Chapter 18
Queen of New York
“This is Lisa Stewart, reporting live from the Foley Square Federal Courthouse, where the notorious Anari Simpson’s trial is taking place. Ms. Simpson stands accused of running Supreme Clientele, a roundtable that consists of some of the most wanted drug lords in the United States.
“Although the rest of the roundtable members are unknown, Zya Miller, one of the roundtable’s elite, is the key witness in the prosecution’s case. She is speculated to be responsible for more than six percent of the cocaine imported into the United States.
“This may be the biggest drug trial since the infamous D.C. trial of Rayful Edmonds. The court marshals have been ordered to stand armed in front of the courthouse, and the federal government has provided a bulletproof glass for the jurors to sit behind. These precautions prove that Anari Simpson really is a woman to be feared.”
Lonnie Wade approached the courthouse, and couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw how many people were congregated outside. There were thousands of people chanting and supporting Anari, and news reporters and cameras were scattered everywhere. They were calling this the trial of the century, and everybody wanted to be a part of it. Anari’s case was the type that detectives, lawyers, and judges hoped their entire lives to receive. If convicted, her case was sure to boost everybody’s career. Wade maneuvered his way through the crowd.
“Detective Wade . . . Detective Lonnie Wade!”
He turned around to see who was calling his name, and a microphone was shoved in his face. “Lisa Stewart with the New York Post. What do you think will be the outcome of this trial? As the arresting officer in the case, how much evidence do you actually have on Ms. Simpson?”
“No comment,” Wade declared as he pushed the mic from his face and continued to make his way through the crowd. There was no way he was willing to make any type of statement. He didn’t want to jeopardize the case by saying the wrong thing, so he kept his mouth shut. Wade walked through the crowded halls of the courthouse.
“Hey, Wade, have you seen the paper?” Agent Matthews aka Buggy asked as he approached him. He handed him a newspaper. Wade opened it up and read:
ANARI SIMPSON VS. ZYA MILLER: WHO IS THE QUEEN OF N.Y.?
“Keep flipping,” Agent Matthews stated with amusement in his voice. Lonnie turned the page and saw headline after headline chronicling Anari’s trial.
THE QUEEN BEE: A TIMELINE OF ANARI SIMPSON’S DRUG CAREER
IS THIS THE END OF THE BEAUTIFUL QUEEN PEN?
Lonnie Wade threw the paper to the ground and stomped toward the courtroom with Matthews by his side.
“That shit is going to sway the jury. They are making this seem like a fight for the title between Zya and Anari,” Wade said as he entered the courtroom.
There was chatter in the courthouse, and everybody seemed to be whispering facts and falsehoods about the case. Every seat in the room was taken. People were bunched up on the wooden seats, just to get a peek at the woman who had reigned in the streets. This was the first time that people had been able to put a face to the name. Anari had been known as Tony throughout her reign, and everyone in the room was shocked to finally know the truth: Tony is a woman.
Anari sat next to Anderson Wallace and smiled for the cameras. She figured if she was going to be seen, she might as well be looking good. She wore a white, tailor-fitted, Ferragamo pantsuit. The diamonds that cluttered her ears, wrists, and neckline made her appear to sparkle for her new audience. She was more like a celebrity than a queen pen, and no one wanted to believe that the glamorous woman who sat before them was a cold-hearted killer.
Lonnie Wade was disgusted by how comfortable Anari looked as she sat in her seat and talked quietly with her lawyer. This bitch is sitting up there like she’s not on trial for her life, he thought.
Anari turned around and met eyes with the detective. They stared each other down, but Anari ended the staring contest by turning away. In the first pew behind the defense section sat a row full of people. The rest of Supreme Clientele was scattered throughout the courtroom.
Everybody was at her trial. It was more like a red carpet event than a court case. Famous rappers and singers walked through the doors left and right. Hip Hop’s finest were in attendance, and they had all come to support Anari and show her love throughout her case. The newspapers had been calling the trial a star-studded event and the place to be. Today was by far the most eventful day, because it was the day that Zya was supposed to take the stand. The reporters were having a field day.
It had been three months since Anari’s arrest, and the world had waited patiently for her to be tried. Her face had been plastered on every news station in the world, and her story had been told and retold a thousand times. The novel Dirty Money, which was based on Anari’s life, flew off the shelves and became a street classic. The media played on Anari’s friendship with Zya, and had people picking sides on which woman they supported.
The other members of Supreme Clientele were safe and sound. Neither Zya nor Anari ever mentioned their names. All the media knew was that Zya and Anari had once been good friends and made money together through their drug empire. Now Zya and Anari were adversaries, each one fighting to stay on top. The streets called Zya a snitch, and she knew that she would have to leave the country right after the trial was over. Her face was national news, and anywhere she went, people would know what she had done.
