A Sense of Justice

by Jack Davis

  After averting the Chinese Crisis, Morley focused on moving the case forward.

  “Jaime, I need you to work with Kruzerski and Murray on the language for the search warrant for Miguel’s apartment.

  “Brian and Lionel are exhausted. I want you to do most of the writing. Do what you can to limit Anthony’s exposure, but time is critical. I want to execute the warrant the next time Miguel is out of his apartment; we need it ASAP.”

  “You got it boss, I’ll let you know as soon as it is signed.”

  At the same time, Morley directed Swann and Greere to do what they did best: use the internet. They found out as much about Miguel as they could as quickly as possible. Sitting at a coffee shop three blocks from the apartment, they started their searches. Greere accessed the ECTF databases and handled all the public searches—utilities, phone, taxes—of which there were no records.

  Swann, putting on his grey hat, hacked into a local wireless network to dig into the private areas of Miguel life. He looked at the suspect’s internet accounts and their usage, and other areas that couldn’t be viewed without certain levels of access, skill sets…or judicial authorization. Based upon how it was obtained, the information could never be used in court, but due to its detailed nature, it was invaluable in building the case.

  The two fed off each other. As one gained intel on a name or credit card used by the suspect, he passed it to the other. Additional checks were run that developed further associations. Within two hours, they had a spreadsheet of six aliases they were sure of, and three others they suspected. The aliases were tied to six social security numbers, four addresses, five PO boxes, four bank accounts, two lines of credit, and at least eleven credit cards. There were warrants out for two of the known aliases and one of the suspected ones. The credit cards had a reported fraud loss of $271,000. Most importantly, one of the credit card numbers was tied to the pharmaceutical hack.

  With all the technology and intellect focused on unearthing every possible aspect of Miguel’s life, Kruzerski and Murray took immense satisfaction in being the first to identify his real last name. They did it through gumshoe police work. Kruzerski placed a call to a friend in the Postal Inspection Service. He was provided three names receiving mail at the address. The first two were aliases previously uncovered and eliminated; the third was Miguel Orantes.

  Part Seven

  30 | Family Feud

  Mexico City, Mexico 2004

  Alvaro was skeptical about meeting his brother-in-law, Miguel. For years Maria had built up her older brother. When they had first started dating, she told Alvaro how her father had taken Miguel to live with relatives in the States to keep him away from the dangers of Mexico City. Maria didn’t have to say the words street gangs; it was understood by Alvaro. She related how smart he was and how easily he had learned English. She explained that Miguel got good jobs immediately and sent money home to help the family. She idolized her older brother.

  So, it wasn’t surprising to Alvaro when it came time for their Guillermo to be baptized, Maria asked Alvaro if Miguel could be the godfather. Seeing how much it meant to the woman he loved, he agreed. With the approval, Maria squealed happily and rushed to call her parents.

  Alvaro was surprised later that day to see his father-in-law at his door. Maria greeted him as always with the enthusiasm of a loving daughter. When she moved to the kitchen to make some snacks, an unusual look came over the old man’s face.

  “I have to talk to you,” he looked for Maria, “alone.”

  Alvaro, having a lot of experience in conversations that he didn’t want overheard, was up to the task. “Maria dear, I’m going to have your father look at my car for me. I heard a strange noise yesterday.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep everything warm for you two.”

  Alvaro’s mind shot from one bad scenario to another during the elevator ride. When they reached the garage, he couldn’t contain himself. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about…about Miguel.” He paused as if searching for how to begin. “Miguel is not the person Maria thinks he is.” He looked at the garage floor, “He’s not the man I wish he was.”

  “I don’t understand. Maria said Miguel—”

  “I know what Maria says…thinks. But it isn’t…

  “Miguel was our first child, and my oldest son. He was a good boy. When he first got to the US, he stayed with my sister Carmella in Texas. She treated him like her own. She got him in a school where he learned English and got him a job in the fields. He sent money every month. We counted on it.” The old man fidgeted and rubbed his eyes.

