Its doors were shut for a week before Joshua Burch filed a notice of appeal and posted a $10,000 bond. The law allowed it to reopen pending appeal, a lengthy process.
Jesse won the battle but the war was far from over. It proved how difficult it would be to fight the nightclub owners. With no help from the local police or Fats Bowman, law enforcement was of little use. Using honest cops from other towns would be time-consuming and risky. Plus, the hookers were hard to catch—no one knew their real names and they could vanish at a moment’s notice.
Chapter 25
The way Lance figured things, if his business could survive the loss of gambling revenues brought on by the nosy state liquor board, and then the worst hurricane in history, it could certainly survive a new hotshot district attorney. The Carousel affair spooked him and the other owners, but after a few weeks the girls returned, as did their customers. He had the clever idea of requiring “club membership” of the regulars. The doors were open to anyone wanting to drink, dance, and watch the strippers, but if a gentleman desired something more he had to show his membership card. And, in order to get one, he had to be known to the bouncers, bartenders, and managers. The rule slowed the traffic somewhat, but it also made undercover work virtually impossible. Lance had enlarged photos of the six cops sent in by Jesse Rudy to infiltrate Carousel and later to testify. They were tacked to the walls in his clubs’ kitchens and the employees were on the lookout. A clean-cut stranger under the age of fifty had at least three sets of eyes on him before he reached the bar and ordered a drink.
The screening worked so well that everyone else followed suit. Before long, a few of the club owners felt so secure they reopened their casinos, but for members only.
* * *
Any sense of security, though, got rattled again when the DA made his next move. Jesse convened his grand jury in secret and presented four of the six officers who had testified in the Carousel trial. By unanimous vote, the grand jury indicted Ginger Redfield on four counts of promoting prostitution by “knowingly enticing, causing, persuading, or encouraging another person to become a prostitute,” and “having control over a place and intentionally permitting another person to use said place for prostitution.” The maximum penalty for each count was a fine of $5,000 and ten years in prison, or both.
Jesse took the sealed indictment to the chambers of Judge Oliphant and asked him to read it. He needed a favor. The law required the defendant to be personally served with a copy of the indictment, but Fats Bowman could not be counted on. Judge Oliphant called the sheriff, who was notoriously hard to find, and was told the boss was out of town. Chief Deputy Kilgore was running the office that morning and the judge asked him to stop by his chambers immediately. When he arrived half an hour later, Jesse handed him the indictment. Judge Oliphant ordered him to serve it on Ginger Redfield, arrest her, and take her to the jail. Bail was set at $15,000.
* * *
Joshua Burch was at his desk when the call came from Ginger. In a voice that was remarkably calm, she described being arrested at her office at O’Malley’s, handcuffed even, led by Kilgore to his patrol car, placed in the rear seat, and driven to the jail where they processed her, took her mug shot, and put her in the only cell for women. It was quite humiliating, but she seemed unfazed.
Burch took off for the jail, smiling all the way at the prospect of another high-profile case. He could almost see the headlines.
Ginger was waiting in a small room where the attorneys met with their clients. She had refused to change into the standard orange jumpsuit and was still wearing a dress and heels. Burch read the indictment with a grim face, and said, “This is nothing but trouble.”
“Is that the best you can do? Of course it’s trouble. Otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here in jail. When can you get me out?”
“Soon. I’ve already called a bondsman. How fast can you get a thousand bucks in cash?”
“My brother’s on the way.”
“Good. I’ll get you out in a few hours.”