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 2
An old woman whispers a spell to Mig Seyer during his rescue, then dies, leaving him an ancient gift of premonition. He uses this ability as a Social Servant to save abused children. In 1996, he met Ram Pattel, a fellow veteran with similar goals. Through Ram's wife's agency, they pursue private investigation licenses, which they obtain by 1999. During the process, they meet lawyer Angel Mariano, whose cases they'll later support. Mig transforms from social worker to justice-seeker, carrying the old woman's final gift.
Chapter Three - The Tourino’s trafficking scandal
Life in Buffalo, New York, continued its hectic pace, and by the end of June 1999, the local news was only talking about the legal victory of attorney Angel Mariano. He was an associate at Friedman and Scott LLP, and his bright yellow briefcase was already well known throughout Buffalo. In this case, his success was no accident; years of experience and some unexpected help played a part. His achievement was mainly thanks to the valuable information collected and provided by private investigators Mig Seyer and Ram Pattel.
On an early August day in 1999, a major fire erupted in a neighborhood on Buffalo’s West Side, causing Mr. Juan Rodriguez Carabrillo to lose everything. He became homeless and needed to apply for temporary assistance. After his case opened and during his visit to the Assessment Unit at the Comprehensive Employment Division of Erie County Department of Social Services, he argued with his Employment Counselor, Sherrie Grabowski. Consequently, he asked to speak with his supervisor, Mr. Mig Seyer, to mediate a dispute regarding his ability to work while trying to rebuild his life.
Attorney Angel Mariano had spent his life arguing that evidence mattered. In courtrooms, he knew how to secure convictions beyond a reasonable doubt. He'd defended the innocent and prosecuted the guilty for years. But no amount of legal briefs could change what the doctor told him on September 15, 1999.
"She's not your biological daughter, Mr. Mariano. The DNA test was irrefutable."
Angel felt the floor tilt. Sofia—his daughter in every way that mattered—couldn't save his life. Her liver couldn't regenerate to save his. The biological definition of family was destroying him.
He left the doctor's office in a daze. In his hand was his briefcase—bright yellow, outrageously cheerful. He had ordered it that way three years ago, before the diagnosis, before everything changed. Yellow so he wouldn't lose it. Yellow so people would remember him.
As Angel drove over the Buffalo Skyway bridge, he reflected on the evidence he had gathered. He knew there was a folder in his briefcase with a case file on Charles Torina, the drug trafficker, which Friedman and Scott had asked him to put together: financial records, witness statements, and boat documentation—all indicating that a seemingly legitimate businessman was smuggling cocaine across the Americas. He had been working on this case as his final gift to his city, believing that if he were going to die, at least he could leave behind something meaningful—evidence that counted. But now, standing at the bridge railing—150 feet above the Niagara River—he questioned whether evidence alone was enough and whether leaving behind a briefcase full of secrets really qualified as a legacy.
At 8:37 AM, as the sun broke through the clouds, Attorney Angel Mariano made his decision. He gripped the yellow briefcase with both hands, took a deep breath, and stepped into the unknown. As he fell, he felt no pain—only an odd sense of peace. The briefcase appeared to briefly slow his descent, as if the universe itself was gently holding him, guiding him. For a moment—just a moment—he thought he heard a voice. Old. Female. Speaking in a language he didn't understand… until a message finally became clear.
“Your sacrifice will open the door. Your death will reveal the truth. This is your purpose.”
Then his descent continued until the river swallowed him. Moments later, the briefcase surfaced downstream, caught in the current like a lost prayer reaching the shore.
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Not very far away, Mr. Juan, who had become homeless, was on that morning near the shore of Lake Erie when he discovered a briefcase on the riverbank and picked it up. The briefcase had a combination lock, which he couldn’t open. It was a beautiful, bright yellow leather briefcase, making it impossible to miss. Mr. Mariano ordered it that way, specifically in that bright yellow color, to prevent briefcases from being misplaced. It was impossible to leave it behind, as anyone would notice it. Additionally, he read that studies have shown yellow is the easiest color for the human eye to see, especially in bright light.
Anyway, since Mr. Juan couldn’t open it, he carried it everywhere he went. He knew there was something valuable inside, more than he could get at the pawn shop, so he kept holding onto it, trying to open it. On his next visit to his Employment Counselor, Ms. Grabrawski, since Supervisor Mig Seyer had given him two weeks to work with the Homeless Unit in trying to find a suitable living arrangement or shelter, he went to the office with the briefcase.
