Redemption

by Sally Fernandez

  “His cell appears to be out of range, but he promised to check in. I’ll tell him you’re trying to reach him. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Natalie’s voice began to crack. “We returned home last night. The house was completely ransacked. But all they stole was the art off the walls,” she wailed and then continued to babble. “They’re not worth much, but they were from my parents’ collection and have sentimental value. Each painting represented a childhood memory for Noble and me. Max, the house is a mess! Who would do this?”

  Max sensed that Natalie was waffling between hysterics and rage at that point and tried to help her to refocus. “Calm down. Did you call the police?”

  Struggling to regain her self-control, she acknowledged in a more even tone, “Yes, they came over and dusted for prints. They also happened to mention that there was a slim-to-none chance they’d find the intruder. Particularly given the lack of value of the paintings. But they said they’d check with the local art fences whom they knew to be dealing in stolen art.” She gulped a few times to hold back the tears, but failed. “Max, I’m scared! Mario and I are all alone in the house.”

  Max was flabbergasted. “Where’s Paolo?”

  “What! Noble didn’t tell you that he set him up with a client who needed him for some urgent assignment?” she questioned with a hint of annoyance. Then, in a calmer tone, she explained, “He’s supposed to be away for about a month. I’m waiting for his call now. It’s all so strange. And now this has happened.”

  “I’ll speak with the chief of police and advise him that I’ll be sending over our own forensics team. They’ll go over everything again. Don’t worry; I’m sure they’ll come up with something.” Max was making every attempt to put Natalie at ease—it was the least she could do for Noble’s family. But the level of defeat in Natalie’s voice made her feel even more helpless. “Do you want to stay with me?” she offered, mindful that Noble was Natalie’s only living blood relative and all of what remained of Paolo’s family lived in Italy.

  “No thanks. I’m just unnerved by the entire episode. We’ll be fine—really.”

  “I’ll get in touch as soon as I find out anything.”

  “Max, please call me as soon as you hear from Noble.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Odd that both Noble and Paolo should be away at the same time,” she said aloud. “Even odder, Noble didn’t tell his sister that he was going away.”

  From nowhere, Doris appeared at her door. “Did you need something?”

  “No, just conversing with myself as usual.” She paused. “On second thought, would you please get Hank Kramer on the phone?”

  “Right away.” Doris left to place the call.

  Max always had a knack for raising her antennae whenever the dots didn’t connect. This time she questioned herself as to why Kramer would pop into her head, but reasoned there had to be a link. She was well acquainted with the former president’s chief of staff, who earlier had been the campaign manager for both Baari’s senatorial and presidential campaigns. She was also aware that Kramer was a member of La Fratellanza—one secret Noble entrusted her with, which had been crucial to their investigation in the hunt for Simon.

  While contemplating, she caught the intercom light flashing.

  “Mr. Kramer’s secretary is on line one.”

  “Thanks, Doris.”

  “Hello, this is Deputy Director Ford with the SIA. May I please speak with Mr. Kramer?”

  “I’m sorry Deputy Director, but he’s on an extended leave with an uncertain return date. May I give him a message when he calls in?”

  “Yes—please have him call me.” As she hung the phone she thought, Curiouser and curiouser, and then shouted, “Noble, what the hell is going on?”

  21

  CURIOUSER AND CURIOUSER

  “Max, Amanda Kelley is on line one.”

  “Thanks, Doris.” What now? she thought as she reached for the phone.

  “Hello Amanda.”

  “Have you heard from Noble?”

  “Not in the past several days, but I’m expecting him to check in any time now. Haven’t you spoken with him?” Max was beginning to tire from the repetitive dialogue.

  “I left messages on his voicemail and I’ve texted him repeatedly, but he’s not getting back to me.”

  “He told me he may be out of range from time to time. Try to be patient. I’m sure he’ll contact you soon.”

  “Max, what’s going on? He was acting so strange for about a week and then out of nowhere, he announced he had to go away on a mission for a while. I’m really worried.”

  Max was too, but didn’t let on. “I’ll let you know when I hear from him.”

  “I don’t need this right now!” Amanda bellowed, in an extremely unusual manner.

  Neither do I, Max thought, but she set her concern aside and asked, “Amanda, is everything okay?”

  “Notwithstanding the fact that I’m trying to plan a wedding with the groom-to-be nowhere to be seen, I think someone is screwing around with my financial accounts.”

  “What makes you think so?” Without giving it a thought, Max had shifted into director mode.

  “Since Noble’s been gone, I’ve been flooded with medical bills that are not mine. A string of credit-card charges for things I never purchased. And the bank is sending me letters threatening legal action if I don’t make the back payments on a line of equity I supposedly had taken out on my home to the tune of one-hundred-seventy-five thousand dollars. I don’t have an equity loan!”

  Max listened to her rant, but Amanda had it right; somebody was royally screwing around. “I’m sorry to say, it appears you’ve become a victim of identity theft. And it’s unfortunate there’s not much the authorities can do. This type of theft runs rampant and there’s no way to keep ahead of it. Reportedly, there are over ten million people a year in the U.S. that become victims.”