After today, I won’t be able to go anywhere without people knowing who I am. Lonnie might as well have burned an S in my forehead, because everybody is gonna know that I ratted Anari out, Zya thought as she waited in the prosecutor’s office, tapping her foot nervously against the ground. Her heart was heavy, and over the past couple of months, she had been sick from stress. She had lost almost everybody in her life that she cared about.
It turned out that Jules hadn’t even done anything wrong. She had turned her back on him because of a misunderstanding, and the guilt from that chewed at her every day. Vita was dead and had suffered miserably from her drug addiction. I was so busy hustling that I wasn’t there for her. I should have helped her.
Snow was locked up for the rest of his life. She had visited him frequently, and her heart broke every time she saw him behind the glass. She was in love with him, but the fact that she would never be able to see him free again haunted her.
Now she was getting ready to send the only person she had left to prison. Anari had given Zya her friendship, and in return, Zya was giving her betrayal. Zya touched her stomach and thought about the baby that she was carrying. She was three months pregnant with Snow’s seed, and it was the only piece of sanity she had left.
“You ready?” Lonnie Wade asked as he entered the room.
Zya nodded her head and whispered, “Yes.”
Lonnie looked at Zya and could see the fatigue and worry in her face. It was the first time he thought about how the trial was affecting her. As she got up to walk by him, he grabbed her hand and stopped her from leaving the room.
“Zya, thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Don’t thank me. If you didn’t have a murder over my head, I wouldn’t have helped you do shit,” she responded coldly.
Wade laughed and replied, “You still have some sort of allegiance to Anari. She is a murderer, so do yourself a favor. Don’t feel too bad.”
Zya frowned and replied, “You keep calling her a murderer, but she is on trial for a drug charge. Tell me. What do you have against her?”
Wade didn’t reply. He didn’t want to reveal his personal reasons for wanting Anari. He changed the subject and said, “Let’s go.” He grabbed Zya’s arm and led the way to the courtroom.
“The prosecution would like to call Zya Miller to the stand.” The doors to the courtroom opened, and Zya stood there as lights flashed in her face. Chatter and whispers erupted as everyone in the place turned to stare at Zya as she walked in. Her Manolo Blahniks clicked on the floor as she walked up the aisle, and her black Gucci dress suit complemented her slightly pregnant figure. Her hair was neatly pulled back in a bun, and she wore pearls to accessorize.
“Get a picture of her outfit. We’ll run hers next to Anari’s to see who was best dressed,” instructed a reporter.
Wade shook his head in disgust and watched as every head in the courtroom looked back and forth between Zya and Anari. Both women were strikingly beautiful, and they looked liked they should be on a runway rather than going against one another in a court of law.
The bailiff approached Zya and she lifted her right hand. “Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do,” she agreed.
“You may take your seat, Ms. Miller,” the judge instructed.
Zya closed her eyes and breathed deeply to calm her nerves. Anari looked at her, and could see that Zya was stressed. She smiled smugly to herself, knowing that she had caused Zya to lose sleep.
“Could you please state your name for the court’s transcript?” Rachel Evans, the District Attorney of New York, asked.
“Zya Miller.”
“Ms. Miller, were you directly involved with Supreme Clientele?”
“Yes,” Zya answered as she sat poised in her seat, her eyes directly on the prosecutor.
“What was your involvement?”
“I was the member of the table that had the coke connect.”
“Coke connect? By that you mean you got the cocaine for the table?”
“Yes,” Zya replied.
“Approximately how much cocaine?”
“I transported five hundred kilos of coke every month from overseas to the United States,” Zya admitted.
“Daaamn!!” someone shouted from the crowd. There were gasps and chatter throughout the room, and the judge banged his gavel to get the crowd under control.
Anari sat back in her chair, knowing that the jury was watching her every move. She stared intently at Zya and shook her head in contempt. She hated snitches, and couldn’t believe that Zya was getting ready to give her up.
“Ms. Miller,” the district attorney said as she walked over to the defense table. “What part did Anari Simpson play in this drug transaction?”
Anari looked at Zya, and as their eyes met, Zya felt the tears threaten to fall. They stared intently at one another, and Zya opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Ms. Miller, answer the question,” the judge instructed.
“What part did Anari Simpson play in this drug transaction?” Ms. Evans repeated.
I can’t do this. I’d rather go to prison than be a mu’fuckin’ snitch, Zya thought.
Zya shook her head and replied, “None.”
“Excuse me?” the district attorney asked as she looked from Lonnie Wade to Zya and then back to the judge.
“She played no role in the drug transaction. It was all me. I don’t even know the defendant,” Zya stated firmly.
The courtroom erupted in conversation, and Lonnie Wade stood up angrily and shouted, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Ms. Miller, do you know the penalty for perjury?” the D.A. threatened.
