Chapter 103
WE SPENT A few minutes talking to Kyle Anderson, laying out our evidence against him for human trafficking. We even told him about our witness, Jason Cortlandt.
Kyle let out a snort of laughter. “I’m sure Jason made it sound like a bigger operation than it is. All I do is refer girls.”
“That’s what Jason said he did.”
“It’s true. He referred girls to me, then I refer them to other people.”
“That’s what we’re interested in, Kyle. Tell us about these other people. Tell us about your role in the organization.”
“I just told you my role.”
“So you’re a stringer?” That was the term Alain Creasy had used.
Kyle was quick to say, “That’s exactly what I was. A stringer.”
“Who did you refer Donna Harris to?”
The name caught him completely by surprise. He lost all of his bravado. I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he took a big swallow. After too much time, he let out a weak, “I don’t think I know that name.”
“Most people called her Missy. She wanted to be a stand-up comedian. You dumped her body in the ocean.”
“I don’t think—”
“What about Tina Barnes? The poor girl you left in Golden Gate Park.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Because both of them were found murdered, with pepper-spray residue all over their faces. I’m going to bet it’s the very same sort of pepper-spray residue we’ll find in your little inhaler.
” I paused and studied Kyle’s face. Sweat was building over his upper lip.
“Though I guess technically it’s not an inhaler if it shoots stuff out. ”
I stopped talking at that point and sat in silence. Nothing Conklin or I could say would be worse than what Kyle’s imagination was conjuring for him now.
It looked like it was working. Kyle was literally squirming in the hospital bed. After a couple of minutes, he said, “I need to use the bathroom.” There was a definite panic in his voice. “Really. I need it right now.”
Conklin guided him out of bed and cuffed his hands behind his back.
Kyle rushed into the bathroom. He fell down on the white tiled floor and slid on his knees until he was next to the toilet. Then he started to vomit.
Conklin stood guard at the open door, not wanting to fall for a second ruse in one day. Although I’d have to say this seemed legit. Kyle vomited several more times. Rich helped him to his feet and wiped his face with a paper towel.
After he got Kyle settled back in a chair, the man looked up and said, “What kind of deal can I make?”
I looked directly at him. I kept my tone very even.
“This is not a negotiation. Give us everything you have on the organization. Help us find the girls. And we won’t push for a maximum sentence.
I’m not saying we’ll testify on your behalf.
But we won’t block any attempt to get a lighter sentence.
You won’t get that offer again once we leave this room. ”
We let him think about it for probably five minutes.
Kyle looked up at us and said, “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”