Inhuman Trafficking

by Mike Papantonio

  “You thought it wise for Michael to take on an armed thug?”

  “I don’t think it’s wise for anyone to take on an armed thug.”

  Deke couldn’t help but smile at the barb thrown his way. “After finishing your talk with the manager, Michael, you went and talked to the bouncer. How did that conversation come about?”

  “He attacked me as well. Only after he charged at me, and tried to take me down, did I respond with force.”

  “Force?” Deke asked.

  Michael said, “There is audio confirming everything I’ve just told you. The tape recording documents the attacks on my person, and the threats directed my way.”

  “And you don’t think that having such a recording shows premeditation?” Deke asked.

  “In Florida, you have a right to defend yourself.”

  Deke didn’t hide his skepticism. “You’re arguing this was a ‘stand your ground’ situation?”

  “I believe that could be successfully argued, but I also believe it will never be necessary to make that argument.”

  “And what makes you think that?”

  “I’m pretty sure that neither man will want to discuss the outcomes of our interactions, as the stories did not end well for either one of them. And their speaking about what occurred would not enhance their prospects for continued employment.”

  Carol’s glower put an end to Michael’s account. Deke unsuccessfully tried to hide his smile.

  “Don’t encourage them,” Carol said. “I already read Frick and Frack the riot act.”

  “I would never encourage that kind of behavior,” Deke said, winking.

  “You’re all children,” Carol said in mock reprimand.

  “What else?” Deke asked.

  Michael continued, “The bouncer told me that a few months ago, Driscoll lured Nataliya out of the back of the strip club to the delivery lot, where the two men from Nevada were waiting for her. That wasn’t the only time Andrei saw those guys. Last week they showed up again at the compound where I was told the workers are being housed, a remote area not far from DeFuniak Springs, and this time they took away an American girl.”

  “Where? Who? Why?”

  Michael shook his head. “I wished I’d had time to press him further. Perhaps I can interview him again.”

  “Not a chance,” Carol said.

  “As much as I’d like the idea of you getting a redo with him, I’m afraid Carol is right,” Gina said. “In court we could explain away one encounter, but not a second.”

  “Any update on Nataliya?” Deke asked.

  Carol said, “We passed on her last name to UCSIS and are waiting to hear back from them.”

  “Let’s hope they’re more responsive this time,” Deke said.

  “In their defense, citizenship and immigration is overwhelmed,” Carol said. “Every year there are more visa overstays than there are illegal immigrants. I was told there are at least six hundred thousand people with visa overstays currently living in this country. It’s no wonder the disappearance of Nataliya Nahorny didn’t raise any red flags, especially if her employer explained it by saying she ran off.”

  “Let’s make sure we get a complete background on her, and what, if anything, Mrs. Driscoll told UCSIS. I know Michael’s chomping at the bit to depose Vicky, but before that happens we need to make sure he’s got all the ammunition he needs. Speaking of which, what’s the latest on Karina Boyko and the party boat?”

  Carol said, “Miami Maritime Investigations has run into a little complication with the tracking of the Seacreto. The yacht left its marina the day after the fall squall and hasn’t been seen since. They’re on that. In the meantime, they were able to view footage from the marina’s CCTV. It’s grainy, but they confirmed five women went out, but only four women came back. They’re trying to make positive ID on the missing woman being Karina.”

  “What about the Seacreto’s other passengers?” Deke asked.

  “The footage doesn’t show any other passengers either coming or going.”

  Deke’s brows furrowed. “Explain that.”

  “I can’t, and neither can Miami Maritime. The logical assumption is there was a meetup offshore. They are gathering footage from all nearby marinas and yacht clubs to see who went out during the time in question.”

  “That sounds like Dark Ghoul’s MO,” Michael said. “They’re experts at keeping to the shadows, especially if they’re engaged in something illegal.”

  “Karina still seems determined to speak to us from the beyond,” Carol said. “I’m taking that as a sign she wants to be heard. By using her vyshyvanka tattoo, the Ukrainian investigator we hired has already located her mother.”

  “Great news,” Deke said.

  Carol’s body language suggested something else. “Unfortunately, we were the bearers of bad news. Mrs. Boyko was unaware that her daughter had died.”

  Deke shook his head. “Poor woman.”

  “She was understandably distraught,” Carol said. “But as upset as Mrs. Boyko was, she didn’t blame the messenger. She told the operative she wants justice for Karina, and wants to go after those who were responsible for her death.”

  “I’ve arranged for a Ukrainian translator and will be talking to Mrs. Boyko tomorrow,” Michael said.

  “Let’s give Karina the justice she deserves, and more,” Deke said.

  Everyone nodded. There were no smiles; just grim resolve.

  XXXV

  What Deke hated most about the allegation that he was a serial john was the likely impact it would have on his wife. Only three years ago, Deke had been wrongfully accused of murder. The knives had come out when his back was exposed, and Teri had been forced to bear the brunt of the attacks. He feared that was how it would play out again.

  Despite Deke telling the others to not involve themselves in the campaign being waged against him, his defenders had ignored his stated wishes and on their own time had tried to establish a time line using photographic evidence that should have killed the story.

