“Okay,” he said after everyone was seated again. “Tell us about Moya.”
14
For the next twenty minutes Kendall Roberts told us a story about drugs and prostitution in Los Angeles. She said that the two vices were a popular combination in the upscale escort market, with the escort providing the client with both. It more than doubled the profitability of each liaison. And that was where Hector Moya came in. Though normally a middleman who took kilo quantities of cocaine across the border for distribution to lower-level dealers in the network, he had a taste for American prostitutes and always kept a quantity of powder on hand for himself. He paid for these liaisons with cocaine and quickly became a supply source for many of the upscale escorts working in West Hollywood and Beverly Hills.
It became obvious to me in the telling that what I thought I knew about Gloria Dayton was vastly incomplete. It also confirmed my earlier suspicions, that in the last deal I made for her, I had been merely a puppet carefully manipulated by Gloria and others. I tried to keep up the outward pretense of already knowing everything Roberts told us, but inside I felt used and humiliated — even eight years after the fact.
“So, how long did you and Glory and Trina know Hector before he was arrested and went away?” I asked at the end of her story.
“Oh, it must’ve been a few years. He was around a while.”
“And how did you learn of his arrest?”
“Trina told me. I remember she called up and said she heard he got busted by the DEA.”
“Anything else you remember?”
“Just that she said we were going to have to find another source if he was in jail. And I said I wasn’t interested because I wanted to get out of the life. And pretty soon after that I did.”
I nodded and tried to think about what I had learned from her and how it might fit with whatever the Fulgoni play was.
“Ms. Roberts, do you know an attorney named Sylvester Fulgoni?” I asked.
She creased her eyes and said no.
“You’ve never heard of him?”
“No.”
My sense was that Fulgoni needed Roberts as a corroborating witness. Her testimony about Moya would confirm information Fulgoni already had. That pointed toward Trina Trixxx as the likely origin of that information and possibly the source that gave up the name Gloria Dayton. Valenzuela had said nothing about having to serve paper on Trina Rafferty. This might be because Fulgoni already had her on board.
I looked back at Kendall.
“Did you ever talk to Glory about Moya and the bust?”
She shook her head.
“No, in fact, I thought she left the business at the same time. She called me once and said she was in rehab and that she was going to leave town as soon as she got out. I didn’t leave town but I quit the business.”
I nodded.
“Does the name James Marco mean anything to you?”
I studied her face for a reaction or any sort of tell. In doing so I realized she was really quite beautiful, in an understated way. She shook her head and her hair swung under her chin.
“No, should it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was he a client? Most of these guys didn’t use real names. If you had a photo I could look at it.”
“He wasn’t a client as far as I know. He’s a federal agent. DEA, we assume.”
She shook her head again.
“Then I don’t know him. I didn’t know any DEA agents back then, thank God. I knew some girls the feds worked. The feds were the worst. They never let them up, you know what I mean?”
“You mean as informants?”
“If they had their hooks in you, then you couldn’t even think about quitting the life. They wouldn’t let you. They were worse than pimps. They wanted you to bring them cases.”
“Was Glory caught like that with Marco?”
“Not that she ever told me.”
“But she could’ve been?”
“Anything’s possible. If you were diming for the feds, you wouldn’t exactly announce it.”
I had to agree with her there. I tried to think of the next question I should ask but I was drawing a blank.
“What are you doing now?” I finally asked. “For a living, I mean.”
“I teach yoga. I have a studio on the boulevard. What are you doing now?”
I looked at her and I knew that the ruse was up.
“I know who you are,” she said. “I recognize you now. You were Glory’s lawyer. You’re also the lawyer that got that guy off who then killed those two people in the car.”
I nodded.
“Yeah, I’m that lawyer. And I’m sorry for the charade. I’m just trying to find out what happened to Glory and—”
“Is it hard?”
“Is what hard?”
“Living with your past.”
There was an unsympathetic tone in her voice as she spoke. Before I could answer, there was a sharp knock on the door that startled everyone in the room. Roberts leaned forward to get up but I raised my hands and lowered my voice.
“You may not want to answer that.”
She froze, half off of her chair, and whispered back.
“Why not?”
“Because I think it’s a man with a subpoena for you. He’s working for Moya’s attorney — Fulgoni. He wants to talk to you and put you on record regarding some of the things we’re talking about here.”
Roberts dropped back into her chair, her face showing her fear of Hector Arrande Moya. I nodded to Earl and he got up and went quietly into the entry area to check it out.
“What do I do?” Roberts whispered.
“For now, don’t answer,” I said. “He—”
A louder knock echoed through the house.
“He has to serve you personally. So as long as you avoid him, you don’t have to respond to the subpoena. Is there a way out the back? He might sit on the street waiting for you.”
“Oh my god! Why is this happening?”
Earl came back into the room. He had looked through the door’s peephole.
“Valenzuela?” I whispered.
He nodded. I looked back at Roberts.
“Or, if you want, I could accept service on your behalf and then go see a judge to quash it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Trash it. Make sure you’re not involved, that there’s no deposition.”
“And how much will that cost me?”
I shook my head.
“Nothing. I’ll just do it. You’ve helped me here, I’ll help you. I’ll keep you out of this.”
It was an offer I wasn’t sure I could make good on. But something about her fear made me say it. Something about her coming to the dreadful realization that she had not outrun the past touched me. I understood that.
There was another knock, followed by Valenzuela calling Roberts out by name. Earl went back to the peephole.
“I have a business,” Roberts whispered. “Clients. They don’t know about what I used to do. If it gets out, I’ll…”
She was on the verge of tears.
“Don’t worry. It won’t.”
I didn’t know why I was making these promises. I felt confident I could get the subpoena quashed. But Fulgoni could just restart the process. And there was no way I could control the media. Right now this whole thing was flying below the radar but Moya’s appeal contained charges of government misconduct, and if there was a full airing of the allegations, it was bound to draw attention. Whether that interest would extend to a peripheral player like Kendall Roberts was unknown but not something I could prevent.
And then there was the La Cosse case. I wasn’t yet sure how I could use Moya and his appeal in my client’s defense, but at minimum I knew I could introduce it as a diversion to muddy the waters of the prosecution’s case and make the jurors think of other possibilities.