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| Posted on Thursday, July 18 @ 22:35:53 PDT |
"After we set the price and I agreed to his terms, he pointed at the glitter girls and sort of went, Which one do you favor?' I didn't answer, and he sort of called out to one of them." Her name was Heidi.
"He said, Heidi, love, why don't you spend some quality time with Marcus here?'"
Heidi smiled at Marcus, then ran her tongue all around her lips, got up and took him by the hand, and led him back into the living room, where they kissed and felt each other out for hours. At one point he had her pressed into the speakers, grinding her from behind.
She leaned her head back to lick his ear, and said to him words that seemed to intertwine with the music: "You're so cool, you're so cool." And he remembers thinking to himself, "I've got it made. I'm in."
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While Marcus was moving in, Coen was trying to move out. By 1997, he had severed his ties with Shaun and had moved from E dealer to rave promoter, throwing monthly raves, sometimes handling weekly club nights at night spots in Scottsdale, downtown Phoenix and Tempe.
But later that year, when Coen wanted to do a couple of raves featuring A-list DJ talent, Shaun heard he was looking for investors and offered to both invest in the raves and get him a deal through promoter connections in the U.
K. His DJ connections never came through, but Shaun's money did. Coen says Shaun's investments were legitimate. But thinking back, he remembers: "Shaun always wanted to be paid in checks drawn on a business account, rather than in cash."
From 1998 to 2000, Coen admits, he and Shaun did share a laundering arrangement: Shaun would transfer cash to Coen, who in turn would give him a check for 90 percent of the cash he'd received. The benefits to Coen were twofold: First, he got to keep 10 percent of whatever Shaun gave him; and second, he got investment money for his raves and club nights. If Shaun invested 10 grand — the most he ever put in — Shaun got nine grand back. And if the event made money, Shaun could actually profit on his investment, at the same 90 percent ratio.
Shaun almost always asked to be paid in checks drawn on a business account, Coen claims, logged as "promotional services" or "entertainment consulting."
Attwood reportedly kept his street-level co-conspirators in apartments and townhomes that he financed under their names throughout the Valley, where they would run their operations. "They would be supplied an apartment," Will says. "Places like the Quads [in Tempe] and numerous other apartment complexes which were many times kind of overrun — a funnel of these fuckin' apartments per apartment complex.
It's kind of a terrorist method, I guess, these cells. If you don't know about each other, you're not going to get busted. You know each other, but you're not associated with one another."
The door to the courtroom opens and Cody Bates strides in wearing a white tee shirt and blue jeans. His brother and mother are with him. He buries his hands in his pockets and sighs noticeably when the judge rolls into the room. His public defender isn't present, but Cody stands tall in the back of the courtroom as he addresses Judge Wilkinson. He makes an unexpected announcement. "I'd like to self-surrender myself back into custody at this time, have my bond exonerated and back to mother directly today," he says. "I'm attempting to hire private counsel with bond money." His bond was $50,000.
The bailiff pulls out handcuffs; Cody takes a sip of water and hugs his mother. As they embrace, he whispers, "Bye, Mom. I'm staying alive. I'm going to jail, but I'm safe."
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