Godson to a Trafficker: Why a Decorated Federal Agent Protected His Drug-Dealing Santeria Priest

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Before we dive into one of the most perplexing cases of law enforcement corruption I’ve covered, remember you can sign up for email notifications and access all our episodes at TrueCrimeUnheard.com.

This case has stuck with me. Alberico Crespo wasn’t just another name in a docket—he was a decorated federal special agent fraud-buster profiled by the Christian Science Monitor, with service at Hialeah PD, DEA, and HHS-OIG. So how does someone like that turn? Not for money in the usual way. The answer involves a federal agent kneeling at his drug dealer’s altar, crossing lines again and again until his badge became evidence against him. And within the seized files were the names of four elderly patients who later died—exhibits the government used to show the human cost.

The Wiretap That Changed Everything

On July 17, 2020, FBI agents monitoring a Title III wiretap heard something that made them replay the recording twice. A man’s voice, calm and matter-of-fact: “Pop… I’ll grab her, I’ll put her in a bag, throw her in the Everglades. An alligator will eat her. I’ve killed people for less.”

This wasn’t a cartel enforcer or cornered dealer making threats. This was Special Agent Alberico Ahias Crespo, a decorated federal investigator with the Department of Health and Human Services Office of Inspector General, assigned to Miami’s Healthcare Fraud Strike Force.

From Fraud-Buster to Protector

Crespo’s career trajectory seemed designed to produce an incorruptible agent. Starting as a Hialeah police officer in 1997, he climbed to DEA special agent by 2002, then landed at HHS-OIG in 2010. His biggest triumph came in 2016 with the conviction of Dr. Fernando Mendez-Villamil for a $50.4 million Medicare fraud scheme. The Christian Science Monitor profiled Crespo as “the agent who cracked” the case, quoting his warning that healthcare fraud had become “socially acceptable.”

But by 2019, according to trial testimony and evidence, Crespo wasn’t investigating fraud—he was enabling it. Living in his backyard efficiency was Jorge Diaz, a patient recruiter moving thousands of oxycodone pills monthly. More than tenant and landlord, they were bound by something deeper: Diaz was a Babalawo (high priest) in Santería, and Crespo was his spiritual godson.

The Missed Warning

The most tragic element might be this: the FBI was warned. On April 27, 2018—twenty-six months before Crespo’s arrest—a caller named Ruben Cabrera-Sotolongo told the FBI that Jorge Diaz was trafficking oxycodone and that “a DEA agent named Crespo” was protecting him. The FBI marked the tip “unreliable” and closed it. In those twenty-six months, approximately 240,000 pills moved through Diaz’s network.

Digital Betrayal

Crespo’s protection wasn’t passive. According to evidence at trial:

• He accessed government prescription databases during phone calls with Diaz
• He showed Diaz lists of investigation targets to confirm he wasn’t on them
• He coached Diaz on what to tell FBI agents when questioned
• He visited Diaz’s patient recruitment business in his government vehicle

When the FBI finally closed in, wiretaps captured Crespo assuring Diaz: “No one is listening to your phone or my phone.” The FBI was listening to everything.

The Human Cost

In the government’s evidence sat four green-tabbed folders—death certificates for elderly patients whose prescriptions fed the trafficking ring:

• Pedro Ruiz, 67, former roofer who sold pills to survive on disability
• Marta Cardero, 73, choosing between rent and medicine
• Braulio Sotolongo, 71, Vietnam veteran selling scripts to pay for his wife’s cancer treatment
• Jose Garcia, 69, trying to help with his grandson’s college

These weren’t drug dealers. They were poor, elderly, and in pain—the vulnerable population Crespo swore to protect.

The Trial and the Question

The government’s case was methodical: 70 witnesses, 53 exhibits, wiretaps playing Crespo’s own voice threatening witnesses and coaching lies. But the defense argued manipulation through faith—that Diaz, as Crespo’s spiritual father in Santería, had exploited their sacred bond.

The jury wrestled with a fundamental question: When credibility is shattered on both sides—a drug dealer cutting a deal versus an agent caught on tape—how do you find truth? The answer came in Crespo’s own voice, recorded on federal wiretaps, aligning perfectly with Diaz’s testimony.

