Justice in June

by Barbara Levenson

  “What was the owner’s name?”

  “Let’s see. I still have his card in my wallet. The shop is EXPORTS ‘R’ US, and the owner is Guillermo ‘Billy’ Martinez,” William said as he passed the card over for me to see. “See it says ‘everything electronic.’ I should have remembered the owner’s name. It’s the same as mine, sort of.”

  I gulped and reached for my daiquiri which I downed in two swallows. Gladys’s husband owned that shop.

  “Did you give him my name?”

  “Sure. He needed all your information. I filled out the forms for him. Name, occupation, home and office addresses. You know, for the billing and the warranty. Is anything wrong?”

  “I’m not sure. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Do you know this guy?”

  “I’ll tell you all about this when I finish with a case I have right now. Listen, you can do me a favor. I have to meet some guy who won’t give me his name. He says he has information about Luis. You know, the Martins’ friends’ son from Argentina. The no-name guy is going to meet me in the parking garage. I’m a little uneasy. Could you just watch from a little distance, until I see what’s up?”

  “Mary, are you crazy? You can’t go meeting strangers in a garage. Luis is the terrorist suspect, isn’t he? Why did you agree to such a meeting?”

  “I have to find Luis. This is our first good lead. Just stand there until I give you a signal to go away, or if he’s a nut case, I’ll just leave and run right over to you. It’ll be fine.”

  “You’re leaving yourself totally unprotected. You could be kidnapped.”

  “I’m not unprotected.” I opened my purse so William could see Carlos’s gun.

  William slapped himself in the head, and I realized how much he looked like Dad.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  At five minutes to seven, I walked to the parking garage under the hotel. William walked a safe distance behind me. I was still stunned about Billy Martinez being the person who knew all about me. Gladys knew Liz had been coming to my office. Billy got a windfall opportunity to harass me when William walked into his store. I felt certain that all the threats were coming from Gladys and Billy, and not from anyone involved in Luis’s arrest. I also felt certain that Gladys was the one who was setting up Liz.

  I looked over at the garage elevator and saw a beefy older man looking around at the few passersby still in the garage. Rush hour was over and the evening crowd had already arrived so foot traffic had slowed. The man looked like a cop with his short hair and muscular build. I moved slowly toward the elevator.

  The man smiled as I approached. “You’re Mary Katz, right?”

  “You’re the man who phoned me?”

  “Of course. Please, I’m not here to hurt you in any way. Look, here’s my card.”

  I glanced down at the card, while still trying to keep my eye on Mr. No-Name. But here was his name, Sergeant Jim O’Malley, Federal Corrections Officer, South Florida Region.

  “You’re a prison guard.” I breathed a sigh of relief and realized my hand holding the card was shaking.

  “Yes, and my meeting you and giving you the info about Luis could cost me my job. I’m only a few years from full retirement. I’m gambling that you’ll keep my name out of this.”

  “Does this mean Luis is still in Miami-Dade County?”

  “He was as of three o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the South Dade Detention Facility in an isolation cell.”

  I glanced over at William who had started toward us. I signaled him by shaking my head. He frowned and retreated around a corner, but I had the feeling he was still waiting for shots to ring out.

  “How do I know this isn’t some trick just to keep me from locating Luis?” I asked.

  “Well, you don’t. You just have to trust me, I guess. Look, I’m the only officer on the day shift who is allowed access to Luis. There is one other officer who has the three to eleven shift. During the night, no one is allowed into the isolation area. Every day the feds question the kid for hours. He’s not allowed to shower or exercise. I feel sorry for the kid. He’s a mess. Spends most of his time, when they aren’t hassling him, in his cell crying. When no one’s around, he and I talk — mostly about his family and how sick he feels.”

  “Do you speak Spanish?”

  “Sure. We all had to take conversation classes, so I can talk to him, and he knows a lot of English when he’s not too nervous to remember it.”

  “What made you decide to risk so much to contact me?”

  “I saw the press conference on TV. Rumors are that they’re trying to decide where to move Luis. A few days ago the rumor was that they were going to send him to Egypt for further interrogation. That usually means torture. Then yesterday the lieutenant told me that they were waiting for transport to Guantanamo, which could be in the next couple of days. That’s why I had to contact you. It don’t seem right to me.”

  “Sergeant O’Malley, you’ve done a wonderful thing. I will never tell anyone where I got this information, not even Luis’s parents. I just pray that I’m not too late. Just remember, if you ever need legal help, it’s yours for free.”

  “Geez, I hope I never have to take you up on that.”

  O’Malley looked around and then walked away. I stood staring at his card as William popped up beside me. I noticed that he was perspiring heavily.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  I rushed back to the office and drafted an emergency motion for a restraining order to keep Luis from being moved from the local detention facility. I still hadn’t received any answer to my petition for habeas corpus, not even notification as to which judge it had been assigned.

  I closed up the office and proceeded back downtown to the night depository for filing emergency federal motions. I was exhausted, hungry, and I noticed I had ripped another pair of panty hose. I fervently wished that the courts would finally convert to electronic filing. Then I could have filed my motion right from my home computer while wearing shorts and flip-flops instead of shredded panty hose.

