KENSINGTON, BROOKLYN — A Swedish party planner is accused of throwing lavish affairs in the "Secret Mansion," a suspected illegal venue and hotel set up in a Kensington home he didn't own and that he ran using unpaid "indentured servants" who lived in its basement.

"It is a really bad situation," said Kay Quesada, a 21-year-old college student who says she spent months living in the basement of 846 McDonald Ave. under the unofficial employ of Robin French.

The enterprise fell apart when one of those "servants" refused to clean his dishes. The "master tenant" demanded the woman leave his house, then called 911 to report she'd armed herself with a knife and refused to leave, according to legal documents and several interviews.

Quesada has not been allowed back since her run-in with police on Sept. 12. But her husband remains in the building where French allegedly earned thousands of dollars listing rooms and "pods" on Airbnb as well as selling tickets to boozy, raving parties.

"And the police wouldn't do anything about it."

"I have two guys that live in my basement for free, in exchange for being indentured servants," Robin420 wrote on June 6, 2017.

The impromptu business has been going for almost two years, according to building owner Josh Einhorn. It appeared at the same time as a Redditor named Robin420 boasted he earned $110,000 annually without doing any work.

"It's gotten to the point where I don't have to do anything at all, period."

When Robin French began advertising his Kensington event space, the "Secret Mansion," in May 2017 he told potential partygoers it was the perfect place to "shake it easy."

"Do you guys know about Secret Mansion in south Brooklyn?" Robin420 asked followers of the Brooklyn subreddit. "Awesome DIY venue …host to comedy shows and live performances."

French and his partners posted invites to Secret Sundays, Secret Mansion Masquerades and "Vibes At The Mansion" – lavish parties with an open bar, barbecue, live music and DJ that cost up to $70 a person to attend. The invitations posted on the website DanceDeets openly named him as an organizer.

A video tour of the Secret Mansion, posted to Instagram on Dec. 10, 2016, shows the venue's main floor and basement area which had been fitted with a stage, makeup room and a private couch area for "doing the smokey."

Photographs shared by Robin420 also show hordes of people dancing in a dark, cramped room cast in purple light, a row of pinball machines and band equipment waiting to be played and a fire pit set up in the spacious back yard.

Robin420 did not explain the responsibilities of his "indentured servants" in his posts, both of whom he said were "down and out" and "had nowhere to go," but did expand on the lifestyle their work allowed him.

When not welcoming guests, Robin420 spent his time grilling in the back yard, playing the piano, restoring old pinball machines, and making time to "fart around on reddit," he wrote.

"I really [lucked] out."

Secret Mansion revelers ushered in the New Year on Jan. 1, 2017, with champagne, a countdown and a massive balloon drop.

Speaking to Patch, French refused to confirm he is Robin420. "If that was me, it would be pretty damaging," he said. "It really reads bad, the terminology, but I want to say it's semantics."

But French did tell Patch that, like Robin420, he resides in the Secret Mansion, had a live-work agreement with two fellow tenants, and supported himself by hosting events in his home.

Joshua Einhorn — who owned the building until it was foreclosed on in June — became aware that his home had been turned into a hotel and nightclub when he returned from Las Vegas in the fall of 2017 to survey repairs French requested he make, he said.

Einhorn was stunned to discover French and his girlfriend had built a roof deck, a soundproof recording studio, a backyard bar and installed bunk beds in the house, the building owner told Patch.

"This building I rented to two people he was using as an army barracks," Einhorn said. "I said, 'You're running an operation. I'm not fixing nothing.'"

French declined to respond when asked if he advertised rooms on Airbnb. But Robin420 told Redditors the site was responsible for 90 percent of his guests and an Airbnb spokesperson told Patch that multiple listings at 846 McDonald Ave. were deactivated on Sept. 13. and will be subjected to an internal investigation.

Brooklyn Legal Services real estate attorney Gregory Louis said listing multiple rooms inside a single-family home violates Airbnb regulations and city laws. Louis is not representing anybody involved in this case.

"That is the classic definition of a single-room occupancy," said Louis, "and that has not been allowed for a very long time."

Louis also noted that advertising parties where alcohol will be served on social media sites violates State Liquor Authority laws that mandate New York bars carry a license. But house parties are the loophole; New Yorkers are allowed to invite guests to their homes and serve alcohol for free.

"It's on the books," French said of his event-planning business. "As long as you don't go over 70 people, and you can't be making noise past 10 p.m."

Einhorn tried to warn French the building was not equipped to handle so many residents and his events could prove to be a fire hazard.