Verdict and Sentence

On August 28, 2023, a jury found Crespo guilty on four counts of witness tampering and obstruction. His 97-month sentence—longer than Jorge Diaz’s 76 months—sent a message about betraying the badge. Judge Gayles called it “a fundamental betrayal of public trust.”

The Deeper Questions

Crespo’s appeal remains pending, but the institutional questions linger: How did the FBI miss the 2018 tip? How did HHS-OIG not notice their agent living with a known trafficker? According to post-conviction reviews, there were:

• No routine audits of agent database access
• No mandatory reporting of relationships with targets
• No system for investigating external tips about agents

The story of Alberico Crespo isn’t just about one agent’s fall. It’s about the systems that enabled it, the warnings ignored, and the assumption that those who carry badges will police themselves.

In 2016, celebrating a major conviction, Crespo reportedly told colleagues, “Nobody’s untouchable.” Three years later, he tested his own theory—and proved himself right.

Until next time, stay safe, stay curious, stay subscribed. See ya.

Steve

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[0:00] Music.

[0:11] Before we dive in, remember you can sign up for email notifications and catch up on past episodes at truecrimeunheard.com.

[0:24] Many listeners are subscribing so they don’t miss out, and it’s the best way to stay connected as these stories unfold. Now this case has stuck with me. It’s perplexing. Alberico Crespo wasn’t just another name. In a docket According to the indictment and press coverage He served with the Hialeah, Florida Police Department The DEA And the Health and Human Services Office of the Inspector General He was a decorated federal special agent A fraud buster Once profiled by the Christian Science Monitor So, how does someone like that turn?

[1:10] Not for money not for sex, not for drugs at least not in the usual way then what? What makes an experienced agent cross the line not once but again and again until his own badge sits in an evidence box? And what’s more troubling? Within the seized files were the names of four patients who later died. The government used those exhibits to show the human costs of the scheme. That’s what we’re going to unpack together, so listen closely and let’s find out.

[1:57] This podcast is based entirely on official court records, sworn testimony, verified filings, and media reports. Some dialogue and scenes have been recreated, Directly from transcripts, filings, and exhibits To bring the record to life Where my imagination is used It is clearly marked as such, Everyone is presumed innocent until proven guilty In a court of law What you’re about to hear is presented with respect for the victims For the truth And for the legal process, According to the Title III court-authorized recordings from July 17, 2020, Special Agent Alberico Crespo’s voice carried across the tape line. Pop, I’ll grab her. I’ll put her in a bag. I’ll throw her in the Everglades. An alligator will eat her. I’ve killed people for less.

[3:07] That wasn’t a cartel enforcer, not a desperate dealer cornered by cops. Those words came from Special Agent Alberico Ejias Crespo. Many years carrying a federal badge and a gun, Currently assigned to the Miami Strike Force Tasked with stopping health care fraud By the time of his arrest in July 2020 The government’s surveillance arsenal was staggering 53 exhibits marked for trial Three separate Title III wiretap authorizations 70 controlled calls recorded by cooperating witnesses Pole camera footage trained on his Hialeah Gardens home 24 hours a day Aerial surveillance flights Circling overhead Terabytes of patient files Forged prescriptions And banking records Even Crespo’s own government-issued Phones and laptops Forensically imaged and cataloged As evidence against him.

[4:15] The government hadn’t just built a case. They had dissected an entire ecosystem of corruption. Pill mill doctors writing scripts for cash, patient recruiters buying prescriptions from the elderly, street dealers moving thousands of pills. And at the center, one federal agent who was supposed to stop it all. Instead, according to prosecutors, he protected it.

[4:47] Before the wiretaps and betrayals There was a career built on Catching the corrupt.

[4:56] Crespo had been a Hialeah Police Department patrol officer In 1997 Drug Enforcement Administration Special Agent 2002 By 2010 A senior special agent With the Department of Health and Human Services Office of the Inspector General Assigned to South Florida’s Healthcare Fraud Strike Force His biggest case made headlines Psychiatrist Dr. Fernando Mendes Villamel Who’d built an empire On fake disability claims According to court records And news coverage Special Agent Crespo’s Investigation took six Long years 300 boxes of seized files Surveillance footage of disabled patients Dancing at clubs Working construction Driving 18-wheelers hauling hazmat In 2016, Mendez Villamel pled guilty He was ordered to pay $50.4 million in restitution The Christian Science Monitor Profiled Crespo as the agent who cracked the case He told the reporter that healthcare fraud had become socially acceptable, and he warned, at some point, there has to be responsibility.