  “That’s comforting, coming from the States Intelligence Agency.” It was clear that Amanda was not pleased with Max’s advice.

  “I’m sorry, Amanda, but it falls back on you to rectify. You’ll first need to submit a report to the Federal Trade Commission. Hold on—here’s the number: 877-IDTHEFT. Also, go to their website and complete the Identity Theft Affidavit, which you can then print out and give to your local police precinct. You’ll need to report the crime there as well.”

  “Anything else?” she groaned.

  “Don’t forget to notify the three major credit agencies, Experian, Equifax, and TransUnion, to have a fraud alert placed on your file. And definitely, notify the IRS. Most likely, your Social Security number was used to obtain a medical insurance card and the equity loan. Also, I would suggest you change your bank accounts.”

  “That’s it?” Amanda was exasperated that Max couldn’t offer her any better guidance.

  “Other than to watch your accounts. There may be more activity.” She was certain they were not the words Amanda wanted to hear, but the sooner she responded, the more chance Amanda would have to restore her financial health.

  “How could this happen?”

  Max could hear the despondency in her voice and resisted overloading Amanda with any more unpleasant information. “Take the necessary steps to protect your identity at all costs and trust nothing to the Internet. I wish I could be more helpful, but it’s virtually impossible to trace these crimes, unless we suspect someone, giving us some plausible lead. Is there anyone you can think of who would do this to you?” She gave it one last shot.

  “No one! Please have Noble call me as soon as you hear from him.”

  “Good night Aman…” The call ended before Max could finish. How rude, she thought.

  This is all so odd. First, Natalie and then Amanda, at a time when Paolo and Noble are out of contact. She continued to ruminate. There has to be a connection. “Kramer is missing too!” she murmured.

  She never knew who the other members of La Fratellanza were and suspected she
never would. But one thing she did conclude, aside from Paolo and Kramer, was that there were two other men who also worked on the same political campaigns for the former president.

  Having yet to reel in her antennae, Max placed a few calls.

  22

  HUDDLED MASSES

  They had been debating the issues for the past two weeks. For the past four days, they had been battling over immigration. Not surprisingly, Hank was on the receiving end of most of the brickbats. So with the morning rituals out of the way, the group convened around the table, raring to proceed with the next round.

  Chase didn’t hesitate to launch the discussion, but with an unusual moment of levity. “Paolo, would you like to start after yesterday’s ten-rounder with Hank? Or has the final bell rung?” He grinned.

  Paolo bowed to Chase from a seated position and gladly began. “Over the past eight years, the majority of jobs created went to immigrants, both legal and illegal, crowding out American workers from the workforce. We all know this to be true; we were the ones pushing the policies while we were in control.”

  “Are you starting in with that tired old theory again? Paolo, I’m disappointed in you,” Hank rebuked. “Immigrants competed across the board from low- to high-skilled jobs, losing out most of the time to native-born Americans.”

  “Then how do you explain why the number of immigrant job holders increased as domestic job holders declined?”

  “Excuse me?” Hank questioned.

  The others listened, curious as to where this line of banter was taking them.

  “It was the policies that we helped shape in the last administration that exacerbated all the problems!” Paolo stated categorically. “And don’t tell me it was unexpected. A certain former president said as much in his book, The Audacity of Hope.”

  “Please,” Hank chastised. “That was when he was a junior senator.”

  “It doesn’t make it any less true.” Paolo reached for his tablet and said, “And I quote, directly from the man himself:

  ‘Still, there’s no denying that many blacks share the same anxieties as many whites about the wave of illegal immigration flooding our Southern border…Not all these fears are irrational…The number of immigrants added to the labor force every year is of a magnitude not seen in this country for over a century. If this huge influx of mostly low-skill workers provides some benefits to the economy as a whole—especially by keeping our workforce young, in contrast to an increasingly geriatric Europe and Japan—it also threatens to depress further the wages of blue-collar Americans and put strains on an already overburdened safety net.’”

  Hank and Paolo continued to joust until Noble stepped in to keep them on point. He said, “The fact remains that in 2014, even before the Immigration Reform Act made it to Congress, ninety-nine-point-five percent of the applications applying for legal status were approved. Two hundred and fifty thousand formerly illegal immigrants waltzed into the workforce, ahead of those waiting for years to enter legally.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Hank posed, equally willing to take on Noble.

  “I’ll throw the question back to you. Is it fair to those who played by the rules? How well screened do you think the applicants were, considering they were required to have a high-school diploma or equivalent degree, with no criminal record—ninety-nine-point-five percent is quite an amazing hit rate, wouldn’t you say? Are we living in Brigadoon?” Noble asked in frustration.

  “I still fail to see your point,” Hank challenged.

  Paolo rejoined the fray, eager to make a point. “After the act stalled in Congress and Baari signed the executive order granting Amnesty, allowing over six million plus illegals to avoid deportation, the flow of illegal immigrants steadily increased. Aside from the potential criminal element, the existing job market has been invaded by workers who have monopolized lower-paying jobs, at a time when jobs are not being created to accommodate the unemployed.”