  By the time I pulled into my driveway, all I could think of was food and bed. Instead I was greeted by a police car parked in the swale in front of my house. Now what?

  I stepped out of the car and saw that Detective Avery was getting out of the police car.

  “Hello, Detective, what are you doing here?”

  “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time,” he said.

  “They’re all bad times lately. Why are you here?”

  “I have some information I wanted to give you.”

  “That’s what telephones and e-mails are for.” I didn’t even try to hide my annoyance.

  “I felt this was important enough to warrant an in-person visit, and to give you a warning. You know I haven’t dropped the investigation into your assault. You told me you’d keep in touch if anything else occurred out of the ordinary, but you didn’t bother to let me know about the break-in at your house. Fortunately, we cross reference cases and victims with the suburban departments. Were you aware that a print was lifted in your bathroom that matched that of a guy our narcotics unit has been watching?”

  “No, I didn’t know that. I haven’t been home much lately. I guess I haven’t checked my home voice mail in a while.”

  “The print belongs to a Colombian national. Our narcotics boys are investigating a tie to the victim found murdered at the Floridian Inn. That’s why I came all the way out here tonight. You may be in danger. Maybe you need to ask the Coral Gables Department to put a watch on your house.”

  “I thought that murder victim was from Argentina. What’s he got to do with a Colombian suspect?”

  “Turns out he wasn’t an Argentine at all. He was from Colombia.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been rude, Detective. Thank you for being concerned and coming over here. Do you know the name of the guy whose fingerprint was a match?”

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you.
I’ll get in trouble if I screw up the narcotics unit’s investigation.”

  “I’d really like to know. I’m involved in a high-level investigation, myself, involving an elected official. I can promise you, your name will never come up.”

  “Well, okay, his name is Billy Martinez.”

  I gulped but tried hard to keep my face expressionless. I also realized I was keeping a lot of names confidential. I needed another file in my BlackBerry.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  I walked into the house without remembering the mess in the bathroom. It was a shock to walk into the bathroom and read the threat on the mirror again. Between the lipstick letters I could see my own face, which looked unusually pale. My nerves were stretched thin.

  I changed into shorts and flip-flops, packed a bag with clothes and makeup for work, grabbed Sam and his food, and headed for Carlos’s house. It was after ten when I drove into the driveway in Pinecrest.

  Two other cars were in the circle in front of the house. I decided to knock instead of just barging in. Carlos opened the door. He looked startled.

  “Mary, are you okay?” he asked.

  Sam didn’t wait to be invited in. He rushed into the hallway and headed to the living room. I heard him bark his angry low bark.

  “Carlos, get that animal out of here. He’s scary,” a high female voice said.

  “I’m sorry to barge in without calling. I decided to take you up on your offer to stay here for a little while, but I can hear that you have company,” I said, as I tried to back out of the door.

  Carlos grabbed my overnight bag from my hand and pulled me inside. He led me towards the living room. “You know Marielena and this is Margarita.”

  Margarita was Carlos’s ex-wife. I recognized her name at once. I glanced at Marielena, the Martin family busybody, who was grinning like an alligator. Margarita was prettier than I had imagined in a little girl sort of way. She had a round face and pouty lips. A handkerchief was balled up in her fist, and she appeared to be crying. Sniveling might be a better way to describe the noises she was making.

  “I can see you’re in the middle of a discussion. I’ll just take my things up to the bedroom,” I said. I watched Marielena’s smile fade. “Then I’ll feed Sam.”

  “They were just leaving,” Carlos said. He took Marielena’s arm and helped her up from the sofa.

  “What about what I asked you?” Margarita said as she followed them into the foyer.

  “I’ll let Marielena know tomorrow, but this is absolutely the last time,” Carlos said.

  I heard the heavy mahogany front door close. Carlos came back with Sam at his heel. “Mary, I’m sorry. Let’s get you unpacked.”

  “No, this was a mistake, just coming over here. I’ll go back home.” I grabbed Sam’s collar. Carlos pulled me to him and held on to me. I couldn’t move. I really didn’t want to move.

  “I want to tell you why they were here. Margarita keeps running up credit card bills and getting herself in a jam. Marielena and Margarita became friends when we were married. She brought Margarita over here to ask me to bail her out again.”

  “Again? You mean this has happened before?”

  “Several times. I made the mistake of giving her a large sum of money in order to get her to divorce me. She keeps turning up like a bad peso.”

  “I think you mean penny. Doesn’t she have a job?”

  “She worked for Pablo Guerra’s art gallery for a while. But she was so unreliable that he fired her.”

  “Why doesn’t her family help her? Or Marielena?”

  “Her family really can’t help her. They have four other kids and they barely make ends meet. I suggested that Marielena loan her some money, but she claims that she barely gets by on her alimony. She’s been divorced for years and soaks her ex real good. I guess that’s her advice to Margarita too.”

  “Well, Carlos, put a stop to it; that is, unless you want her around.”

  “Of course I don’t.”

