Mig Seyer and the Bright Yellow Briefcase
By Miguel A Reyes-Mariano
Criminality in Buffalo, NY, in mid-1990s was high, and carried a grungy, violent, drug-infested atmosphere at the end of the crack epidemic (U.S. Department of Justice, 1999). Butts, J. A. (2007). Violent crime in American cities 1986–2006. https://jeffreybutts.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/06/violentcrime2006.pdf While national crime rates began to decline in mid-90s, Buffalo experienced a peak in homicide and property crime. The Washington Post. (1997, June 2). Violent crime rate drops 7 percent nationwide. The Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1997/06/02/violent-crime-rate-drops-7-percent-nationwide/76594cab-4ee8-4b9b-939f-598c95e63090/ The Buffalo crime family—known by many names including the Magaddino family and "the Arm"—partnered with Los Angeles mobsters in late 1996 to seize Herbert Blitzstein's Vegas loan-sharking operation from the Chicago area. Giancana and Burnstein (2009)
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Previously in Chapter 1
Mig Seyer, a Buffalo social worker, acts on a premonition one September afternoon in 1996. Spotting a well-dressed man pursued by attackers, he intervenes with a stone and a rusty pipe, disabling both suspect burglers. The rescued man calls him a hero; the press names him "The Downtown Vigilante." Six months earlier, an old woman with a single yellow tooth had cast a spell on Mig, awakening something dormant in his Afro-Caribbean blood—a calling to protect others that he now embraces.
Chapter Two - The Pattel’s Private-Eye Agency
A story was developing here that would be published in the Buffalo News by the end of March 1996. This story will appear in a column alongside one dedicated to the “Adventures and Misfortunes of the Bright Yellow Briefcase.” A column covering news from different parts of Buffalo’s courthouse. In this case, the story would be about Mig Seyer, who had previously been recognized as the City's Samaritan Vigilante. The news report will cover part of the rescue of an elderly woman who later passed away at Erie County Medical Center (ECMC).
As Mig prepared to rescue the elderly woman on Friday, March 29, 1996, he was suddenly hit by a powerful rush of air, as if countless unseen hands were gripping him all over his body. He felt lightheaded, with a tightness in his chest and a buzzing in his ears. The old woman held on tightly and whispered phrases that seemed to be from no known language. It felt like an incantation or spell. Mig was stunned, breathless, and also somewhat dizzy. In fact, he did not understand the words she was saying. Then he thought she must be an immigrant, but her sincere thanks had been in English, with no accent at all.
It all lasted only a few moments, though in Mig Seyer's memory it felt like hours. She let go of his hand and finally said, “By time's flow, I decree, wherever you go, you will thrive.” Then she smiled, revealing her only tooth. Mig took out his cell phone, a tool required by the nature of his work. It had cost him a fortune, about $1,700 in January 1996, and was reserved for emergencies because the airtime was extremely expensive. As he held it, he quickly debated whether to waste minutes explaining what had happened or to take her to the nearest hospital immediately, since she had fainted after the spell. Without hesitation, he chose to take her to the hospital when he noticed traces of blood on the front of her dress. He took every precaution while carrying her, holding her as if she were a delicate antique glass.
In the emergency room at Erie County Medical Center (ECMC) in Buffalo, NY, nurses, supported by the emergency team, immediately took her in because of the bleeding. The hospital smelled of disinfectant and resignation. Inside the emergency room, doctors moved with urgency. She had been stabbed three times, deep, and professionally. The medical team was baffled: 'She shouldn't have survived this long.' But the old woman had held on, as if waiting for something. When the monitor flatlined, Mig felt it—a sharp, clean break in his chest, like a thread being cut. She was gone. And in that moment, he seemed to have an epiphany. She had walked into that ambush knowing the price. She had chosen to transfer her ancient gift to him, then stepped aside so he could walk his path… “Is this what really happened?” Mig questioned himself. Then, a police detective approached him and asked some questions.