A rapper performs at the Ugly Sweater Holiday Party on Dec. 10, 2016, which featured live music, an ugly sweater competition and "an entire mansion to explore."

"He knew exactly the laws," Einhorn said. "He's playing the innocent game."



An exasperated Einhorn returned to Las Vegas, hoping French would do as he asked and get rid of the bunk beds. He held onto the idea that French had everything under control.

And French did have things under control, until one of the "indentured servants" decided he wanted to marry and live with a woman named Kay Quesada.

An Informal Agreement With The Master Tenant

French gave Quesada one week to pack her things and move out.

It was Labor Day and Quesada had been living in the Secret Mansion since January, when she moved in with her 28-year-old husband, Alex Trunov.

Trunov had a "very, very informal" deal with French where, in exchange for maintaining the three Airbnb rooms, for which French charged about $2,800 a month, and five "pods" that went for about $1,100 a month, he could sleep in the windowless basement, Quesada said.

Compensating an employee with housing is a legal and common practice in New York City, according to Louis. Just ask your building superintendent.

And both French and Trunov — who did laundry, construction, plumbing and basic maintenance in the house — agreed the bargain was mutually beneficial.

"I was seeking for help, I was on the street," said Trunov. "[French] brought me here."

"What we're asking isn't grueling labor," French said. "It's just asking him to keep the place clean."

French asked the couple to start paying him $400 per month in rent in April and Quesada promised to help Trunov with the laundry as well, she said.

But French disputes Quesada's account. He claimed Quesada was spending occasional nights in the apartment and he never gave her permission to move in, so she cannot be considered a legal resident.

"You can't be grandfathered in because you're married," French said he told her. "At no point did this girl have any arrangement. Just because Alex did, doesn't mean she did."

But Louis, an expert in New York City real estate laws, contended that since Trunov was effectively employed as a superintendent, he was protected by occupancy laws that forbid landlords from separating families.

"You can't let or lease in such a way where you are excluding a family member," Louis said. "Definitely not spouses."

Louis also noted that it is illegal to rent out windowless basements. "You can compensate somebody with room and board," he said. "Only assuming it's a legal cellar."

Tensions mounted quickly.

As Quesada struggled to balance the workload and her school work at the Queens college where she studies political science, Robin420 took to Reddit to seek financial advice.

His business was apparently in trouble.

Department of Buildings inspectors had caught on to the secret parties and hotel rooms, Robin420 wrote in May.

City records show multiple complaints, dating back to 2017, alerting the Department of Buildings that 846 McDonald Ave. was being used as a party space and unofficial nightclub.

Robin420 was also hurting financially. "I feel rather unstable because of my Con Edison bill," he wrote. "In the summer with the central air on it gets up to $3K … It's killing me."

Robin420 posted a plea for help about the same time Einhorn said French stopped paying the rent.

Einhorn said he contacted French and demanded payment, but was told no rent would be paid until Einhorn fixed problems with the air conditioner.

"You're making so much money," Einhorn told him.

"I have a big overhead," French replied.

The breaking point was dishes.

According to French, he asked Quesada to leave when she refused to clean up after herself. But according to Quesada, French told her he was the "master tenant" and if she wanted to keep her home, she needed to do his dishes.

"I don't want to do his dishes because they're extremely gross," said Quesada. "But he said, 'I'm gonna kick you out.' So we told him, 'We'll do better.'"

Quesada tried to keep up with the work, "resetting rooms, resetting rooms, resetting rooms," but on Labor Day, French told Quesada she had one week to pack her things and go.

"I was crying all night looking for different apartments," said Quesada. "A week is not enough time."

This is correct, according to Louis. As a super, Trunov was entitled to court proceedings before French could evict him or his family members from the home, the real estate attorney said.

"The notion that she was not allowed to stay there is absurd," said Louis. "The entire time the super is there, for every other type of law, he is treated like a tenant."

Quesada spent the next week cleaning and doing the dishes, but French was not appeased, she said. He threatened to call the cops on her if Quesada didn't leave.

Quesada said French warned her, "Don't get crazy with me."

'You Think You've Earned Your Keep'

Imani Henry, an activist who runs the anti-gentrification group Equality 4 Flatbush, was in a taxi headed home from a tenant meeting the rainy night of Sept. 12 when Quesada called from the bathroom and said the cops were coming for her.

"It was Kay's word against all these other people," said Henry, a vocal critic of 911 calls on people of color. "This person's life could be taken … I redirected the cab."

Inside the house, Quesada said she faced off against French and two of her relatives (who asked not to be named in this story) whom French had contacted on Facebook and summoned to take Quesada away.

Video from that night shows French telling Quesada her husband's live-work deal does not guarantee her a place in his house.