  “Then get rid of her once and for all. I’m beat. I just want to sleep. I’ll take the guest room.” I stomped up the stairs.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  I actually managed to sleep until six the next morning when Sam woke me. He was pawing my arm.

  I showered, fed Sam, and walked him. The neighborhood was peaceful and smelled of night blooming jasmine. The first light streaked the sky with a pink glow, a sign that it might not be raining today.

  Carlos was in the kitchen when I returned. The smell of strong coffee filled the air. I sat down at the breakfast bar and gratefully took the mug of coffee that Carlos handed me.

  “I am so sorry about last night,” Carlos said. “I wanted you to stay here with me. I know you’re having a tough time at work, and I wanted to make a quiet, safe place for you. Instead you got Marielena and her garbage. Margarita means nothing to me. She was like a bad dream in my life. I just hope you understand that.”

  “You’re right about work being tough right now,” I said.

  “My business isn’t going well either. I know how much your career means to you, because I feel the same way about mine. See, we do have things in common.”

  “Carlos, I can’t worry about our relationship right now. I have to get to the office. Today is going to be important to Luis and to another important case. That’s all I can think about now. If I can get through today, maybe we can have the weekend together. I’ll come back here this evening. My house is still a mess from the break-in, and now I know who’s harassing me and why.”

  Carlos put his arms around me. “Don’t worry about anything. Just come home safe. I’ll get someone over to your house to clean it up.”

  Reluctantly, I pulled away and got ready for a fearful Friday.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  “You look terrible. Are you sick?” Catherine asked as I sprinted into the office.

  “Thanks. What a confidence booster. No, I’m not sick. At least, not yet.”

  “Well, good, because the clerk’s office at the federal court just called. Judge Martin Hammel will hear your emergency motion at nine thirty this morning. What emergency motion?”

  “The one I wrote and filed last night after I met the whisperer downtown. I now know where Luis is. You can read the motion on my computer.”

  “That’s great news. I can’t believe the whisperer turned out to be a real informant. Which judge is Hammel? His name isn’t familiar.”

  He’s a senior judge, still handling half a caseload. He must be well into his seventies, but he’s a great judge. He believes in the balance of power and he won’t be pleased with the government ignoring the constitution. I’ll grab Luis’s file and get going.”

  “What do you want me to work on?” Catherine asked.

  “Call General Consul Marquez and ask him to meet me in Judge Hammel’s courtroom. Oh, and call Louisa Perez. She’s the interpreter I use. Ask her to stand by in case I can see Luis this afternoon,” I said. I was almost out the door when Catherine called out.

  “Mary, what about Liz’s case? You told me to have her here at noon today? I called her yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Double-check that she’ll be here by noon. I’ve got to brief her about the fake drug case. And find out the name of that attorney who’s suing Carlos. I can’t even remember it. See if I can see him Monday afternoon.”

  “Don’t take any new cases for a few days,” Catherine said, as I slammed the office door.

  Judge Hammel was already on the bench when I raced into his courtroom. He was in the old federal building that had once been the downtown Miami post office. It was built before air-conditioning, which means there are windows that beam natural daylight into the courtrooms. In the center of the building is an open courtyard with Spanish-style tiles. I always feel like I’m part of a movie set when I come to this courthouse, like Twelve Angry Men or To Kill a Mockingbird, except that I wouldn’t have been in the movie. Women didn’t practice law in those days.


  “Welcome, Ms. Katz. We are here on your emergency motion to block the federal government from removing your client from this jurisdiction. I have also been assigned your petition for habeas corpus review. I can’t address the petition this morning because the government hasn’t been notified of that hearing,” Judge Hammel said in his still-strong baritone voice.

  “Thank you, Your Honor, for hearing me so quickly. I did file a copy of this morning’s motion in the U.S. Attorney’s night depository box last night.”

  A youngish looking man stood by the plaintiff’s table. He looked uncomfortable. Probably hoping he wasn’t putting his job in jeopardy. “Yes, Your Honor, Francisco Alito, assistant U.S. attorney for the government. Judge, I was sent over to cover this at the request of our Washington office, but only our Washington office is handling this matter. And they aren’t present.”

  “Well, Mr. Alito, aren’t you government lawyers fungible? Sort of like dollar bills. One’s as good as another. You’ll do for this hearing. Now, Ms. Katz, suppose you give me some background in this matter, and try to relax. If you clutch that piece of paper any tighter, it’ll probably disintegrate.” The judge smiled.

  I looked down and realized the papers I was about to hand the judge were wrinkled and sweaty. “Judge Hammel, I’m passing to your clerk several cases that I believe show that Luis Corona is being falsely imprisoned. Luis Corona arrived in this country from Argentina three weeks ago. He has been held in secret since two days after his arrival. He has never been afforded a hearing to set conditions of release. He was entitled to that within the first twenty-four hours of his arrest. Further, he’s never been charged with a crime and has no idea of the reason he is incarcerated. If this were the state system, he would be entitled to release on his own recognizance for the state’s failure to file charges against him or to inform him of the reason for his arrest.”