  Should have.

  Judging by the conversation taking place at that moment between Gina and the managing editor of the American Enquirer, it didn’t appear that would be the case.

  “. . . and the horse you rode in on,” Gina said.

  Gina waited to hear a response, but there wasn’t one. She looked at her phone, shook her head, and said to Deke, “He hung up.”

  “And you’re surprised?”

  “That bastard knows everything was a setup,” she said.

  “At least you got his promise that they’ll detail our denials, along with our time line.”

  “They’re still going to run one or more of the pictures, and you know what they say about a picture being worth a thousand words.”

  “More like a thousand lies,” Deke said.

  “Especially if they run the picture with some clever headline like, Hooker Lawyer Caught in Cozy Embrace.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Deke.”

  Deke pretended to be unfazed by what he knew was going to be ugly. “I’ve been in worse spots.”

  “After the story comes out, we need to go after your accuser, as well as the publisher of the American Enquirer.”

  They had discovered that “Mindy’s” real name was Madeline Parsons, an escort who worked out of Atlanta and provided companionship to “older, successful gentlemen.” According to her still-active website, an evening of her “discreet” company came with a price tag of two thousand dollars.

  Deke said, “She’ll say it was a case of mistaken identity, at which time the Enquirer will print their retraction right under some advertisement for adult diapers.”

  Gina nodded, but her attention was still directed at her phone. Sounding surprised, she said, “Hannah Barber, the legal correspondent for the New York Times, left me a message. She wants to interview me for a story she’s working on.”

  Deke’s groan was visceral. “You don’t think the Times is dignifying the Enquirer’s gutter jour
nalism, do you?”

  “I doubt it. Usually their focus is on important legal issues, or court battles.”

  “Call her,” Deke said.

  Using her cell phone, Gina called the reporter’s number. Barber picked up on the first ring.

  “Thank you for calling me back, Ms. Romano,” she said. “I understand you represented Mr. Deketomis in a motion to show cause hearing earlier this week in Atlanta. I’m interested in what took place.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Barber. Judge Irwin has put a gag order on the Welcome Mat Hospitality case, so I really can’t comment.”

  The reporter said, “I don’t need you to directly comment, but I would like you to confirm what I have heard from others.”

  Gina had turned up the volume of her phone, and was holding it out so Deke could hear as well.

  “Why don’t you ask your questions, Ms. Barber, and I’ll decide if it’s appropriate to comment.”

  “Thank you. Is it all right with you if I tape this conversation?”

  “Go right ahead,” Gina said.

  “Ms. Romano, it was reported that Mr. Deketomis was sanctioned by the court, and your firm was fined fifty thousand dollars.”

  After a short eye consultation with Deke, Gina replied, “That’s correct.”

  “And I understand that during the proceeding you vigorously defended Mr. Deketomis after he was upbraided by the judge.”

  “I can’t comment on that specifically, but I will say that I vigorously defend all of my clients.”

  “Understood. But for the sake of clarity, I’m told that in the courtroom you challenged the impartiality and validity of Judge Irwin’s gag order and further amplified upon Mr. Deketomis’s publicized remarks.”

  Gina mouthed the letters WTF to Deke before responding, “I’m afraid I can’t talk about that, Ms. Barber.”

  “I have it on good authority that you told the judge that because you and Mr. Deketomis were officers of the court, that it was your moral responsibility to alert the public to the known dangers of sex trafficking, and that public safety should always trump judicial overreach. Is that accurate?”

  Deke began writing on a legal pad, and held it up for Gina to see. A single word was written: Source?

  “Where did you hear this, Ms. Barber?” Gina asked.

  “I can’t reveal that, but as I explained at the onset of our conversation, the purpose of this call is to merely confirm what has been stated to me on the record.”

  Deke wrote something else on his pad and held it up: Comment generally, not specifically.

  “I can’t discuss what occurred in the courtroom, but our firm has a long history of advocating for public health and safety. And I do think that young women, in particular, need to be cautioned about the predatory practices of human traffickers.”

  “Do you deny that you told Judge Irwin that his gag order serves corporate interests?”

  Deke and Gina exchanged glances. Finally, Deke wrote: Non-denial denial?

  “Ms. Romano?” asked the reporter.

  “I can’t comment specifically, but I will say that I’m not a fan of gag orders being weaponized.”

  “I’m told Judge Irwin threatened to hold you in contempt of court.”

  “I think that’s something you had better ask Judge Irwin,” Gina said.

  “I already have a call in to him.”

  Deke covered his mouth to mute his laugh.

  “Well, good luck with that,” Gina said.

  “One more question, Ms. Romano, and I don’t think it violates the gag order muzzling you.”

  “Ask it.”

  “Did you say to Mr. Bines that it fell to him to have to defend the emperor’s new clothes?”

  Deke offered a thumbs-up to Gina.

  “I might have said something like that,” Gina said.

  The legal correspondent laughed. “That might be part of our headline.”

  Gina’s smile bespoke her approval. But the idea of something else appealed to her even more. “It would make an even better illustration.”

