Well folks all you gotta do is make one call thats all.
I mention this because of an excellent column written last week by the T-P’s Stephanie Grace about all the Parish venders/contractors whose names have popped up in the ongoing federal investigation into Aaron Broussard’s shithouse business dealings. Slabbed of course has been on the cutting edge mentioning names such as Ralph Fontcuberta Jr. that are connected to Broussard’s land and business dealings at the Trout Point Development near East Kempt Nova Scotia. Grace made some very insightful points including this one:
Among the facts that the document claims “the Government would have proven” beyond a reasonable doubt, are these: That throughout his nearly two terms as parish president, Broussard pocketed hundreds of thousands of dollars from contractors and vendors, under the guise of “retainers,” “consulting fees” or “finder’s fees.” And that Broussard was majority owner in a holding company that owned income-generating property in Canada, which was partially funded by people who did business with the parish.
So what does Broussard’s appetite for other people’s money have to do with Parker’s confession?
Not a lot, in a legal sense, anyway. Parker admitted only to knowing about the felony in which she’s the central figure, not any alleged misdeeds that stem from a much broader and deeper pattern of corruption on her then-husband’s watch. You could argue that the additional allegations don’t belong in this document at all, since Broussard has not been formally accused, let alone convicted, of the other offenses.
Yet U.S. Attorney Jim Letten and his prosecutors included it for a reason. More likely, many reasons.
The passage serves as a warning to Broussard and Wilkinson on two fronts: They now know that Parker, who has agreed to cooperate in exchange for a vastly reduced charge that shortens her potential prison time from nearly 600 years to three, is telling the feds everything she knows about Broussard’s relationships with all those parish businesspeople. And Broussard in particular knows that he’s got to worry about a lot more than the payroll fraud charges if he doesn’t cut his own deal.
It also amounts to a veiled invitation, a strong suggestion that those unnamed contractors and vendors who supported the Broussards’ lifestyle should come on in and chat.
Indeed it is folks and those people that were on the fence in one day had their decision on whether or not to cooperate boiled down to sinking fast on Aaron Broussard’s Goodship Lollypop or catching a ride on that train we’ll call the City of New Orleans that I mentioned a few days ago. Something tells me the train has just picked up a bunch of passengers. Welcome aboard boys.