected to a sex trafficking and prostitution ring operated out of the Port of Galveston
By Kate Bennett
Galveston police announced Thursday they have busted a human trafficking and prostitution ring with tentacles that stretched from Mexico to Texas. They believe the ring is responsible for this summer’s two unsolved murders as well as the death of the young Hispanic girl who washed up on Channelview Drive last week.
Seven suspects are in custody, and police expect to issue more arrest warrants soon.
“This is a criminal enterprise the likes of which I have never seen,” a visibly moved Police Chief Sam Lugar said during a news conference. “The people who participated in these crimes are guilty of the most heinous exploitation and cruelty. We can all be thankful that their vile house of cards came down around their ears when it did. Otherwise, there’s no telling how many women they would have taken advantage of.”
While two of the trafficking victims died, at least one survived. Police rescued a young woman they have so far declined to name at a house on Sportsman Road after an officer in the area reported sounds of gunfire. The woman remains at the University of Texas Medical Branch, recovering from unspecified injuries.
A necklace speaks
Also on Thursday, Galveston investigators arrested James Finney, a well-known Houston businessman, and charged him with second-degree murder, solicitation, and statutory rape. They believe he killed Gloria Suarez in a fit of passion sometime within the last two weeks and dumped her in West Bay. Suarez was a Mexican national brought to the island and forced to work as a prostitute. She was just 16 years old.
Investigators identified Finney through the necklace the girl was wearing when she died.
“Although this young woman could no longer speak for herself, she helped identify her killer,” said Det. Peter Johnson, who led the investigations into all three murders. “Without that necklace, we might never have found out who she was. Now we’ll be able to send her home to her mother, who had no idea what had happened to her little girl.”
Finn
ey will be arraigned on Monday. His lawyer, well-known Houston defense attorney Dustin Scruggs, said his client planned to plead not guilty.
“This was a tragic accident,” he said. “Mr. Finney is a respected member of the community who had no idea what he had gotten himself involved in. We are confident that when a jury hears all the evidence, they will acquit him of these charges.”
The ring unravels
Police also arrested three longshoremen believed to be involved in transporting Suarez and other girls to locations on the island and possibly the mainland. Bobby Martin, Javier Ruiz, and Tony Vernon, all Galveston residents, have been charged with continuous trafficking of persons, a felony that could send them to jail for 25 years to life. Mexican officials working with Galveston police also arrested three cruise ship crew members who recruited the girls and smuggled them aboard the boat to make the journey from Cancun to Texas. The ship left Galveston earlier this week, before the arrest warrants had been issued. The men have so far not been identified but are expected to be extradited early next week.
“We are cooperating fully with authorities as they investigate this terrible crime,” the cruise ship company said in a prepared statement. “We are evaluating our processes to see how this could have happened and make sure it can’t ever happen again.”
Investigators are piecing together the sordid story of the trafficking ring with help from Suarez’s sister, the unnamed survivor found at the house on Sportsman Road. Although they have not released many details, police said the sisters traveled to the United States willingly, thinking they would be working as maids or nannies. When they arrived, they were taken to the house, held captive, and forced to host parties for groups of men.
Police have not identified the man, or men, in charge of the ring, but they believe Jose Vargas, who died in Tuesday’s fiery crash on Interstate 45, acted as the girls’ jailor.
“We believe that Mr. Vargas was planning to make a getaway, possibly to Mexico, after he learned our investigators had interviewed Mr. Finney,” Lugar said. “Nothing but persistence and good police work kept him from getting away. Our officers had found the house and were about to execute a search when Vargas ran.”
Investigators think Vargas was trying to kill Suarez’s sister in an attempt to silence a potential witness before he fled. Johnson described her survival as nothing short of miraculous. As she recovers from her ordeal, police hope she will be able to help identify others involved in the ring.
Fish Village murder
Although Suarez and her sister were the trafficking ring’s last victims, they were far from the first. Based on statements from another witness, the ring started as a conduit for women eventually taken to strip clubs in Houston.
One of those early victims ended up shot to death in Fish Village in June. Investigators believe she escaped from a warehouse where she was being held after longshoremen took her and two other women off the cruise ship.
“When the traffickers discovered she was missing, they followed her, eventually catching up with her on Barracuda Drive,” Johnson said. “We believe they planned to recapture her and take her back to the warehouse. Her death was an accident.”
Johnson would not elaborate on the details of how she ended up being shot, but he identified the man who shot her as Julian Costa, the longshoreman who eventually ended up dead himself.
Galveston police are working with Mexican officials to identify the woman and find her family, who likely have no idea what happened to her.
Retribution
After Costa killed the woman, investigators believe he had plans to turn himself in. When other members of the trafficking ring found out, they killed him.
Investigators have not said whether they know who struck the fatal blow, but they are interviewing Martin, Ruiz, and Vernon and hope soon to have a better idea of what happened.
“This investigation is not over,” Lugar said. “We are continuing to get new information. We believe this ring goes beyond the people we’ve arrested so far, and we expect to make more arrests soon.”
