A “Hard-Boiled” reporter sees “Perversion in the City” through the fictional eyes of Paul Malone
April 21, 2003. A gunmetal gray pall hung
over the city. On the same
day an e-mail
exchange took place between
Councilwoman
Connie Ladenburg and Assistant
Police Chief
Catherine “Big Bird” Woodard.
“From: Woodard, Catherine
Sent: Monday, April 21, 2003 12:08 PM
To: Ladenburg, Connie
Subject: Escort Service
(Lt.) Mike Miller gave me a little more information
today about your friendly
neighborhood escort
service at 7034 S. Alaska.
The woman's name
who manages the business
is Alycia (last
name in our files). She
advertises in the
Tribune, and perhaps on
the internet, but
that cannot be confirmed.
SID has no solid
information to indicate
that drugs are being
sold from the business,
and after checking
with informants, no one
is aware of anyone
doing drugs there. The
informants also do
not know anyone to connect
with to get inside.
Tax and License has no
business license for
the premises or record
of anyone doing business
there, and you know that
T&L are getting
out of the enforcement
business.
SID will plan a Knock and Talk and see what
they can see (and hear
and smell). The biggest
problem as I explained
last week is that
the Prosecutor's Office
will not charge on
anything that does not
fit into the predetermined
box of prohibited language
for offering/accepting
sex acts for money. They
speak in code unique
to their business or to
their industry specifically
so they don't get caught,
so the alternative
is to have an informant
actually engage in
the activity to verify,
which is not an acceptable
use of an informant. Perhaps
the SID officers
will unravel something
at the Knock and Talk
that they can sink their
teeth into. I will
let you know what they
find."
“From: Ladenburg, Connie
Sent: Tuesday, April 22, 2003 7:05 PM
Catherine,
To say the least, this is very frustrating.
I am planning on talking
to someone I know
that has a whole bunch
of prosecution experience
to see what he has to say.
I can't believe
that our hands are tied.
Maybe some laws
need to be improved. I
am more than a little
concerned about my district.
Let's stay in
touch."
Four days later Tacoma Police Chief Brame
offed his wife. The e-mails were lost in
death.
My name is Paul Malone. I put out a rag some
city fathers like to call
TAGRO. That’s the
city’s highly prized Viagra
for processed
human waste. It will grow
anything they say.
Four years later the Ameche trilled. The
caller claimed he was Wendell “Bud” White;
the omnificent “LA Confidential” protector
of all women no matter their ilk.
White said he’d seen my February 23rd edition asking if Allicia’s escort service
has a valid City of Tacoma
Business license.
He jawed. I listened.
His tale of woe was classic Tacoma.
His allegations read like a Heidi Fleiss
scandal.
The Washington State Patrol documented e-mails
had been regurgitated.
“This place ain’t about women being hired
to act as arm candy for
lonely out-of-towners.
All this place is about
is hard-core prostitution
and organized criminal
activity.”
White spewed on.
“Over the last few years I was trying to
help a broad get off meth. She worked at
this joint on and off as an escort. She made it very clear that ‘services’ required
were whatever perversion
one desired.”
Fleur-de-lis. Whatever you desire!
He didn’t pull any punches.
“Over the years she introduced me to a passel
of low-lifes and freaks
that were affiliated
with this scum business.
She told me about
Hitler type men who would
pay women to feed
them their own feces. She
told me about a
local sicko who wanted
a woman to come to
his door wearing combat
boots and kick him
in the groin as hard as
she could. If she
caused a substantial amount
of pain and suffering
this demented bastard would
invite her over
the next day and pay her
$160 an hour to
play video games with him.
“
“She also made it clear that all the activities
were done with the full
knowledge of management.
The more bizarre and perverted
the more likely
management would be involved.”
White continued to spill his pain.
“This woman went by the escort name of Carrie
or Amanda. She told me some details about
her calls with local lawyers, businessmen,
and even cops. While always evasive when
I asked her about local police, she indicated
that there was at least one Olympia police
officer involved and a Washington State Patrolman. She was a particular favorite of one local
lawyer, married to a Pierce
County prosecutor,
who was occasionally a
pro-tem judge at a
local municipality.”
“She always alluded that they would get tipped
off if things were going
to get hot.”
“She said that he liked to wear her stockings
and heels and fancied that he had great legs.
Then there were stories of men who paid to
smell her feet and how she had shouldn’t
wear sox for a day to insure they were happy.
She told me a story about a man wearing purple
lingerie that wanted to be tied down and
whipped. He said he could only see escorts
during the day because his wife would be
at work.”
If anybody wasn’t whipped it was White.
He had my rapt attention.
I made an appointment to meet with White.
I called Jodie Trueblood, the head of Tax
and Licensing.
“Do the escort services located in Tacoma
and that advertise in the
Trib have business
licenses”, I asked.
She has yet to answer my question.
As I pecked out this tale of woe, I turned
to my live-in Molly Maguire
and lamented,
“This isn’t the end of
this story. Sean Robinson
should have written it.”
(To be continued next Friday.)
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