  “Illustration?” The reporter sounded confused.

  “I make that suggestion off the record, of course, but just imagine the visual of Judge Irwin wearing only a white horsehair wig.”

  “We don’t do those kinds of illustrations in our daily paper,” the reporter said.

  “Pity.”

  “But sometimes illustrations are used in our Sunday magazine.”

  “God, I love the First Amendment,” Gina said.

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Romano.”

  “It was truly a pleasure, Ms. Barber.”

  XXXVI

  The demographics of Bay County Florida skewed very Republican, very white, and very conservative. Near the entrance to the Bay County Courthouse, however, was a historical marker that offered up a short history lesson to passersby, a reminder that even in the unlikeliest spots, landmark civil rights cases can take root.

  In 1961, Clarence Earl Gideon was charged with breaking and entering into a pool hall in Panama City. Because Gideon couldn’t afford a lawyer, he requested that an attorney be appointed to represent him, but was told that Florida only provided attorneys to indigent defendants whose crimes could result in the death penalty if they were found guilty. After Gideon was convicted, he petitioned the Florida Supreme Court for release because of his not having had a defense attorney present at his hearing. In 1963, the United States Supreme Court overturned his conviction in their landmark case of Gideon v. Wainwright. Their unanimous conclusion was that all defendants had a right to counsel. In the more than fifty years since that ruling, the rights of the indigent to receive legal representation had become an accepted part of American jurisprudence. In fact, those arrested were informed of this during the reading of their Miranda rights.

  Just as few could have imagined a landmark civil rights case emerging out of Bay County, neither did it seem likely that a state court judge like Kenneth Mobley would be practicing at its courthouse. The iconoclastic African American judge was not afraid to question the usual conventions of the day. Mobley could not be categorized as either liberal or conservative, but more as a free thinker who didn’t adhere to any singular ideology. He based his rulings on the tenets of the law, along with the litmus test of his soul.

  From the privacy of his chambers, Mobley sorted through the morn-ing’s paperwork that had been prepared by his staff. Mobley’s chambers were on the small side when compared to those of his peers around the country. The yellow-brick Bay County Courthouse had been built in 1915, and although its neoclassical architecture was pleasing to the eye, the structure had never been designed to serve the 185,000 residents that now lived within the county’s borders.

  Still, the best read of a judge often wasn’t seen in the courtroom as much as it was in their chambers. Mobley’s chambers were warm and personal. It contained the requisite legal library, of course, but the volumes didn’t look like a photo-opportunity backdrop as they did in so many other chambers. Framed pictures dominated the space, the biggest of which showed Martin Luther King Jr. walking arm in arm with others during the Selma to Montgomery march in 1965. The judge rarely advertised the fact that one of the individuals walking in the vicinity of King was his father. The picture was significant to the judge because a year after it had been taken, his father had disappeared. Although his body never turned up, federal law enforcement was convinced that the senior Mobley had been murdered. At the time of his disappearance, Kenneth Mobley had only been five years old.

  Even with the void of his father not being in his life, the apple ultimately did not fall far from the tree. Just like his father before him, Judge Mobley was passionate about civil rights.

  As he drank his morning coffee, the judge began reviewing a motion that had been filed for not only an expedited hearing, but an expedited deposition. The requests in themselves were unusual; expedited relief was not something normally granted. The more Judge Mobley read, though, the more the mo
tion intrigued him. Among its allegations were wrongful death, false imprisonment, and violations of RICO statutes.

  At its heart, Kenneth Mobley recognized that the motion was asserting the ongoing violations of the civil rights of H2B workers. These individuals, the motion stated, were in potential if not actual danger.

  Mobley loved his country, but he hated its notoriously short attention span. It wasn’t until 1965 that most of the country’s Jim Crow laws—which enforced racial segregation—were ruled unconstitutional. Before his death, his father along with many others had worked tirelessly to advocate that those laws be struck down. For too many years, those efforts had been for naught; judges who knew better, but shirked their duty to their office and to the Constitution; judges who refused to do the right thing and found excuses to turn a blind eye and deaf ear to the civil rights arguments made in their courtrooms. It wasn’t until after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed that courts across the country were forced to do what was right. If the courts hadn’t erred on the side of caution for so long, Judge Mobley wondered if his father’s life might have been spared.

  He read through the motion again. The judge was well aware that the lawyer for the plaintiffs was asking for a Trojan horse. His hope— his Hail Mary pass, some might say—was that if granted an expedited discovery, he would have the chance to gather evidence that might otherwise be denied him. It was a fishing expedition, of course. But was it a fishing expedition that was merited?

  Mobley thought of his father and the protests he’d led against Jim Crow laws. The vestiges of slavery had died hard—or maybe, if the allegations in this motion were accurate, they hadn’t died at all.

  The lawyer wanted immediate deposition access so as to allow him to ask his questions, and ask them without delay. Although Judge Mobley was familiar with the firm of Bergman/Deketomis, the lawyer who had filed the motion was unknown to him.

  That was about to change, the judge decided. He would give Mr. Michael Carey a chance to make his arguments for expedited discovery, as well as an expedited hearing, in person.