He described the three suspects. In the end, there were more questions than answers. No one understood the motive for the robbery. The elderly woman had nothing with her: no purse, no money, no documents, as if what they were looking for wasn’t even in this world. Mig answered mechanically. But inside, a metaphysical certainty was growing without Mig being able to understand the full truth: “the old woman sacrificed herself to complete a covenant.
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After that event, the month of March went by without any further incidents. In fact, Mig's home visits almost always resulted in unfounded reports. Some cases that seemed like child abuse turned out to be traditional practices among Native American tribes who had moved from their reservations into the city. They relocated to these towns seeking better living conditions and a brighter future for their children. Similarly, several cases of children falling during street games were documented, and the reports were found not to be related to domestic violence.
During his home visits in April and May, Mig's premonition served as his quiet guide. He would arrive at a house and, before crossing the threshold, feel it—that familiar tug in his stomach. A surge in his awareness told him: danger here. Abuse here. A child in need of help. In one instance, he arrived at a home to investigate a suspected fall. The eight-year-old girl greeted him at the door, her arm in a cast. Her mother claimed she had fallen from a bicycle. But Mig's premonition screamed. He could almost see it—the future if he did nothing. The girl's arm was broken again, and worse. Broken bones turning into broken spirits.
'Can I see the bicycle?' he asked casually. The mother's face shifted. That was enough. The premonition had been correct. He documented the evidence, made the call, and the girl was placed in protective custody. Each time, his gift worked. Each time, he saved someone. And each time, he felt the old woman's presence—not haunting him, but guiding him. Reminding him: 'This is your purpose now. This is what the covenant demands.'
By winter’s end, Mig had stopped questioning whether he was going crazy. He had accepted a simple truth: he was no longer an ordinary man. He was an instrument of something greater than himself. And the cost of that power was eternal vigilance — always ready to help those he could reach.
Then spring arrived with its false promise of renewed blessings. Mig kept working, walking, and saving lives, as well as managing parking fees. By summer, he had a better understanding of his new condition. His life continued its turbulent path, and by the end of September 1996, as he walked to the parking lot, he remembered the other disoriented executive he had rescued from two criminals he ought not to forget. Apparently, according to a column in the Buffalo News, he had been named the new Erie County Commissioner of the Department of Social Services.
Before the end of September, he met Mr. Ram Pattel on the 29th of that month in 1996. Mig had been transferred to the Erie County Employment Division after passing the competitive exam, receiving the “canvas” letter, and successfully passing the recruitment interview. Mr. Pattel joined the county after seven years at Catholic Charities of Buffalo, where he had served as a case manager. He had also gone through the same selection and recruitment process. Both started work in the employment department on the same day and attended the mandatory training together. Mr. Pattel was, as they say, a very “approachable” person.
After a few weeks, they started socializing and going out for coffee or lunch together. They discovered that both had served in the US Army as MP Military Police some time ago. They shared many interests, and both wanted to save money for a better future. So, Mr. Pattel suggested, as a good option, that they both take second jobs as assistants or aides to a private investigator on a part-time basis. By the end of September 1996, the aspiring private investigator Ram Pattel introduced his friend, Mig Seyer, to his wife, who was then running a private-eye agency in Buffalo, New York. A month later, in October 1996, Ram also connected his friend, Mig, with Friedman and Scott LLP, a well-known law firm in the Buffalo area. The firm mainly handles cases to which inquiries are directed to Pattel’s private investigation company.
Friedman and Scott LLP also represented the well-known Buffalo businessman Charles Torina, who at the time faced minor fines for operating for more than a decade without proper international transit permits. Charles claimed he was merely transporting old boats across the U.S. and Canada borders for the Great Lakes Marine Restoration Company, which he owns. He argued that he was bringing them to his modest Buffalo workshop, where Ontario vessels were refurbished in a warehouse on Louisiana Street in Buffalo, NY, before being sold to local boating and fishing enthusiasts. Occasionally, some were also transported to special customers in Mexico or other waters in the South America and Central America regions.