Since Juan wasn’t sure where to go, he returned to the Assessment office. But this time, as soon as Mig glances at the briefcase, he realizes it belongs to Mr. Mariano—the same one the law firm asked him to recover. Mig called Ram from another worker's phone to contact the sheriff's office so they could retrieve the briefcase while keeping an eye on Juan. Ram knew he needed to act with tact, but he got nervous and, instead of calling the sheriff, he mistakenly called the law office. Once he realized his mistake, he blushed and turned bright red. Mr. Juan immediately noticed because he was sitting just looking at him from the desk of Ms. Grabowski, which was facing north, while the visitor’s chair was facing south.
As soon as Juan saw Ram staring at the briefcase, he panicked and, in a moment of desperation, rushed out of the office to avoid giving it up. Meanwhile, Ms. Grabowski, sensing something worse than a quick escape, tried to stop him by throwing her phone—not out of violence, but out of panic—at him, as the briefcase, so obviously valuable and important, was being left with a homeless man, which felt cosmically wrong. Thus, Juan ran, chased by Mig, with the commotion adding drama to the moment. As he made his way to the main door, he noticed that one of the large side windows was being replaced—likely forgetting they were on the 7th floor of the building at 290 Main Street, Buffalo, New York—before jumping out of the window without hesitation, an act that seemed as crazy as something out of a horror movie. Somewhere in the universe, the old woman with one tooth smiled.
He jumped out the window on the opposite side of the main door of this office, passing through Ms. Capazou's cubicle. She wasn't at her desk because the Ellicott Development maintenance crew was fixing a leaking window, and they were about to replace it. Juan pushed the workers away and leapt.
The large window on the 7th floor was being replaced—exactly as it needed to be. Juan didn't think; he just jumped. The moment his feet left the building, he felt it: not just a strong wind, but magic. The same force that had chosen Mig Seyer to protect the innocent was now protecting Juan Rodriguez Carabrillo. The briefcase mattered. Juan's survival mattered. The universe was playing for keeps.
Juan stands about 6'2" and weighs 165 pounds. As he jumped, a sudden gust of wind from the clear sky lifted him into the air, and he flew out with the briefcase over his head, gripped firmly by his large hands at both ends. He soared through the air nearly five blocks—his large hands clutching the yellow case like a sacred relic. The briefcase absorbed the fall; it had become his parachute. When he landed in the parking lot near the Coca-Cola baseball field, he was battered but alive. The briefcase was pristine. The covenant was working.
During the chase, Mig didn't hesitate to act. He jumped because his premonition—his cosmic gift—showed him the future. He saw himself catching Juan. He saw the briefcase leading to justice. He saw the path forward. And so he jumped, trusting the same force that brought the old woman into his life six months earlier.
So, just like what happened to Juan, a powerful gust of wind lifted him and swung him hard for about seven blocks in a single burst. The gust kept his body floating against gravity from the corner of Main and Swam Streets until the Erie River near the Silos. As Mig fell, another gust caught him. It was the same wind that had lifted Juan, but stronger. It was the spell itself, made real. The universe, speaking in the language of physics and chaos, says: 'You are chosen. You will survive. You will satisfy what must be achieved.'
Mig floated seven blocks—farther than Juan, because his covenant was stronger, more developed, more demanding. Yet, his body would be tested, broken, and remade. That was the price of being chosen. When he landed on the boat at Silo City, his ribs cracked like old wood. His jaw dislocated. His leg was fractured. But his consciousness remained clear. Through the pain, he heard it—the voice of the old woman: “By time's flow, I decree, you will thrive.”
The armed men on the boat pointed their weapons, but something in Mig's eyes—something cosmic, something unimaginable—made them hesitate. They lowered their guns. They called for help. They respected what they couldn't understand. Mig Seyer had become a living conduit for justice. And the universe was just getting started.
After the ECMC Hospital released him, his ribs were wrapped in gauze. His jaw was wired shut. His leg was in a cast. The doctors said his recovery would take months, possibly up to a year for complete healing. Still, Mig knew better. The spell would help him heal faster. In just over a month, Mig was already back in his office. He was walking with crutches, his jaw in place, and had plastic protectors around his ribs.
A couple of months later, desperate to find a way to survive, Mr. Juan returns to the Social Services office at 95 Franklin Street in Buffalo, New York, to speak with his Financial Worker about his food stamps. He canceled his cash assistance, so he doesn’t have to do any work activities. He kept his Medicaid and food stamps only. His plan was to postpone the temporary financial assistance case until he could find a way to open the briefcase. He was very hopeful that it would be full of valuables or even large-denomination dollar bills.
By a twist of fate, Mr. Mig Seyer was leaving the same building after a meeting with the Erie County Works Center supervisors on the second floor. He was also trying to trace Juan’s case and his whereabouts. Then both Juan and Mig crossed paths, and Mig reacted in a split second. Mig was limping and looking at the ground when the bright reflection of yellow on the ground appeared in his peripheral vision. It was, without a doubt, Mariano’s unmistakable briefcase.