[6:19] According to colleagues who testified at his trial, Crespo had a gift for complex financial investigations. He was patient. He was methodical. A psychology master’s degree that helped him understand criminal thinking. He was a senior firearms instructor who trained other agents. And he held a top-secret security clearance with access to classified databases. In my imagination, I picture the celebration after the Mendez conviction in 2016. The restaurant, loud with federal agents and prosecutors. Relief, tasting like cold beer and fried grouper sandwiches. A junior agent raises a glass.

[7:05] Doc thought he was untouchable. In my imagination, Crespo raises his corona, lime wedged in the neck. Nobody’s untouchable Three years later He would test his own theory.

[7:23] Music.

[7:29] By 2019 Special Agent Crespo Wasn’t just investigating Healthcare fraud According to trial testimony And property records He was living with it Behind his house, in the 17,000 block of Northwest 84th Court in Hialeah Gardens, Florida, sat a converted efficiency apartment. The tenant? Jorge Diaz, already flagged in DEA intelligence reports as a patient recruiter linked to multiple pill mills. The rent?

[8:07] Below market. Sometimes paid, sometimes forgiven According to trial testimony from Aeneas Lorenzo Diaz’s girlfriend Crespo wasn’t just a landlord who looked the other way He was at our house constantly Not just weekends, even weekdays They were always together.

[8:34] She admitted her fear to the jury. We were trafficking, Oxi, and he’s a federal agent. I was worried about getting caught. Jorge told me not to be scared. He said Alberico would cover for him, that he’d protect us. The protection went beyond passive blindness. According to government exhibits, Crespo regularly visited AC Therapeutic Services. That’s Diaz’s patient recruitment business that was operated next to Dr. Ariel Gonzalez’s clinic, one of the prescription mills feeding the conspiracy. Surveillance photos showed Crespo’s government vehicle parked outside for extended periods. Not investigating. Visiting. According to trial testimony, Crespo attended Diaz’s parties where known drug dealers gathered. He knew their names, their cars, and their business. One cooperating witness testified the dealers would joke, We got the feds on our side now.

[9:50] For Alberico Crespo, the efficiency apartment behind his house became a place of profound contradiction. It’s what makes this case incredibly interesting.

[10:03] By day, his federal badge committed him to uphold the law. And by night, his faith bound him to the man breaking it. Jorge Diaz wasn’t just a drug trafficker. According to his own testimony and cultural expert witnesses at trial, He was a babalawa, a high priest in the Afro-Cuban religion of Santeria. And Crespo was his godson in that faith, initiated into the religion’s mysteries. The relationship transcended typical corruption. According to Diaz’s testimony, In our religion, the bond between padrino and godson is sacred. I was his spiritual father He was my spiritual son That’s not something you can just walk away from, Even as pills moved through the efficiency Even as elderly patients Sold their prescriptions for grocery money The two men maintained their religious practice Seven-day candles burned in glass cylinders Offerings of rum and cigars Placed before carved figures Cowrie shells cast for divination According to Diaz’s testimony He compartmentalized the contradictions.

[11:30] The Orishas, the saints, they never agree with anything wrong. That’s why I never asked them about the pills. I kept that separate. But for Crespo, according to the evidence presented at trial, there was no separation. His federal databases became tools for protecting his padrino.

[11:51] His badge became a shield for sharing faith. His oath of office bent to accommodate his spiritual oath, In the courtroom, the defense attorney Jorge Diaz got into Agent Crespo’s head through religious manipulation This wasn’t criminal intent This was undue influence through faith, Prosecutor Faith doesn’t excuse using federal resources to protect drug trafficking Agent Crespo made choices Conscious, deliberate, criminal choices, The truth likely sits in that uncomfortable space between manipulation and choice where faith and crime intertwined so tightly that even Crespo might have not known where one ended and the other began.

[12:53] According to evidence presented at trial The exact moment Crespo crossed from agent to accomplice came Somewhere early in 2019 But in my imagination, I see it differently Not as one specific moment But a series of small surrenders The first time he saw illegal oxycodone pills in Diaz’s efficiency and said nothing. The first time he recognized a dealer’s car in his driveway and didn’t run the plates. The first time Diaz asked, Am I safe? And Crespo nodded yes. According to testimony from cooperating witness, Baladio Matos, by March 2019, Crespo wasn’t just tolerating the trafficking, He was enabling it. Jorge told us his landlord was a federal agent who would warn us if investigators got close. He said we were protected.