  “Then Carmella said he started taking drugs with his friends. The calls, money, and letters slowed, then stopped. It killed Maria’s mother.”

  Alvaro saw his fathers-in-law’s eyes start to water.

  “The lies about why there was no more money hurt more than the money stopping.”

  Alvaro saw the pain at the sense of betrayal that the old man still felt. He put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “Carmella told Miguel he had to leave after the boy fell asleep and his cigarette caught her couch on fire. It destroyed the couch and other furniture. Carmella had two small children at the time and for their safety, she told Miguel he had to go.”

  The old man took a deep breath before continuing. “She might have let him stay if…It was his attitude. Nothing mattered, nothing was important. The drugs were the only thing that he cared about.” The old man’s cadence got quicker. “He wasn’t even really sorry about the fire. Instead of being really sorry and…and offering to pay for it, Carmella said he tried to make fun of it by saying it was an old couch anyway. She said he was like that with everything. Everything was about him. She couldn’t take it anymore.”

  Alvaro had known enough junkies to know exactly what his father-in-law was describing. “When did he move to New York?”

  “After Carmella told him he had to leave, she said he told her he was moving to New York with some friends. He told her the jobs in New York were better because they didn’t make you bake in the sun like a piece of clay.

  “Things must have been good for a while, because we started to get money and letters again and a call sometimes. It was like I had my son back again. Then, I don’t know, the money and letters slowed and stopped. I think he started drugs again.”

  Alvaro could guarantee it was the drugs. He’d seen it a thousand times. Users, with the best intentions, would swear off drugs thousands of times, only to be pulled back in a thousand and one.

  Suddenly, Alvaro felt a bottomless guilt. He’d been part of the drug problem for so many people, men and women—more accurately, boys and girls—in his community. How many Miguels had he taken from families? He tried to push it out of his mind but couldn’t until his father-in-law started speaking again.

  “I spoke to Miguel earlier today, after Maria told me you had agreed to allow him to be Guillermo’s godfather. I was sure he’d say he couldn’t come, it was too expensive, he was busy, some excuse.” He stopped. “But he didn’t, he said he’d be honored, that he really wanted to see everyone, and meet you.

  “After that I thought about lying to Maria and telling her he couldn’t make it, but I know how much she loves her brother, and how happy it would make her.

  “I’m happy for Maria that Miguel is coming home for the baptism.” Then he looked Alvaro in the eyes. “I’m also happy for Maria that she doesn’t know everything about her older brother.”

  “I understand,” said Alvaro.

  Moving to New York had brought more than just a temperature change for Miguel. The clean break from his past in Texas also brought a clean lifestyle, initially. He spent five months completely clean, and then another four only using marijuana. Then he was introduced to cocaine and the gradual spiral downward began. It went in fits and starts, with Miguel getting the better of his demon for weeks and even months at a time, but like most addicts, his resolve
would eventually waver, and he’d relapse. He lost three separate jobs in the next two years and was firmly set on a path toward becoming a lifelong criminal.

  He was in a relapse when he received the call from his father asking if he would be the godfather to Maria’s son. Miguel loved his sister…as much as he loved anyone other than himself, but he’d agreed to come home with one thing in mind, and it wasn’t a baptism.

  Miguel’s trip was his first time home in just under six years. That, and living in New York, made him a minor celebrity. He relished the attention, and while he didn’t know it, the fuss bothered Alvaro. Somewhat because he knew more about the prodigal son than the others, and some because he felt Maria and little Guillermo should have been the centers of attention. In the end, since it made his wife happy that her oldest brother was there, Alvaro kept his tongue. Maria was in fact overjoyed, believing that Miguel loved her enough to come home for the first time in six years to stand up for her son. She would never know how wrong she was.

  So it was that when Alvaro met Miguel, he saw him as he truly was, not through the eyes of his loving, trusting bride.

