Illegal Page 18

  Stanislaw Kaluza took out a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket. The glasses were the kind that Gustaf used. Granny glasses, Gustaf called them. Stanislaw grabbed the note from my hand and read. His eyes softened as he handed the note back to me.

  “Who wrote that?”

  “Mrs. C. Mrs. Costelo.”

  Now it was Stanislaw Kaluza who turned white as a ghost. “Irene Costelo?”

  “Yes, Irene Costelo. She said you could help me.”

  Stanislaw waited for me to say more. I was tired. I didn’t want to play games with this man or anybody else. If he was willing to help, fine. If not, I would move on.

  “I’m looking for someone in law enforcement who can help me,” I said.

  “Help you how?”

  “Find the man who is trying to kill me and my sister.”

  “Irene Costelo said I could help? Tell me exactly what she said.”

  “I told her I needed to find someone in law enforcement I could trust. She wrote down your name and St. Hyacinth Basilica. She said you were a policeman, probably retired, but you would know how to help me.” I didn’t think it was necessary to mention the “rough around the edges” part.

  “Did she tell you how she knew me?”

  “Yes.”

  The pupils in Stanislaw Kaluza’s eyes widened and then I saw the eyelids close. It looked almost as if the man was treasuring the memory of something forgotten long ago. When the eyes opened again, they were not the mean-looking eyes that had come to the door.

  Stanislaw spun around and went inside the house. Then, without looking back, he shouted.

  “Well, come on in and close the damn door!”

  * * *

  Stanislaw made what he called a Polish dinner. Three kinds of sausage, potatoes, fried eggs, and something he called a “Krakow bagel.” He leaned back in his chair and yawned.

  “So, here’s my take on your situation.” He poured coffee into what looked like a beer mug. I had spent the last two hours talking and talking some more. I told Stanislaw everything. Probably more than he needed to know. I started five years ago from when my father first came to the United States and ended with the phone call I received from Sandy Morgan on the steps of St. Hyacinth Basilica. I knew there was a risk that Stanislaw would call ICE. All I knew about him was that Mrs. C said I could trust him. But the more I talked and the more carefully he listened, the more I believed that Mrs. C was probably right. Besides, I had no choice but to trust him.

  “Yes?” I said impatiently. Stanislaw’s mind had gone someplace else all of a sudden. When he came back, he said, “The guy that’s calling the shots, this Big Shot, is the same guy who Abe Gropper saw in Washington. We should be able to find out who he is from what you told me. Some deputy something or other in the Department of Labor. Then, we got that partial license plate number. I’ll head over to Michigan Avenue first thing in the morning and get Frank to chase that down.”

  “Michigan Avenue?”

  “That’s where Chicago Police headquarters is located. Frank’s my old partner. Frank Jaworski. We were together for ten years until he got his detective’s shield. They used to call us Arctic and Antarctica. You know, as in the two Poles? He’s younger than me, so he stayed on. He’s retiring next year. I’m also going to get Frank to check on Gropper’s trip to Washington.”

  “We have to get that guy before he does anything to my sister.”

  “We’re going to move as fast as these old bones can go. But we can’t just go in and grab these people. We need to have proper evidence against them so we can arrest them and so that we can put them in jail for a long time.”

  “All the evidence you need is in this cell phone.” I pointed to the metallic bag at the end of the table. “There’s stuff in there that people want very badly and are willing to kill for it. Can Chicago Police open the phone first thing tomorrow?”

  “They could open it, all right. But without getting a warrant first, they couldn’t do anything with the information in it. So let’s say they grab this guy in Washington. First thing he’d do is get a big-time lawyer who would say that the arrest violated his rights because it was based on the information on a phone that was opened without a warrant.”

  His rights? What about my sister’s rights?

  “Then don’t arrest him. Just tell me who and where he is.”

  Stanislaw laughed. “I like your spirit, boy.” He got up and walked to the sink with his plate.

  “What if I opened the phone and gave the police the information in it? Couldn’t they act on that information? Police act on citizen tips all the time, don’t they?”

  Stanislaw turned, looked at me like maybe I wasn’t as dumb as he thought. “Yeah, that would work.”

  “There’s only one problem,” I said, tapping Hinojosa’s phone. “I have no idea how to open it. Do you have a computer? I can do some research tonight.”

  Research of any kind, on a computer or on an old-fashioned book, was not one of my major strengths. But I would do what I could.

  “Hold on. Let me make a call.” Stanislaw disappeared into the living room, where I heard him use the old landline phone there. He was smiling when he entered the kitchen again. “I got an expert on cell phones coming over tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon?”

  “It’s the best I can do. And the timing works well. I need the morning to investigate Gropper’s trip and the license plate and work things out with the chief at headquarters and maybe talk to the district attorney. I got to get a whole bunch of people on board, you know. But I got a feeling that they will be interested. It’s not often that they get a chance to put a human trafficking ring out of business.”

  “And rescue the women who are slaves in some form or another.”

  “Yes.”

  “And my sister? Can Chicago Police get her out of the detention center?”