[13:58] According to government exhibits, on October 2, 2019, during a 24-minute call with Diaz, Crespo accessed the government’s confidential database and pulled up Dr. Gonzalez’s prescribing history. 1.3 million pills of controlled substance in recent years. On June 15, 2019, FBI surveillance documented Crespo’s government vehicle at AC Therapeutic Services for 47 minutes while he reviewed patient files with Diaz. Multiple times between 2019 and 2020, Crespo used his federal access to check if Diaz or his associates were under investigation. According to testimony from FBI agent Charles Lawless Agent Crespo turned every tool we used to catch criminals Into a tool for protecting them, Databases meant to track drug dealers Became his early warning system for drug dealers.

[15:07] In my imagination, I see Crespo The first time he logged into the protected databases To protect DS His fingers hesitate over the keyboard The screen glows with federal warnings about unauthorized use He types anyway The Rubicon crossed Not with fanfare But with keystrokes.

[15:32] Once that line was crossed, according to prosecutors, there was no going back, only deeper.

[15:46] On April 27, 2018, 26 months before Crespo’s arrest, the FBI’s Miami field office received a phone call that should have ended everything. According to FBI records referenced in court filings The caller identified himself as Ruben Cabrero Sotolongo A Santeria priest in the Miami area His message was specific Jorge Diaz was moving tens of thousands of dollars in oxycodone monthly And a DEA agent named Crespo was protecting him The FBI’s response, according to documents Quote, tip assessed and closed as unreliable, unquote.

[16:35] No one called Crespo’s supervisors at HHS OIG. No one checked if Crespo knew Diaz. No one surveilled the Hialeah Gardens house where agent and drug trafficker lived together. 26 months passed. According to testimony and evidence at trial, in those months, approximately 240,000 oxycodone pills moved through the Diaz network Four patients whose names appeared in seized files died Crespo accessed federal databases dozens of times for Diaz’s benefit The trafficking ring expanded to include multiple doctors and pharmacies.

[17:24] According to testimony from Agent Lawless. If we had acted on that 2018 tip, if we had just driven by Crespo’s house and seen the dealers coming and going, this could have been stopped two years earlier. In the courtroom, the prosecutors said, The system failed. A citizen tried to warn law enforcement, and law enforcement didn’t listen. How many pills hit the street in those 26 months? How many lives were lost? That tip, that was dismissed as unreliable, turned out to be completely accurate. Every detail the caller provided would later appear in Crespo’s indictment.

[18:16] March 2019 FBI surveillance cameras captured the Routine a Universal Arts Pharmacy on West Flagler Street What they documented was exploitation dressed as healthcare According to trial exhibits and surveillance footage Jorge Diaz’s black BMW would idle in the parking lot A.C. Blasting against Miami humidity. Around it, a constellation of the desperate. Elderly patients navigating walkers across hot asphalt. Disabled veterans leaning on canes.

[18:55] Retirees clutching Medicare cards like lifelines. In my imagination, I see Rosa Martinez, 71. Though that’s not her real name. She shifts her weight on an aluminum walker Its rubber tips sticking to the hot tar Sweat streams down her temple as she counts the hours Since her 5 a.m. Bus ride to get here Her prescription is legitimate Back surgery, chronic pain But her social security check is $890 a month Her rent is $750 According to trial testimony Diaz’s system was simple Patients filled Legitimate prescriptions Sold him the pills for 200 bucks And kept just enough For their actual pain He resold them for $1,200 to street dealers The patients got grocery money Diaz got a 600% profit Everyone Stayed quiet.

[20:02] According to Title III wiretap recordings from July 11, 2020. Diaz discussed the economics casually. Hey, papo, I lost more than that playing dominoes last night. 1600 doesn’t cause me to lose sleep.

[20:20] $1,600, the street value of pills bought from one elderly patient. It was nothing to him. Gambling money. But for the patients selling their medicine, that $200 was the difference between eating and not eating. According to testimony from Aeneas Lorenzo, Jorge called them his viejitos, his old folks. He acted like he was helping them, giving them money for their pills. But then he’d laugh about how easy they were to manipulate. FBI surveillance documented the same scene weekly. Elderly patients shuffling in with prescriptions, shuffling out with cash. Diaz’s BMW trunk gradually filling with white pharmacy bags worth tens of thousands of dollars on the street. And according to evidence at trial, Crespo knew. He visited the pharmacy. He’d seen the routine. He’d done nothing.