  Alvaro could smell the marijuana on Miguel as he approached. The brother-in-law’s first mistake was putting his arm around Alvaro’s shoulder. “Varo, my brother; welcome to the family.”

  Alvaro, who wasn’t fond of being touched by any man, certainly didn’t like it from his attention hog of a brother-in-law. He gave Miguel a look to let him know he had crossed a line. Miguel’s hand slipped to his side and the two started walking.

  “Thank you,” said Alvaro, not bothering to look at Miguel.

  Miguel tried to say something to make up for his indiscretion in familiarity. “I’m sorry I missed your wedding. From the pictures I saw, Maria looked like an angel.”

  “Angels wish they were as beautiful as her,” said Alvaro in a deadpan tone that denoted disinterest in the party talking.

  “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Then, without enough of a pause, Miguel changed topics. “I have a question I need to ask you.”

  Alvaro stopped walking and stared at Miguel. He didn’t say anything, just stared. He could tell Miguel felt as uncomfortable as he hoped he would. He waited.

  “I heard you’re a Jefe in the Latin Kings.”

  Alvaro almost had a newfound respect for Miguel as he thought he was going to take on the role of the eldest brother.

  “Your father and I already talked about that. I would never put Maria in any—”

  Miguel’s next sentence dropped him back into the I will put up with you for Maria’s sake category again.

  “No, no, no, I wasn’t worried about that; I know that. I was just hoping you might have work for a family member. I—”

  “Stop.” Alvaro set down his drink. He glanced at Maria to make sure she wasn’t looking before he grabbed Miguel by the arm and ushered him toward the door. With his voice in a low growl, he said, “This is a talk we won’t have in your parents’ house.”

  Once outside, Alvaro noticed there were still too many guests, so he decided he would make the conversation short and one-sided. “My son was baptized today. I don’t want to talk about anything except my child or beautiful bride. That’s it. NOTHING else today!”

  He released Miguel’s arm, turned, and went back into the house to be with Maria and Rosalinda, who was holding her squirming brother. When he reached the trio, Maria frowned.

  “You look unhappy, on the day our son was baptized. That makes me sad,” whispered Maria.

  Before he could answer, she instinctively kissed him.

  “You’re not allowed to be unhappy today.” She kissed him again. In a second, he closed his eyes and forgot about everything else but his beautiful child and young bride.

  It wasn’t until the next day that Alvaro thought about Miguel again. By eleven-thirty, Alvaro had been up for a few hours catching up with his lieutenants on what had happened over the weekend. After those meetings Alvaro had poured a third cup of coffee. He saw Miguel coming through the courtyard of the apartment complex.

  Here was another good reason for he and Maria to move to the new high rise—a doorman to keep out unwanted visitors. He knew it wasn’t chance that brought Miguel to their home the couple’s first day after the religious ceremony. He had no doubt Miguel was looking for a free lunch and whatever favor he had tried to ask of Alvaro the day before. His instincts were right. He moved to the front door, hoping to meet Miguel outside and stop him from entering the apartment. Before he made it, Maria came bounding into the room and jumped into his arms. She kissed him with the unbridled joy of a young woman in love until they heard the loud knock; one more thing that Alvaro would hold against Miguel. Maria skipped to the door, and having been trained by Alvaro, looked through the peephole before asking, “Who is it?”

  She smiled toward Alvaro. “It’s Miguel. He’s come to see his godson. Isn’t he sweet?”

  Loving the joy in his wife’s smile, Alvaro returned it and nodded.

  Maria opened the door and gave her brother a huge hug. Before Miguel had even shaken Alvaro’s hand, Maria had invited him to lunch.

  Showing fake astonishment, Miguel asked, “Is it that late? I really shouldn’t. I just came over to see the kids. With so many people yesterday, I hardly got to see them.”

  “Miguel, I’m afraid Guillermo is napping, and Rosa is at a friend’s house, but please stay for lunch. Please.”