As soon as he turned back to Juan, he recognized him and immediately started running away, heading east along the street. They both managed to lose the people around them. Mig was hopping on one foot, chasing Juan, and, after nearly catching up, Juan crossed to the other side of Main Street. In his desperation, Mig threw the crutch he was walking with and, by a stroke of luck, hit Juan squarely on the head-what good aim!
Two police officers and a sheriff who witnessed the scene took Mig, Juan, and the bright yellow to the police station at 695 Main Street, Buffalo, NY. At the station, Mig called the law firm he was working with for help. Their main office was nearby on Court Street. He called from his iPhone 3GS, the best-selling smartphone at the time, known for its touchscreen interface and 3-megapixel camera. Mig took photos of the briefcase and sent them to his contact at the law firm. In less than seven minutes, a lawyer from the firm was assisting Mig at the police station.
A few hours later, after everything was cleared up with the police, Mig and Juan were released, and the briefcase was awarded to Mig because Juan found it rather than owned it. Additionally, the lawyer proved that it was the subject of an ongoing investigation. Of course, to speed up the process, Mig gave him a $200 reward. Then, out of personal pride, Mig asked the associate lawyer to allow him to return the briefcase personally.
Everyone left the police station, and Mig needed to go home first to change clothes and take a shower so he could be presentable. When he arrived at his house in West Seneca, he sat at his dining table, the yellow briefcase in front of him like an altar. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to open the briefcase. Using a technique from his extracurricular training as a private investigator, he picked the combination lock after ten long minutes. The briefcase opened to reveal files, documents, photographs, and one USB drive—black, unmarked, probably containing proof of everything.
He quickly glanced over everything, aware that the lawyers at the firm were waiting for him. He briefly checked the contents inside the briefcase. The only thing that caught his attention was a 256 GB USB flash drive. It was very advanced and had an unusually high storage capacity, far beyond the typical thumb drive’s size. Therefore, he decided to keep it until he could examine its contents.
As his fingers touched the drive, Mig felt it. A surge of cosmic recognition flooded him. His premonition ignited—not a warning of danger, but a vision of purpose. He saw the future branching outward: police arrests, federal investigations, and organized crime networks dismantled. And from another place in the universe, the ghost of Angel Mariano was finally able to rest.
Mig then took a quick shower and changed his clothes. Afterwards, he hurried to the law office with the briefcase. When he arrived, the main associates were already waiting for him. There, he handed the bright yellow to one of them and, after signing some regulatory documents, left for home. First, he called his boss at the Social Service’s office to take the rest of the day off using sick time and said he would adjust his arrival and departure times from the office the following Monday when he returned to work.
Later, Mig called his girlfriend to apologize for canceling their planned lunch and movie night. He was eager to find out what was on the flash drive. He walked to the living room table with his Lenovo ThinkPad T400 laptop and inserted the flash drive into its USB 2.0 port.
After several hours, Mr. Reyes, with help from his brother on the other end of the phone, managed to unlock the USB drive and access the data. To everyone's surprise, the files revealed details about a drug trafficking network. It included a list with pictures of police officers and lawyers, both on the district attorney's defense teams and at private firms, whom the mob had bribed to cover its operations.
They uncovered evidence of a drug pipeline lasting fourteen years, involving bribed police officers, corrupted lawyers, and an organized crime network stretching from Buffalo to Las Vegas to Toronto. It was bigger than anyone had suspected. Justice was waiting to be served. The case led to multiple arrests in Buffalo and Las Vegas, and it also revealed how local mob associates took part in a larger drug operation in other states. Moreover, this case highlighted the link between organized crime in Buffalo and drug trafficking across different countries.
As soon as Mig Seyer saw the documents, he called the FBI. He didn't explain how he discovered the evidence; he handed it over. He stepped back into the shadows, where select people belong. The old woman's covenant was coming true. Mig Seyer was no longer a shy social worker; he was now an instrument of cosmic justice.
These documents helped resolve one of the most notorious drug trafficking cases in Buffalo's history involving the since the early 1980s. This organization had a cocaine pipeline to Las Vegas and connections to other organized crime groups. It also outlined their relationships with other rings in Toronto, Canada.
It also helped the Canadian police solve some drug trafficking cases, leading to the arrest of 14 officers involved in a drug ring connected to organized crime in Buffalo and Niagara Falls, emphasizing the international scope of these operations. The DEA, FBI, CIA, and other local agencies took over the case, and our friends, the Private Eyes investigators Mig Seyer and Ram Pattel, received an award that boosted the Pattel company's reputation and helped it gain recognition, enabling it to expand its operations. Now, Mig and Ram have just one job they both enjoy that also provides enough money for them to live comfortably.
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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/