[21:32] The deepest betrayal lived in the mundane details of Crespo’s double life. According to government exhibits on January 27, 2019, at 2.56 p.m. Exactly, Crespo sent an email to his strike force colleagues. Available for an arrest Thursday, February 7? Will be a doctor in Weston. Need six agents for a search warrant in Hialeah. His email signature carried the full weight of federal authority. Special Agent Albrico A. Crespo United States Department of Health and Human Services Office of Inspector General.

[22:16] That same evening, according to phone records. He called Jorge Diaz for 17 minutes. The conversation, according to Diaz’s later testimony, was reassurance that Diaz wasn’t connected to the Weston doctor about to be arrested. The pattern repeated through 2019 and 2020. By day, Crespo planned raids on pill mills. By night, he protected one. According to evidence presented, February 2019 He led the arrest of Dr. Miguel Santos for writing fraudulent prescriptions And that weekend, he attended a party at Diaz’s efficiency behind his house Where dealers discussed moving Santos’ former patients to other clinics April 2019 Testified before the grand jury about prescription drug trafficking patterns and that afternoon, he warned Diaz to lay low for a while. June 2020, according to testimony, showed Diaz a list of targets in the Dr. Gonzalez investigation pointing out, Hey, pops, your name is not here. You are not involved in any of this.

[23:34] According to Forensic Analysis of Government Computers, on October 2, 2019, Crespo accessed the Prescription Monitoring Database during a call with Diaz. He pulled records showing Gonzalez had prescribed 1.3 million doses of controlled substances, not for an investigation, but for reassurance. You see, the most damning near-miss came June 15, 2019. According to FBI surveillance logs, Agent Charles Lawless drove past AC Therapeutic Services during Crespo’s 47-minute visit. Lawless slowed down. He almost stopped. He had noticed the government plates. According to Lawless’s testimony, if I had pulled in, if I had asked why Crespo was there, maybe this ends a year earlier. But I assumed he was investigating. It never occurred to me That he was participating In.

[24:43] The same databases meant to catch drug dealers. The same raids meant to stop pill mills. The same badge meant to protect the vulnerable were all weaponized to protect the very crimes they were meant to stop.

[25:05] July 2020. The FBI’s surveillance web was tightening. Diaz could feel it. and according to wiretaps, so could Crespo. The recordings captured everything, rage, fear, and a federal agent orchestrating obstruction. According to those approved Title III recordings from July 17, 2020, Crespo’s threat was specific. I’ll grab her. I’ll put her in a bag and I’ll throw her in the Everglades. An alligator will eat her I’ve killed people for less, The her was a potential witness The threat was recorded on federal wiretaps Later, agents would seize Exhibit 64 from Crespo’s home A tactical knife Words on tape A weapon in evidence The line between bluster and capability blurred That same day, according to the recordings, Resignation mixed with loyalty.

[26:14] Crespo said Oh man, we’re both going to end up in jail Because I’m not going to sell you out Three days later The recordings captured Crespo Coaching Diaz on exactly what to tell the FBI, Crespo said Listen carefully When you call lawless You say exactly this, This is bullshit I’ve done nothing wrong I don’t know what this is about Nothing more According to trial testimony Diaz dialed Agent Lawless’ voicemail And repeated Crespo’s script Word for word A federal agent’s lie Delivered through a drug dealer’s voice Recorded on FBI voicemail The wiretaps also captured Crespo’s false competence No one is listening to your phone or my phone We’re safe, But the FBI was listening to everything And they had been for months According to testimony from Agent Lawless In 23 years I’ve never heard anything like it An agent coaching a target to lie To other agents Using our trust in each other as a weapon against us.

[27:41] After his arrest, Crespo offered an explanation for his threats. According to probation office interviews, he’d seen combat, real combat, Colombia, Brazil, Peru, firefights with FARC guerrillas, bodies in the jungle, the kind of experiences that change a man. Maybe explain why he threatened to feed someone to alligators. According to his account, he was deployed multiple times to South American combat zones, engaged hostile forces, lost brothers in arms, just came back as a different person.