Zya snapped back, “Yeah, bitch. It can’t be any worse than the penalty for murder. I do not know the defendant. I was responsible for the drug transactions.”
Rachel Evans turned red and yelled, “And Supreme Clientele?”
“Supreme Clientele consists of myself, Torey Smith aka Snow, Tyrone Watson aka Black Ty, Julius Carter aka Jules, Arvita Simmons, and Lonnie Wade. All of the members are now dead or doing life in jail—all except for myself and Detective Lonnie Wade. Say hi, Wade,” Zya stated with a smirk as she waved at Lonnie Wade.
All of the people sitting in the courtroom looked back at the Lonnie Wade and began to speculate about what Zya had just said. With her statement, she had just exonerated Anari Simpson and all the other members of the table from any involvement in Supreme Clientele. She had just taken the fall for the whole cartel.
“And Ms. Simpson’s involvement was?” Rachel Evans was pushing to connect the dots between Supreme Clientele and Anari. She could feel the case slipping right out of her hands.
“The defendant was not involved. I disguised my identity by using the name Tony when I conducted business,” Zya said, taking the blame for all of the charges. News columnists wrote frantically, trying to keep up with every word, and the crowd was unable to contain their astonished comments.
Anari’s expression remained cold as she stared at Zya sitting on the stand. She leaned over to Anderson Wallace and whispered, “Get Snow taken care of. Make sure the hit is right.”
“Your Honor!” Ms. Evans yelled. “I would like to request a three-month hold on this trial. This witness has hurt our case significantly.”
Anderson Wallace stood up and said, “Your Honor, I must object. My client is guaranteed a speedy trial by the United States Constitution. If Ms. Miller is the only witness that the prosecution has against Ms. Simpson, that is their mistake. In fact, I would like to ask for an immediate dismissal.”
The judge shook his head in disgust as he realized that the trial had just taken a turn for the worse. “I’m sorry, Ms. Evans. I cannot grant your request. Mr. Wallace, I also deny your request for a dismissal. Ms. Simpson will still be tried based on the evidence that the State has presented, no matter how little.”
He looked down at Zya and yelled, “Remove the witness from the stand!”
Lonnie Wade got up and walked over to Zya. He was livid. “You’re going to rot underneath the jail by the time I’m finished with you,” he threatened as he placed her in cuffs and shoved her out of the courtroom.
Torey Snow sat in the prison cell, staring at the letter he had received from Zya. She had told him everything about Lonnie Wade, and told him that she had decided not to snitch. She told him that she would include his name as a member of the roundtable, but it didn’t matter since he had two consecutive life sentences.
Snow was proud of Zya for maintaining the code of the streets, but he was also worried about his unborn child. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to be a part of his child’s life, and was sure that Lonnie Wade was going to send Zya Upstate. They would be locked up for the remainder of their natural lives, and he didn’t want his child to be thrown into the system. He contacted his mother, who decided that she would adopt the child right after Zya gave birth.
Snow thought about Zya often. She was his woman, and he loved her more than he loved himself. Thinking about her hurt him to the depths of his soul, so Snow quickly learned to block out all thoughts of his life on the outside. There was no point in thinking about what his life used to be like because it would never be like that again. He had to get used to life on the inside. He slept, ate, and even showered when another man told him to. He was truly state property, and he was slowly adjusting to the fucked up circumstances that his life had become.
Snow got up and followed the line of inmates from their cell blocks into the shower. He stepped into the foggy area and carried his soap on a rope to a shower head and began to wash his muscular body. The steam from the hot water made it hard to see. As he washed his body, he felt a sharp object puncture his body. He grabbed the hand that held the object and slammed the white man repeatedly against the hard brick wall. His fist pummeled the man’s face, but he was restrained by prison guards quickly. The man took advantage of the opportunity. He picked the shank up from the shower floor and stuck Snow with it repeatedly, causing him to fall to the ground. Blood came from Snow’s mouth as his naked body lost consciousness.
Wade picked up the newspaper and read the front page headline. SUPREME CLIENTELE MEMBER TOREY SMITH STABBED IN PRISON FIGHT: BODY DISAPPEARS FROM HOSPITAL.
Wade smiled to himself. I wonder if Zya’s heard the news. Anari probably had her little boyfriend hit after she took the stand against her, Wade thought. He was glad that Zya had gotten what was coming to her. After that shit she pulled in the courtroom ...
His thoughts were interrupted as his Lieutenant came walking into the room with two rookie cops standing by his side.
“I warned you, Wade!” he yelled.
“What are you talking about?” Lonnie asked. The two officers walked around Wade’s desk and pulled him to his feet. “What the fuck is going on?” Wade asked as his eyes bucked open.
“You’re under arrest,” one of the officers said.
“For what?” he yelled as he jerked wildly, trying to free himself.