Chapter 34
Kate dug her fingers into the knots that crowned her shoulder blades. She’d been hunched over her laptop for two hours working on a story about Julian Costa. It was Saturday, but typing and tense chatter filled the newsroom. Each reporter was working on a different story about the trafficking ring, examining it from every angle. The Sunday paper would be filled front-to-back with exclusive coverage of the case.
It had been all hands on deck since Kate came back from the house on Sportsman Road, and the pressure had worn tempers thin.
“I don’t know why the rest of us have to work on this. It’s been Kate’s story all along,” Jessica grumbled as she stalked out of Lewis’ office. Kate pretended she hadn’t heard. Jessica had always made it clear she hated having to work on anything to do with crime or cops. Kate suspected it was because she felt out of her depth, but to the other reporters, she was just being lazy.
“If you spent as much time writing and reporting as you do bitching, your stories might be worth reading,” Delilah said, catching the exchange between phone calls. “There’s no way one person could cover all this. Although we’d probably do just fine without your meager contributions.”
“Mind your own business,” Jessica snapped as she stalked back to her desk, cheeks flaming.
“I’m about to turn in my first draft,” Kate said. “If you need help with something, Jessica, I can pitch in.”
The business reporter huffed as she collapsed in her chair and hunkered down behind her computer screen. She didn’t bother responding. Kate shrugged and turned back to her computer. Every word of her story resonated with Muriel’s sorrow. Going through the details again wrung Kate’s heart. Julian Costa did not deserve to die, and his widow didn’t deserve to suffer for his crimes for the rest of her life. Kate hoped her story would elicit enough public sympathy that the DA would drop any charges against Muriel. She read through the story one more time and emailed it to Lewis. She was on her way to his office to tell him it was ready for a first edit when Mattingly came rocketing out from behind his desk, bug-eyed and trembling with anger.
“Dammit! Bennett, get in here. Lewis, you too. I’ve never heard of such spinelessness in my entire life.”
Kate’s heart sank. Mattingly had been on the phone with the publisher and the newspaper’s lawyer most of the morning, trying to convince them to clear a story about the house on Sportsman Road and the man who owned it. After the official news conference announcing the arrests, Johnson had tipped her off to the person behind the shell corporations. But it was off the record. She had to do the legwork herself to dig through all the layers to get to Reyes’ name.
She finally found the last piece of paperwork at about 3 p.m. Friday. She made five calls to Reyes’ office, trying to get a comment. Each time, his secretary claimed he was too busy to talk. During the last call, Kate warned the woman they would run the story anyway, telling readers Reyes refused to comment. Fifteen minutes after she hung up, the publisher walked into Mattingly’s office and shut the door. Reyes had called and threatened to sue the paper out of business if they published the story. Kate fumed and ranted when the managing editor delivered the news. But Mattingly assured her he could persuade the newspaper’s lawyer to give them the green light by the next day. Evidently, he was wrong.
“Here’s the deal,” Mattingly said, pulling a bottle of Maalox out of his drawer and taking a swig. “Our lawyer says we’re in the clear on this. Your story doesn’t say anything that can’t be backed up by public records. But if Reyes decides to sue, it will cost us several reporters’ salaries, even if we prevail. The publisher says we can’t afford it. It’s not worth it to him to get in a big court fight when it seems likely the police will make some kind of announcement about the house soon.”
Kate’s white-hot anger from the previous day had fizzled into smoldering resentment. Her pulse thumped a steady rhythm of dismay in her temples.
“What if they don’t?” Her pent up frustration exploded a little more forcibly than she intended. “If they don’t plan to press charges, they’re not going to say a word. And when it comes to Reyes, the DA is as spineless as the publisher.”
“They’ll have to make some kind of comment about the home’s owner. At some point, they’re going to have to at least talk to him. And the DA is going to have to explain why he won’t press charges, if that’s what he decides to do.”
Kate threw her hands up in mock surrender. “All this means is that someone’s going to scoop us on this.”
“Well, if they do, they do,” Mattingly barked, banging his fist down on the desk. “It’s out of my hands. If you’d worked your sources better, maybe we’d have an on-the-record comment by now that would give us some cover.”
The managing editor’s unjust criticism knifed through Kate’s self-righteous indignation, deflating her satisfaction in seeing a case she’d chased for months finally come to an end. Her simmering anger at this latest setback burst into flame that quickly consumed her better judgment. She opened her mouth to spew a caustic reply, but Hunter Lewis put his hand firmly on her shoulder.
“Kate’s done a great job here. Sometimes these things don’t pan out like we think they should, so we have to improvise.”
Kate crossed her arms tightly over her chest and glared at Mattingly. He took another swig of Maalox.
“What about this girl they have holed up at UTMB?” Lewis continued. “Shouldn’t she be able to identify Reyes, if he really was involved?”
“She should,” Kate said, only slightly mollified. “And I would think if she had, they would have issued an arrest warrant immediately. I don’t know why they haven’t. Johnson won’t tell me a thing about her. He won’t even say how bad her injuries are.”
“It’s also possible that she’s so traumatized that she doesn’t want to testify,” Mattingly said. “I wrote about a case like that years ago, in Dallas. This girl was attacked and beaten by someone she knew. She was the only one who could identify him. But she just refused. She said she couldn’t go through the pain of a trial.”