[28:23] Federal prosecutors had a different word for these stories. False. According to government sentencing filings, Crespo’s military record, his DD-214, told the truth. Service location. Tampa, Florida. Base. McDill Air Force Base. Deployments. None. Combat. None. Decorations. National Defense Service Medal. Air Force Training Ribbon. Air Force Good Conduct Medal. No Columbia. No Firefights. No FARC guerrillas. just Florida Air Force bases and training ribbons. According to prosecutors’ sentencing memorandum, the defendant’s false claims of combat experience were not harmless exaggeration. They were designed to make his threats credible, to make witnesses believe he was capable of violence. In the courtroom, according to observers, a prosecutor held Crespo’s DD-214 aloft, a single sheet of paper that dismissed years of fabricated war stories. Several veterans in the gallery shook their heads. One walked out.

[29:41] In the courtroom, the prosecutor. He used stolen valor to intimidate witnesses. He used fake combat experience to make people believe he’d killed before. The lie wasn’t just about biography. It was about capability.

[29:56] A combat veteran threatening violence carries different weight than an Air Force administrator who never left Florida. Crespo knew that.

[30:12] It’s August 2023, the Southern District of Florida, United States, versus Albrico Crespo. The defense opened with their theory, manipulation, not corruption. Jorge Diaz is a con artist who happens to be a Santeria priest. He found Agent Crespo’s spiritual vulnerability and exploited it, pulled him into religious ceremonies, made him a godson, got into his head through faith.

[30:44] The prosecutors countered with a simpler narrative, conscious choice. This isn’t about religion. It’s about a federal agent who decided his personal relationships mattered more than his oath, who used every tool we gave him to protect criminals instead of catching them. The government’s case was methodical, 70 witnesses, 53 exhibits, the wiretaps played in open court, Crespo’s voice threatening violence, coaching lies, promising protection. FBI agent Charles Lawless took the stand. His testimony was personal. Agents don’t lie to each other. That’s the foundation of everything we do. When Agent Crespo told Jorge Diaz to lie to me, He broke something that can’t be fixed. Then came Jorge Diaz himself, the government’s star witness, the protected drug dealer testifying against his protector. Under direct examination, Diaz was candid about the relationship. He called me pop, I called him son. In our religion that bond is sacred, but yes, I was selling pills, And yes, he knew. He didn’t just know, he helped.

[32:05] On cross-examination, the defense attacked Diaz’s credibility. The defense says, You were facing 135 years in federal prison, correct? Yes. And now, after cooperating, you’re facing 76 months, correct? Yes. You’d say anything to save yourself, wouldn’t you? I’m telling the truth. The recordings prove it. The recordings did prove it Crespo’s own voice captured on federal wiretaps Aligned perfectly with Diaz’s testimony The jury took notes They requested specific recordings to be replayed, Here’s what I keep thinking about And maybe you too If you were sitting on that jury Who would you believe? Jorge Diaz, an admitted drug trafficker who cut his potential 135-year sentence down to 76 months by testifying? Or Albrico Crespo, a decorated federal agent with 23 years of service, caught on tape making threats and coaching lies? When credibility is shattered on both sides, how do you find the truth?

[33:24] The jury had to answer that question, and Crespo’s own voice would make their decision. According to courtroom observers, Crespo’s expression changed each time his voice filled the courtroom. The confident federal agent at the defense table seemed to shrink with each playback of, I’ve killed people for less.

[33:53] It’s August 25th, 2023, 2.47 p.m. A note from the jury. Can a person be convicted on knowingly? Clarification needed. They were struggling with criminal intent. Was Crespo knowingly corrupt or manipulated by faith? Judge Galus responded, the government must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant knew the unlawful purpose and willfully joined it. 4.15 p.m., another note. The jurors on one of the counts are at a gridlock. By 5.30 p.m., they chose to return Monday morning. Crespo spent the weekend not knowing if he’d remain free or spend decades in federal prison.

[34:46] August 28, 2023, 11.43 a.m., the final note. We have reached a verdict. The courtroom filled. Crespo stood, his attorney’s hand on his shoulder. The clerk read, Count one, conspiracy to distribute controlled substances. Not guilty. A brief exhale from the defense table. And then, Count five, conspiracy to commit witness tampering. Guilty. Count seven, witness tampering, guilty Count eight, witness tampering, guilty Count nine, witness tampering, guilty.