“For your illegal participation in Supreme Clientele,” the Lieutenant answered harshly as he threw pictures of Wade standing next to Zya on the table.
Jones continued, “We have your phone records, showing that you were contacting Zya Miller frequently. Calls that weren’t authorized or documented.”
“Wait! Lieutenant Jones!” Lonnie yelled as he was handcuffed and escorted out of the police station. “It’s not what it looks like.” Those were the last words Wade said before he was hit over the head with a billy club and was carried off.
Anari walked through the crowd that had accumulated outside the courthouse. Everyone was anxiously awaiting the jury’s decision. Dozens of people followed her with cameras. Reporters from almost every news and entertainment station in the country were trying to get an exclusive interview.
“What up? This is Sway from MTV News, reporting live from the Anari Simpson court case in New York City. The courthouse is packed today as everyone waits to see what verdict the jury will come back with. As soon as the decision is in, you’ll know first. We’re going to keep you, the people at home, updated on what’s going on here at the trial of the century,” Sway said as he walked alongside Anari, her entourage, and the dozens of news reporters.
He looked to Anari and said, “I’m behind you all the way. Good luck.”
Although Anari didn’t know him personally, she smiled and replied, “Thank you.” Anari made her way into the courtroom and took her seat at the defense table.
The judge entered the packed courtroom and an abundance of “shhh” echoed throughout the place. The jury filed in one by one, and Anari gripped Wallace’s hand as she looked at the people who held her life in their hands. She was breathing erratically as she tried to remain calm. She crossed her fingers and looked back at Von, who was sitting in the back of the courtroom with their five-year-old daughter sitting on his lap. Anari smiled as her daughter, LaTanya, waved innocently. Anari had named her daughter after her best friend who had died at the hands of the game. She raised her head to the sky, knowing that Tanya was looking down on her.
“Will the defendant please rise?” the judge asked.
Anari stood, closed her eyes, and lowered her head to the table, beginning to pray.
Please, God, I have been through so much in the past seven years. My heart was broken with the death of my son, and it took me a long time to rebuild my life. I know that everything I do is not right, but no one is perfect. I know that I am not without sin, but I am asking You now to give me another chance. I played the hand that You dealt me, and did what I had to do to survive. Let no man judge me, because I feel that You are the only one great enough to do so.
Please . . . if I get out of this, I will retire from the game. I will never touch another drug in my life. I will sit back with my family and enjoy my life with them. I will leave the game alone and be a mother and wife to my family.
Anari raised her head, and tears graced her face. It was the first time in a long time that she had shown weakness. She had buried her emotions when her son was murdered and she first entered the game, but she had meant what she said. If she got off, she was going to get out of the game and leave the malicious, fucked up part of the world alone. She planned on enjoying her money and spending as much time as possible with her beautiful daughter and husband. I’ll let Von handle the drug game, and I’ll finally be able to just be wifey, she thought.
The foreman of the jury stood, and the courtroom was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “We, the people of this jury, find Anari Simpson . . .” Anari held her breath as she waited for the last words. An eternity seemed to pass before she heard the foreman say, “Not guilty on all counts.”
Everyone in the courtroom roared in applause and congratulations. Anari fell back into her chair in disbelief, and a tear of joy slid down her face.
Anderson Wallace embraced her and said, “You really are untouchable.”
Anari laughed and replied, “You really are as good as you say you are.”
Lights and cameras flashed as everyone took picture after picture of her. She ran to the back of the room, where her daughter was waiting with her arms outstretched. She picked her up and kissed her cheeks a thousand times as Von wrapped his arm around his wife.
“I love you, Mommy,” her daughter said sweetly.
Anari laughed to release some of the joy she felt and replied, “Mommy loves you too.” She looked around at all the people cheering for her, and her heart was finally soothed. The cold front that she had to build after her son was murdered dissolved, and she finally felt a sense of healing and happiness. Her struggle and heartache was finally over. She didn’t have to hide out or conceal her identity anymore, because the world already knew.
“You ready to get out of here?” Von asked her.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Anari replied. Anari made eye contact with all of the Supreme Clientele members.
Jimmy Ross from Miami nodded his head, acknowledging her acquittal.
Khadafi Langston from the Midwest smiled and slowly clapped as he watched her walk by.
Emilio Estes from the West Coast kept his serious expression, but the slight wink he gave her and the look in his eyes revealed his happiness for her.
Mr. Castello raised a cigar in the air and laughed heartily.
Anderson Wallace held up his briefcase and signaled for her to call him. The only member of the roundtable who was missing was Zya, and Anari knew exactly where she was headed. She looked back at the courtroom one last time and promised herself that she would never be put in that situation again.
I am done with the game. It’s time for me to retire. I just have one more thing that I need to handle. One more score to settle, then I am out . . . for good.