  “Paolo, you know as well as I do; we need immigrants to fill the vacant jobs created by an aging population. We’ve already discussed why people are dropping out. Don’t forget the baby boomers. Immigrants only help to create a younger workforce,” Hank reminded.

  “Even if that is true,” Chase interjected, “current federal regulations will continue to hinder job growth, no matter the makeup of the workforce. A time will come very soon when even the immigrants are unable to get jobs given the current trends. Then they’ll join millions of unemployed Americans looking for relief, placing an even greater drain on government resources—meaning a growing demand for assistance will be funded by a smaller base of taxpayers.”

  “When it comes right down to it,” Paolo insisted, “citizenship is not the prime goal for many immigrants crossing the border. They’re not just here for jobs, but also for healthcare for their families. Reportedly, over three million illegal immigrants signed up for the Universal Healthcare system—and the system has never been reconciled. Hank, you can’t negate the fact that seventy percent of legal immigrants take some form of government subsidies. That’s much higher than the suffering general population who pay their bills.”

  Noble eyed Hank as he geared up, ready to pounce, but Noble didn’t hand him the opportunity to belabor the point further. “You’re all making effective points, but we’ll get nowhere if we allow our ideology to cloud our thinking. We are a country of immigrants. There will always be a segment of immigrant workers willing to take lesser-paying jobs than those of traditional American workers. The economy depends on it. But this debate is not getting us any closer to finding a surefire solution to solve the widening gap between available jobs versus the unemployed.”

  “Other than freezing immigration.” Paolo persevered. “We blew billions of dollars while trying to deport over a hundred thousand children. Open your eyes; the government is disinclined to stop the influx of illegals. Sealing the borders is the only answer.”

  “It’s never going to happen, nor should it. These immigrants are future generations who will add to the GDP as they have throughout modern history,” Hank retorted. “There is no empirical evidence that immigration is going to have a negative effect on the job market. That’s the mantra of the ‘Party of No’ fodder.”

  Paolo pushed back. “Hank, take off your blinders. Don’t lose sight of the fact that hordes of immigrants, who crossed our borders illegally, created a humanitarian crisis. We spent over three billion taxpayer dollars, including yours, to process the children and families from Central America in 2014, most of whom slipped through the net. Our border patrol have become caretakers and are stuck with duties that have taken them away from their first responsibility to protect our borders. That left the floodgates open for more to enter illegally, including those with criminal intent. Today, three years later, many of those children are still in this country, feasting on government aid.”

  Chase came to Paolo’s rescue. “And as long as the administration’s policies continue to encourage illegal immigration, it will continue to be an impediment to an unsullied competitive job market. The constant incursion is destined to become unsustainable. It’s been reported that during the great influx of 2014, over seventy percent of the illegals caught at the border failed to report back to the authorities as ordered when they were released to other family members already in the U.S. Not surprising, but not returning the children to their country sent a bigger message. Because of our open borders they are still coming in. As far as they’re concerned the border is a huge welcome mat.”

  “Hank, we’re speaking about illegal immigration, not those waiting in the queue.” Paolo reiterated. “The immigration law today sets the cap at seven percent to any one country, thus controlling the total number of people allowed to enter the United States in a single year. For refugees the cap is a total of seventy thousand people from any corner of the world. The last administration—our administration—gummed the bullet and allowed illegals to enter this country unabated. You can’t deny the facts,” P
aolo underscored, as if to rest his case, but he carried on. “Baari’s amnesty ignored the long-held quotas and flooded the labor market, which in turn added to an economic imbalance, not to overlook our national security. And if you wonder why this is happening, think about the fact that over fifty percent of the illegal immigrants consistently support the Democratic Party.”

  “What the…” Hank attempted to blurt out.

  Noble cut him off. “Back on point!” he admonished, attempting to stop any further digressive debate.

  Hank dug in his heels. “Excuse me, Noble, and the rest of you who conveniently keep quoting the non-partisan CBO. You might find it interesting that they recently released a report claiming that granting amnesty to illegals would naturally increase the size of the labor force, but as a result, we would see an increase in both capital investments and productivity. As a direct consequence, your statement omits a key part of that report.”

  “The CBO also reported it would produce a glut in cheap labor producing higher unemployment. Hey bro, it’s already happened,” Paolo countered.

  Seymour, having been silent up to that point, felt that one issue had been overlooked. “Aren’t we forgetting the employer? The influx of immigrants in the past several years has created a disincentive to increase wages, making it impossible for American workers to earn a living wage. To that end, there is a greater divide between Americans and immigrants competing for jobs. More and more protests are breaking out in the streets, many of them violent. The American workers feel they’re fighting for jobs, at the same time they are competing for government subsidies that are also handed out to illegals. Household income is the overriding issue.”

  “Right on point!” Paolo agreed. “And even when the job picture improves, millions of people who might have re-entered the workforce may be less willing to sacrifice subsidies, if they’re only able to compete for low-wage paying jobs that lower household incomes.” With a wink and a nod at Hank, he added, “Kind of takes the audacity out of hope.”