Mr. Torina provided a detailed explanation of the traffic involving his trailers and the serial numbers of the boats that were refurbished and converted from old Canadian boats into new US vessels. However, he admitted he had overlooked the paperwork for his international transit permits and fees. Technically, he was only being charged with failing to properly document the border-crossing transport operations because he had paid the import/export taxes for the goods being moved.
Although the new vessels were registered as built from old Canadian boat parts and components, the transit permit was more than 10 years overdue. This was an oversight by the authorities, as these permits are valid for five years, and enforcement was very weak during the late 1990s. However, given the volume of the small operations conducted by Mr. Torina, it was impossible to ignore this bureaucratic error.
In this context, let's briefly review the Customs agency's estimate of late payments. The Customs Self-Assessment (CSA), Partners in Protection (PIP), and the Secure Electronic Network for Travelers Rapid Inspection (SENTRI) programs include several standard fees. The breakdown includes an application fee of $25 per applicant (capped at $50 in exceptional cases), a fingerprint fee of approximately $14.50 per applicant, and a system (Dedicated Commuter Lane) fee of approximately $82.75 per vehicle—for an estimated total of $122.25 per person and per truck for travel between Canada, the United States, and Mexico. Additionally, there was a vehicle registration fee of about $42 per additional vehicle (the first vehicle is always included).
Based on these figures, over the past 10-plus years, Mr. Torina’s estimated costs could total about $855.75 for 7 trucks, plus $168 per driver, including himself and the other five drivers in his company. These amounts did not include penalties, which were ignored. At the time, late or unpaid program fees could result in consequences, but they usually did not lead to criminal fines. These unpaid fees generally affected membership status, delayed new application processing, and imposed new restrictions.
This was exactly what the U.S. Customs Service finally uncovered (after years of operating below standards) to show how this government agency failed in its duty to supervise. But even after discovering these errors after so many years, the Customs Service will keep pursuing Mr. Torina, who works hard to maintain an image of unassailable credibility through his streaked gray hair and perfect Italian attire.
However, only his personal attorney—a man with shark-like eyes, a Harvard degree, and a seven-figure salary—knew the exact details of the boat's movements across the North American borders. His lawyer also understood how carefully Charles had crafted his version of events, rehearsing it in front of bathroom mirrors. It took some time for his face to show just the right blend of confusion and indignation. This was necessary to justify his claim that everything was just a Customs bureaucratic misunderstanding with his transit permits.
On the surface, Torina seemed like a man who transported boats across the Canadian border without proper documentation. In reality, he was a cocaine trafficker who had been smuggling tons of product for fourteen years, hidden inside refurbished vessels. But Torina didn't realize it yet. The universe was arranging pieces on a chessboard. Mig Seyer would become a private investigator to uncover the truth. Torina's operation would eventually come to light. And when that moment arrived—when the evidence was uncovered—it would be Mig who connected the dots. But what neither Mig nor Torina understood was that they were playing cosmic chess. One was chosen to bring justice, the other to serve as its instrument. The universe had already decided the outcome. They were simply players moving toward their destinies.
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Mig and Ram, for their part, were still unaware of Mr. Charles Torina's case. Besides, they always had enough to do in their daily lives. Soon after Mig Seyer and Ram Pattel had worked together for nearly a year at the Erie County Department of Social Services, Mig decided to share his secret with Ram. They were having coffee during their break at a small restaurant on the corner of Main Street and Court Street in downtown Buffalo. “You know, Ram, I can foresee bad outcomes before they happen,” he said in a very low tone. “What are you talking about?” Ram replied.
They sat in the corner booth at a small restaurant on Main and Court. Mig was trembling — not from fear, but from carrying the weight alone for so long. 'Ram, I need to tell you something. I can see danger before it happens. When people are in trouble, I feel it. I see it. It's like the universe is whispering to me: act now, save this person.' Ram didn't laugh. His military background had taught him that the world held mysteries science couldn't explain. He had experienced things in the Army that defied rational explanation.
“So you're saying you're chosen?” he asked softly.
Mig looked at him, surprised. “How did you—?”
'Because,” Ram said, 'I've always believed some people are marked by something bigger than themselves. I think you might be one of them.”
