When I first got out of law school, Mike was my accountant, and he did my tax returns. Years later, when my criminal clients who had years of unfiled tax returns asked me for advice, I sent them to Mike, who volunteered that he was running a domestic money laundering operation (described in detail in Part 44 of Confessions).

Mike soon became a confident to one of my clients, Marie, a woman who was one of the kingpins. She represented  the Human Resources section of the organisation, vetting and hiring working mariners for the sailboat voyages where marijuana was smuggled into the United States during what always appeared to be Caribbean vacation trips of young couples on holiday.

Marie, who fancied herself an experienced  chef, and who had prior experience as both a bartender and working in an upscale Coral Gables restaurant, wanted to open her own place. There was a down-at-the heels
restaurant south of Miami, called Savannah Moon. With Mike's help, she and members of the organisation proceeded to purchase the facility, and to upgrade it to their strict standards. After all, these people had been patronising the best restaurants in the world for years, having an inexhaustible supply of disposable income, and they wanted their own restaurant to be the best.

Mike assisted with purchasing, and worked with the contractor to ensure that the results would not only be physically impressive, but state of the art as to the kitchen facilities. His relationship with the restaurant began to turn into that of general manager, rather than just its accountant.

What I learned from this episode is that most criminal clients, once they attained a certain degree of affluence, want sincerely to become that part of that segment of mainstream America who are the proud owners of a business. The money (criminal profits) itself is not an end, but a means to acquire  power and legitimacy. They wanted to be known as proprietors of a successful, ongoing business, where they could show off. It is no less than the need to impress their circle of friends, including  competing criminal groups, as well as the world at large. Does it demonstrate a need for approval? I cannot say, but whenever criminals operate above the waterline, they increase the risk that they will be deemed powerful, come to the attention of law enforcement, and, in the end, arrested.

The Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and the US Customs Service both wanted to catch these clients very badly; they had been investigating them for several years, because some of the members had been smugglers since they were teenagers. When they learned that these targets were now poised to open a legitimate business, they began to pay close attention to the progress of construction, and waited patiently for the opening that they knew would soon occur.

On the night of the restaurant opening, a broad cross-section of Miami's criminal underground were invited to see the product of my clients' labors, and they all turned out to partake of the food and the festivities laid on to impress them. It was a major event, and the clients spared no expense.

But there were others who came that did not intend to sample the cuisine; law enforcement agents quietly
entered the huge parking area (the restaurant was at the end of a suburban shopping mall, and parking facilities were extensive) and began writing down all the automobile license plate numbers of the patrons. You see, they knew that in attendance would be a rogues' gallery of the city's drug trafficking elite, as the owners, like many other successful smugglers, liked to show off to their competition. They also invited people who assisted them in fringe matters, legitimate businessmen for whom the free-spending smugglers were favoured clients of  goods and services.

Mike became a sort of managing agent for the restaurant. At one time, it was reportedly the seventh-highest grossing restaurant in the United States. One wonders just how much of that was
drug proceeds fed into the cash register, masquerading as legitimate receipts.

Did he enjoy the fruits of his labors? Well, every day he gave his girlfriend a crisp one-hundred dollar bill to spend on dinner, which I gather was for an opulent gourmet meal for two each night. Did the clients miss the money? I imagine it was just part of the cost of doing business in a cash operation.

Unfortunately, a few years later, the clients were all either on the run, or arrested, and cooperating with  law enforcement agencies. Also, some of Mike's other clients were talking to the authorities. it could only get ugly from here on in.

Next Week: can Mike's able attorney work his magic on  behalf of his fugitive client?