"We are talking to everyone and everybody thinks you're a piece of s---," French shouts. "I just want you to know how disgusting you look."

"You think that you've earned your keep here by doing what he's supposed to have done to stay here."



It was shortly afterwards that Quesada's relatives arrived and the situation became violent. French said the women were shoving one another and Quesada told Patch her relatives were scratching, kicking and pushing her.

"I wanted to call for help," Quesada said. "I kept begging to go to the bathroom, but they wouldn't let me."

This is when French adds a detail that Quesada, Trunov and Quesada's relative refute: that French called 911 and reported Quesada wanted to harm herself.

"There was a knife on the counter," French said. "She grabbed it and said, 'Get away.'"

French called 911 at a controversial time in the service's history.

Since the death of Saheed Vassell — the Crown Heights man shot down by police who mistakenly believed he carried a gun — Henry's group has been pleading with New Yorkers to think carefully about calling armed NYPD officers to police people of color.

And Brooklyn state Sen. Jesse Hamilton recently proposed new legislation that would make discriminatory 911 calls a hate crime after he was the subject of such a call by a self-proclaimed Trump supporter.

"This pattern of calling the police on black people going about their business and participating in the life of our country has to stop," Hamilton said at the time. "You shouldn't have your life put in danger due to ignorance."

But French said he believed Quesada was a threat to herself, so at about 8:50 p.m., 10 NYPD cars and two ambulances arrived outside the Secret Mansion, according to police and Henry, who had gathered a small group of protesters outside.

"This is not a psychotic episode," Henry said he told the cops. "No one is wielding any knife. There was violence toward her in the house."

The cops walked past him and entered the house. Minutes later, they returned with Quesada.

Quesada had attempted to explain that her landlord was trying to evict her and asked police to look at surveillance video she believed could prove she'd never touched a knife.

But she said the emergency responders were cynical and French declined to share the video. Eventually she gave in and left the Secret Mansion with police.

Emergency responders took Quesada to Maimonides Hospital, where doctors spent 15 minutes examining her before she was released without any charges being brought against her, said Quesada, Henry and police.

After the ambulances left, French gave Quesada's relatives her possessions and changed the key code on the front door, he said.

"Some people have big pride," Quesada's husband said of French. "Some people think they are bigger than other people."

A Whole Muddle Of Illegalities

Quesada and the Equality 4 Flatbush legal team headed to Brooklyn Housing Court Sept. 20 and filed a petition against French.

"I'm going to take them to court for harassment and for illegally locking me out," Quesada said. "My plans are very, very hard right now."

The petition — which charges French with entering Quesada's home without consent, evicting her illegally and giving away her property — will be argued on Sept. 25, according to Quesada's legal services coordinator Sophia Dalal.

Quesada hopes that a judge will allow her to return to the Secret Mansion so that she'll have someplace to go next week, when the friend she's staying with will no longer be able to host her.

Louis, the Brooklyn real estate attorney, said Quesada could present a potentially strong case but said the fact that she has found legal representation is a rarity. Nonprofits such as his typically reject cases from transient renters reporting abuse, he said, because the cases are so difficult to prosecute.

"You have a whole muddle of illegalities that nonprofits aren't able to take on," Louis said. "That type of housing situation is fundamentally insecure."

Quesada has the support of Einhorn, who told Patch he was unaware of her situation until she contacted him last week.

"This poor lady, they threw her out for no reason," he said. "Like there's no law."

Trunov told Patch he's disappointed to have lost the friendship of a man who was at his wedding and who gave him a home when he had nowhere else to go.

"I couldn't ever imagine this happening," he said. "We were their friends. We used to eat at the same table and now we're all enemies. It's just really painful."

French has since served Trunov with an eviction notice that gives him two weeks to move out.

French, meanwhile, is aware of Quesada's intention to file suit and believes she doesn't have a case against him, and considers himself the victim of a smear campaign.

"We're still getting sort of harassed, we're getting death threats," French said. "She's gonna take us to court and we'd love it."

"Everything is sort of nonsense," he added. "A spoiled girl is trying to be vindictive here."

Despite the painful situation and the legal battle to come, Quesada told Patch she feels fortunate to have the support of Henry, Equality 4 Flatbush and her husband as she takes French to court.

"Lucky for me, I got myself involved with the community," said Quesada, "a large community ready to hold them responsible."

Note: Quesada and Trunov are identified by their legal last names in Peru and Belarus respectively, where they hold citizenship.



Header photos of 846 McDonald Ave. interior courtesy of Kay Quesada and exterior by Kathleen Culliton