It was the first time anyone had said it out loud. And Mig felt the weight shift—not vanish, but spread out. He wasn't carrying this alone anymore. Ram believed.
A few days after their conversation at the small restaurant, Mig was promoted to Employment Counselor. Ram, on the other hand, remained a Junior Employment Counselor. Despite these minor details, they both decided to join Ram’s wife’s private investigation business instead of taking part-time paralegal jobs at a law firm where their boss’s son was working at the time, in order to increase their incomes.
In Buffalo, NY, by the end of the 1990s, individuals had to meet strict New York State requirements to obtain the Private Eye License, primarily overseen by the NYS Department of State, Division of Licensing Services, under Article 7 of the General Business Law. Key requirements included being at least 25 years old, passing a written exam, undergoing a background check and fingerprinting, and demonstrating necessary experience—typically three years of investigative work or equivalent experience under the supervision of professionals in the field. Pattel's sister's assistance significantly simplified this process, reducing the experience requirement to just 18 months, as both had previously served in military police.
After working with Pattel’s sister for nearly two years, they decided to take the test. After several months of intensive study and completing all necessary paperwork, they obtained their two-year Investigators’ State Licenses through the Buffalo Police Department by the end of 1999. Additionally, both Mig and Ram completed a few semesters at Erie Community College to satisfy New York State’s criminal justice credit-hour requirements. They then passed their background checks, including criminal history reviews and fingerprinting, as required in New York.
Later, they both took and passed a State Exam to show their knowledge of relevant laws, regulations, ethics, and investigative procedures. Then their names were added to Mrs. Pattel’s bonds, a form of insurance that provides financial protection against misconduct. Finally, they both obtained their firearms licenses, enabling them to carry concealed weapons while conducting investigations. (2157)
By December 30th, 1999, after Mig Seyer and Ram Pattel received their licenses, they went out to celebrate their official second jobs—one at the county and the other as an associate private investigator, thanks to Ram Pattel's connections. That night of celebration ended at a bar on Chippewa Street in downtown Buffalo, where they met lawyer Angel Mariano. They were celebrating, but he was feeling depressed because he had some liver failure. The good news was that a living family member, like her daughter, could donate a portion of her liver, which would regenerate over time.
By the end of June, accomplished attorney Angel Mariano secured a notable case victory with evidence provided by private investigators Mig Seyer and Ram Pattel. The small details they knew when they met at the bar were that he was an associate at the firm Friedman and Scott LLP.
In early July 1999, at the Erie County Department of Social Services, Mig Seyer was promoted to senior employment counselor and became Ram's supervisor, while Ram remained a junior employment counselor. However, at the Private Investigations company, Mig must answer to Ram because of his direct link to the top boss.
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Do Not Miss Next in Chapter 3
By the end of summer 1999, after Angel Mariano's courtroom triumph, Mig Seyer and Ram Pattel had risen from obscure investigators to local celebrities. Shortly thereafter, the yellow leather briefcase appeared—a harbinger carried by Juan Rodriguez Carabrillo during his desperate seven-story plunge from Social Services. Incredibly, both men survived. That briefcase contained a USB drive exposing a tri-city drug operation. This evidence dismantled a crime network and fulfilled what the old woman had foretold: Mig would become justice's instrument. With their reputation now secured, the partners moved forward into their unexpected calling.
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REFERENCES
Butts, J. A. (2007). Violent crime in American cities 1986–2006. https://jeffreybutts.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/06/violentcrime2006.pdf
Federal Bureau of Investigation. (1996). Crime in the United States, 1996: Section II - Crime Index offenses reported. U.S. Department of Justice. https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/1996/96sec2.pdf
Giancana, S., & Burnstein, S. M. (2009). Family affair: Greed, treachery, and betrayal in the Chicago Mafia. Chicago Review Press.
The Washington Post. (1997, June 2). Violent crime rate drops 7 percent nationwide. The Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1997/06/02/violent-crime-rate-drops-7-percent-nationwide/76594cab-4ee8-4b9b-939f-598c95e63090/