  Miguel, eyeing Alvaro for some sign, got none. He looked back to Maria, and with even more fake sincerity, said, “I’m not sure that Alvaro wants me to stay; I can come back some other day.”

  Maria turned to her husband with a quizzical look, then back to her brother. “What do you mean?” Turning back to Alvaro. “Varo you want Manu to stay for lunch, don’t you?”

  “Si.”

  Maria, no longer confused and once again happy to see her brother said, “I told you. You two relax in here while I make us some lunch. We’re having carnitas, okay?”

  Miguel called after her, “Anything is fine with me. Don’t go to any trouble.”

  Alvaro liked Miguel less every second. He wasn’t about to make the conversation any easier for him.

  Miguel, taken off guard by the hostility, readjusted and tried small talk. “The weather here is hotter than I remember. New York is nice this time of year.”

  “You’re not here to see the kids or talk about the weather. You’re here to talk about what you tried to talk to me about yesterday, on the day my son was christened.”

  “I’m sorry. I had too much to drink and I was stupid.”

  Alvaro kept a cold stare on his brother-in-law, but was silent.

  “I think I can help you with some things where I live in the States. I think it’s a good area for the Kings to work. There are—”

  Alvaro shook his head. “The Kings have people in New Jersey. We don’t need any help there. Anything else?”

  Caught off guard again with no ready-made lie, Miguel reverted to the truth. “I want to be able to help my family. You understand, I have responsibilities. I’m never gonna be able to do what I should without some help. I’m coming to you asking for support, for my family. I have ideas; I can make good money, but I need help starting out.”

  Miguel had touched a nerve with Alvaro. Miguel, being the oldest male child, had responsibilities in the Mexican family. Alvaro couldn’t know that Miguel was grasping at straws and as always, only thinking of himself. Alvaro was now the one caught off guard. “So, what is it you want from me?” he asked in a more sympathetic tone.

  “I think with some protection and a good source, I could move a lot of drugs a month. I would pay you—”

  Alvaro cut him off. “I’m not in the drug business anymore, and even if I was, I would never allow you to get involved. You’d be arrested or killed, and Maria would blame me. No.”

  Alvaro’s mind moved through the problem. If he didn’t do something, Miguel would go to some other gang boss and try the same appro
ach. Alvaro knew he would be taken advantage of until he had proven himself, and to prove himself, he would have to commit crimes he wasn’t cut out for. If Miguel didn’t go down the initiation road, he would most likely be used until he could be set up to take the fall for someone else. Then he would be spending five or more years in prison, something else Miguel wasn’t cut out for.

  If on the other hand Alvaro agreed to help Miguel in some criminal endeavor and Maria found out, she would be crushed. She didn’t want to think badly about anyone she loved, and for some reason Alvaro couldn’t understand, she loved Miguel.

  Alvaro saw himself undoing everything his father-in-law had tried to do and everything that his wife found good and noble. But the alternative in his eyes was worse.

  Alvaro took a long, hard look at Miguel and made the decision he thought best for everyone concerned. It would keep the young man away from drugs and truly hardened criminals. Alvaro thought about the sweet girl cooking in the kitchen, and he sighed.

  Miguel was stunned when Alvaro said he wasn’t involved in drugs anymore. His brother-in-law must be kidding. How could one of the most prominent Kings in Mexico City be out of the lucrative drug business? “Not in drugs? What are you doing?”

  “Something that makes as much money and has half the risk, credit cards.”

  Thinking Alvaro couldn’t be telling him the truth, Miguel asked, “Credit cards? Is there much money in it? I mean some guys at the car wash I used to work at would steal a number from time to time, but I think drugs would be easier for me.”

  “There’s more money in credit cards than you can imagine and it’s much safer than drugs. You have to know what you’re doing.” He looked toward the kitchen. “Because of Maria I’ll help you with that part, but she must NEVER know!”

  Miguel got the message, “No.” Miguel looked toward the kitchen. “Never. I promise.”