[35:40] Count 10. Conspiracy to Obstruct Justice. Guilty. According to courtroom observers, Crespo’s composure crumbled with each guilty. His shoulders heaved, his breathing came in gasps, and by the final count he was gripping the defense table trying to stay upright. The courtroom artist later said She couldn’t capture his expression It kept collapsing into itself, Outside the courthouse, officials didn’t hold back At the press conference, the FBI said No one is above the law When a federal agent betrays his oath He betrays every citizen who trusted him U.S. Attorney said This was a toxic mix of ego, arrogance, and corruption Agent Crespo chose crime over conscience. The decorated investigator who once told reporters, nobody’s untouchable, had been convicted by a jury of his peers. Four guilty verdicts, each carrying up to 20 years.

[36:58] It’s January 24th, 2024. It’s one of those gray Miami mornings. You know, the kind where the humidity just sits on you like judgment, Crespo stood before Judge Galus Trembling, According to court transcripts, Crespo said I should have acted better, I should have been better I let everyone down My family, my colleagues, the public, I’m deeply sorry Right. The courtroom was packed with two opposing narratives of who Albrico Crespo was. His daughter’s letter, read by the defense, said, quote, Please don’t take my dad away. He taught me to be honest, to work hard, and to help others. He made mistakes, but he’s not a monster, unquote. His ex-wife’s letter described the young Hialeah cop Who ran into a burning building to save residents His sister wrote about trauma Their father’s death when Crespo was 11 How it broke something in him and never healed.

[38:15] But prosecutors painted a different picture According to their sentencing memorandum The defendant lived a lie every day for years Every morning he put on his badge Knowing he was protecting drug dealers Every night he went home to count their money They asked for 151 months Over 12 years The defense pleaded for just 27 months Arguing Diaz manipulation through Santoria created a perfect storm of spiritual and psychological coercion. Judge Galus took a middle path. Ninety-seven months. Eight years and one month. Longer than Jorge Diaz’s own sentence. The judge said, Mr. Crespo, you were a public servant until you were not. Your actions represent a fundamental betrayal of public trust. The sentence must reflect not just punishment, but the message that no one, especially not federal agents, is above the law.

[39:32] There were additional conditions. Three years supervised release. Mandatory drug treatment. Mental health counseling. Warrantless searches. No contact with co-defendants. And a $100 special assessment just because. Crespo’s daughter sobbed, sobbed in the gallery His elderly mother had to be helped from the courtroom, Jorge Diaz wasn’t present He was already serving his 76 months The deal he got for testifying against his godson, The badge that once opened doors Now wouldn’t even get him minimum security placement Former law enforcement in federal prison Eight years of watching his back.

[40:25] Music.

[40:32] In the government’s evidence boxes between the wiretap transcripts and financial records sat four green-tabbed folders, death certificates, names on pharmacy logs, lives reduced to exhibit numbers. But according to testimony and evidence presented at trial They were more than evidence They were elderly patients whose prescriptions fed the trafficking ring That operated during Crespo’s protection.

[41:04] Pedro Ruiz, 67 According to pharmacy records He was prescribed 180 oxycodone pills Monthly for back injury A roofing contractor for 30 years Until a fall from a ladder ended his career In my imagination, I see his hands Scarred from decades of honest work Twisted by arthritis into painful claws And the pills started as medicine for legitimate pain And then became his only income When his disability claim was denied, His daughter’s testimony read in court He was proud. He never asked for help. Selling those pills was killing him inside, before they killed him outside. He was found on his kitchen floor, coffee mugs still warm, prescription bottle empty.

[42:05] Marta Cargaro, 73. According to social security records entered into evidence Monthly income, $890 Rent in Hialeah, $750, The math of poverty made her prescription worth more sold than taken Her neighbor’s statements to investigators She’d count pills like rosary beads Trying to make them last Some months she chose pain over hunger Other months hunger over pain Found by that same neighbor Television still playing a telenovela Social security check unopened on the counter.

