The US brothel empire and the ex-detective, always one step ahead of the law

The complaints from neighbours about prostitution flourishing behind the Brooklyn apartment’s thin walls had been flowing into the vice squad for months. Men, arriving at all hours, were asked at the door which nationality of women they preferred: “Brazil? Peru?”

Police officers swooped in one day in September 2017, slamming through the door with a battering ram, but they left empty-handed. The brothel on the border of Gowanus and Park Slope had quietly closed down before the raid, just as had happened with several other brothels around the borough, gone dark right before police showed up.

The brothel empire was always one step ahead of the law.

Last week, prosecutors disclosed why: They said the brothels were run by a retired police detective who had been repeatedly tipped off about planned raids by officers on the force, revealing one of the worst corruption scandals to hit the New York Police Department in years.

The retired detective, Ludwig Paz, 51, was arrested and accused of running a broad and complex syndicate of prostitution and gambling that spanned Brooklyn and Queens and brought in millions of dollars. Three sergeants, two detectives and two officers were also charged. Two other officers were stripped of their guns and shields and placed on administrative duty. Dozens of civilians were arrested, and more are being sought.

According to prosecutors, an apartment in this building, centre, in Park Slope, Brooklyn, was used as a brothel, Sep 14, 2018. The New York Times

Paz, as portrayed by prosecutors, represents an unusual breed: a vice detective who kept a clean record until he retired, only to use his law-enforcement background to become the very strain of crime lord that he once was supposed to stamp out.

“Because of his familiarity with the tools of the trade and vice — and how to investigate these kind of enterprises — he kind of became expert,” said a law enforcement official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because he was not authorised to discuss the case. “He figured, wow, he can make a lot of money.”

City officials were quick to claim credit for smashing the brothel-and-gambling ring, saying that the arrests offered evidence that the Police Department could police itself. Still, Paz’s apparent success at evading detection for years underscores the enduring power of the “blue wall of silence,” whereby officers stay quiet about the misdeeds of their colleagues.

The case also casts new doubt on the department’s Internal Affairs Bureau, which has in the past faced questions about its anti-corruption programmes and has a spotty record of uncovering major malfeasance.

Department officials defended their anti-corruption programs, but acknowledged that the Paz case was prompting them to examine whether they need to put new ones in place.

Paz is in protective custody in jail, and his lawyer declined to be interviewed for this article. But his rise and fall was pieced together by reporters for The New York Times who conducted dozens of interviews with current and former law enforcement personnel, Paz’s family members and others. The reporters also visited locations of brothels and gambling parlours across the city.

The interviews and court records portrayed a crime boss who relied upon seven police officers he had met over his years on the job to be his crew — his legmen, his doormen, his bagmen.

Most important, they were Paz’s inside men, tipping him off to raids and betraying one of the most sacred trusts in law enforcement: the identities of undercover officers. Wiretaps revealed Paz’s contacts with the officers on the force who were later arrested and accused of being his accomplices. The contents of the wiretaps were recounted to The Times by senior law enforcement officials.

New York Police Sgt Cliff Nieves, second from left, is one of three sergeants, two detectives and two officers charged in a prostitution and gambling ring, in New York, Sep 13, 2018. The New York Times

In the end, the “blue wall” finally cracked. The whistle-blower was a fellow officer who called the Internal Affairs Bureau with a tip.

— “These guys were pretty blatant.”

The women’s pictures appeared on Backpage.com and other sites notorious in the sex trafficking world. Selfies, grinning and topless. “I’m a fun, flirty, sexy & bubbly girl who just wants to hang out and have some fun,” one ad read.

She listed her location: an apartment on Fourth Avenue near 11th Street in Brooklyn, on the border between Gowanus and Park Slope.

This was how Paz attracted customers for his syndicate, police said. New ones arrived looking for the women advertised on their phones, only to be met by a bizarre requirement.

They were ordered to drop their pants and submit to a fondling before engaging with prostitutes. The screening was Paz’s idea, police said, a clever way to weed out undercover officers. Paz knew that undercover police officers are barred from exposing themselves in interactions with prostitutes.

After submitting to the screening, and the vast majority did, the customer paid, was handed a playing card as a receipt and proceeded to the next room to select a prostitute, police said.

A 15-minute session cost $40, a full hour, $160 or more.

The syndicate operated at least seven of these brothels, along with “pop-up” rooms advertised on Backpage.

In Brooklyn, this boom in brothels like the one on Fourth Avenue was playing out alongside gentrification.

“These guys were pretty blatant,” said a worker at a nearby business who asked to remain anonymous. “You’d see a half dozen guys coming and going at the same time — I always wondered why it was so obvious.”

Paz was married, and he and his wife, Sonia, and their young son, Ludwig Raphael, lived in the same small building as Paz’s parents.

— A new love, but then bankruptcy.

Police Officer Giancarlo Raspanti, in baseball cap, at his arraignment in State Supreme Court in Queens, Sep 13, 2018. The New York Times

But by the mid-2000s, Paz’s family life began to crumble. He had met another woman, apparently through his work on the vice squad.

Law enforcement officials said the woman, Arelis Peralta, was inside a brothel that the vice squad raided, though they did not say why she was there. Paz let her slip out the back door when police arrived, the officials said.

By November 2006, he had moved to a single-family house in Ozone Park, Queens, with Peralta.

Peralta, who was arrested last week along with Paz, did not respond to requests for comment.

Like a lot of others in 2008, Paz was swept into the financial crisis, failing to make monthly payments on his subprime mortgage loans and filing for bankruptcy.

Paz owed more than $690,000 on subprime mortgages, according to court records. That same year, he earned $120,000 on his police salary, with overtime.

On a later wiretap, the law enforcement official said, he was heard telling an associate that he started working in prostitution in 2008 — not as an arresting officer, but as a player.

He retired in 2010. “Twenty and out,” officers call it, the club of retirees who leave as soon as their pension kicks in at 20 years.

Wednesday, Sep 12: This time, there were no warnings.

Police waited until 1 pm, when the brothels were open for business, and struck three of them quickly, arresting everyone they found.

The raids were the culmination of an investigation that started with a 2015 telephone tip to the Internal Affairs Bureau. It came from a police officer.

Thousands of hours of surveillance and recordings of calls had been collected. The investigation took so long because of its secrecy, police said. Policing the police without tipping off the officers brings its challenges.

Still, a police spokesman, Phillip Walzak, said the department was investigating whether there were instances when the crimes described in the case could have been detected sooner.

“Thus far those efforts have not identified such an instance,” Walzak said. Internal Affairs routinely conducts integrity tests in search of corruption, he said. “Those tests are more frequent and much improved from years past,” he said.

Paz and the arrested officers all entered pleas of not guilty last week.

© 2018 New York Times News Service