[42:55] Then there was Braulito Sotolongo, 71, a Vietnam veteran, bronze star recipient. According to VA medical records, he was prescribed opioids for shrapnel still embedded in his left leg. His brother’s victim impact statement? He survived the jungle. He survived the war. He couldn’t survive the streets of Miami. Sold his prescriptions to cover his wife’s cancer treatment Not covered by insurance, His heart gave out before the cancer took her She followed six weeks later, Jose Garcia, 69 According to evidence Recruited by Diaz personally Former assembly line worker hands ruined by 40 years of repetitive motion. His grandson’s statement?

[43:55] Abuelo was embarrassed about selling his medicine, but he wanted to help with my college. He said education was the only way out. He overdosed on pills he’d kept back from a sale. These weren’t criminal masterminds or willing conspirators. They were elderly, poor, and in pain Caught between impossible choices Targeted specifically because poverty made them vulnerable Protected by no one Especially not by the federal agent Who swore an oath to protect them According to the prosecutor’s closing argument Every pill Agent Crespo helped move Every database search he ran for Diaz Every warning he gave Behind each one Was someone’s grandmother, grandfather, parent Real people Real pain Real death.

[45:04] January 30th, 2024, six days after sentencing Crespo’s attorneys filed a notice of appeal with the 11th Circuit Case number 24-10310 The arguments? Evidentiary issues The prejudicial impact of the wiretaps The weight given to Diaz’s testimony despite his cooperation deal But the appeal represents more than legal technicalities It’s a final attempt to reframe the narrative Manipulation over corruption Spiritual coercion over criminal choice While Crespo waits in federal custody The institutional questions linger How did the FBI miss the 2018 tip That named both Crespo and Diaz? How did HHS-OIG not notice their agent living with a known drug recruiter? How did colleagues not question Crespo’s unusual interest in certain investigations?

[46:12] According to a federal law enforcement review initiated after Crespo’s conviction, There were no routine audits of database access by agents No regular review of agents’ financial disclosures No system for following up on external tips about agent misconduct No mandatory reporting when agents have personal relationships with investigation targets.

[46:39] In my imagination, I see Crespo in the federal detention center Writing a letter to his daughter The pen scratching across commissary paper He writes about her soccer games Her grades The little dog he won’t see for eight years He doesn’t write about the wiretaps, the verdict Or the four names in green folders, His daughter, according to her letters to the court Still texts his phone every night Good night, Dad Love you, The messages bounce back undelivered, The appeal remains pending The institutional reforms move slowly The pills that killed Pedro, Marta, Brailio, and Jose, They’re still on the streets They’re just moved by different hands now.

[47:44] In April 2018, a caller told the FBI exactly what was happening. A federal agent was protecting a drug trafficker. The FBI marked it unreliable and closed the file. 26 months later, they arrested Albrico Crespo for exactly what the caller described. Between that missed warning and Crespo’s arrest, Approximately 240,000 pills Moved through the network he protected Four people whose names we know Died How many names don’t we know?

[48:22] This is what institutional betrayal looks like Not in dramatic shootouts or Hollywood conspiracies But in database searches and deleted texts In willful blindness and weaponized trust A decorated agent who caught fraudsters became one A badge meant to protect became a tool for trafficking A spiritual bond became criminal conspiracy According to FBI statistics, Crespo is one of fewer than 50 federal agents Prosecuted for corruption in the last decade But according to law enforcement experts who testified before Congress after his conviction He represents a larger problem The assumption that agents police themselves That the brotherhood of the badge prevents betrayal In my imagination, I return to that case celebration way back in 2016 When Crespo was the hero Crespo raising his beer after the Mendez conviction declaring, nobody’s untouchable.

[49:36] Not even, especially not, the ones carrying badges. Jorge Diaz served 76 months for trafficking thousands of pills. Alberico Crespo got 97 months for protecting him. The arithmetic of justice doesn’t always balance. The efficiency behind Crespo’s house sits empty now. The candles are cold. The cowrie shells scattered But somewhere else in Miami In another backyard Behind another house The pattern continues Pills and poverty Faith and corruption Badges and betrayal The question isn’t whether there’s another Crespo out there The odds are there probably is The question is how many?

[50:35] If this story opened your eyes to how institutional failure enables individual corruption, take a moment to leave me a five-star review on Apple Podcasts or the platform that you’re listening on. It helps more listeners discover these untold cases. If you want to download the official source documents from this case or to sign up for new episode alerts, Visit truecrimeunheard.com Until next time Stay safe Stay curious Stay subscribed See ya.

[51:22] Music.