  “I don’t know. That’s a tough one, even for CPD. I’ll make some inquiries. But … let’s think.” Stanislaw pulled out a chair and sat, his forehead wrinkled in thought. “If we call down there, let’s say. If I get Frank to call and identify himself, I’m afraid that might make them hurry up and do whatever bad stuff they were thinking of doing. They’re not planning on doing anything until Thursday night. So we got three days. Let’s see if we can nail this bastard before then. That’s what I would do.”

  I liked Stanislaw. Good old Mrs. C knew just the right person. “Who’s the expert that’s coming?” I picked up my plate, walked it to the sink.

  “Aniela, my granddaughter. She and her mother live a few blocks from here.”

  I stopped in my tracks. His granddaughter? Are you kidding me? I was barely able to keep my mouth shut. I had to find a way to let Stanislaw know how important it was to find the right person to work on the phone. I would try to do it without hurting the man’s pride. But if that didn’t work, then let his pride be hurt. My sister’s life was at stake. I gulped the last bit of coffee in my cup, then, after clearing my throat, I said, “Opening a cell phone is tricky. Whoever works on it needs to know what they’re doing. If you try and fail, it becomes even harder to open.”

  “It becomes even harder to open, huh? Listen, I wouldn’t be telling you Aniela could do it if she couldn’t. And you better act like a perfect gentleman around her.’’ He paused. “You know how I knew the note you showed me was written by Irene?”

  I shook my head.

  “The note said my name was Stan. I never let anyone call me Stan except Irene. I hate the name Stan. You call me Stan and I’m like everybody else. My parents named me Stanislaw so everyone knows where I was from. You can call me Stanislaw or you can call me Kaluza. Period. I had that rule when I was in the army and the same rule held for the thirty-six years I was with the Chicago Police Department. Only exception was Irene. She used to tell me I needed to assimilate and become Stan. You know what I used to say to her?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I said that to assimilate
was to be the same ass as everyone else. ASS-i-mi-late, get it?”

  “Yes, I think I do.”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass.”

  I waited for the grin that I knew would eventually come. When it came, I asked, “What time did you say Ariela was coming?”

  “Aniela, dummy, Aniela. It means God’s messenger. And God is going to be keeping a watchful eye on you, don’t you ever forget that. Between His eye and my two, we got you covered. She’s coming around two thirty. Walking directly from school. You might want to take a shower. I’m going to give you a pair of my old pants. You’re gonna have to shorten the legs considerably. I’ll give you scissors, needle, and thread. Make the stitches small so no one sees them. I got some old sneakers that might fit you. Put those things out back and let them breathe for a while.”

  I looked at his feet and then at mine. His were bigger. I decided I would keep my smelly boots. Who did I need to impress? His granddaughter?

  Stanislaw began to clear the rest of the table. “You and Aniela work on the phone, and me and Frank will do the old-fashioned police work.”

  “I’ll wash them.” I took the dishes from his hands.

  “Thanks. I’m going to get my things ready so I can leave first thing tomorrow morning. Haven’t been back at headquarters since I retired.” He started to walk out of the kitchen and then stopped. “Listen, I wouldn’t make too much out of your father waiting for you at the station. I can see how he thought returning the phone was best for you and your sister.”

  “And you, what do you think? Do you think he was right?”

  “I’m an ex-cop. I like what you’re doing. Put the son of a bitch away. It’s risky but …”

  “But …”

  “At least you and your sister have a chance of making it out alive. If you gave them back the phone, you’d have no chance.”

  “I could be on a bus to Mexico right now with ten thousand dollars.”

  “Yeah, right! You would have shown up the next morning at this Able Abe’s house and the tall blond in the gray Mercedes would have taken the phone from you and then he would take you to the bus station. Only, you would have never made it to the bus station. There’s no way these perps would have let you live. No loose ends. That’s the rule. Trust me. This is thirty-six years of chasing bad guys speaking. You are a loose end they need tied.”

  “What about my sister? Is she a loose end right now?”

  “They need your sister alive until they find you. They’re hoping that you change your mind and return the phone. They’re going to try to send you a message, though. You think this woman who called you this afternoon is on the up-and-up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if Big Shot got to her and told her you got until Thursday night or else?”

  “No. I don’t think so. She sounded worried about Sara. Scared for her.”

  But what if Stanislaw was right and they had threatened Sandy Morgan? Now they would have my cell phone number. I reached into my pants pocket and turned my burner phone off.

  “All right, enough talk. Let’s hit the sack.” I followed Stanislaw out of the kitchen. He had climbed up the first two stairs when he turned back to speak to me. “Look. It’s your phone. I know you got doubts about Aniela. You don’t know her like I do. Listen to what she has to say about how she would go about opening it, and if you don’t think you can trust her with the phone, then just tell her. She’s a tough cookie. I know her and I know what she’s capable of doing, but it’s up to you. We’ll find someone else if that’s what you want.”

  I nodded. Then Stanislaw bounded up the stairs two steps at a time. He seemed happy to have a task and a mission again. And I was glad he was moving fast.

  I don’t know how I made it until 2:45 p.m. When the front door opened and Aniela walked in, I was a desperate mess. All day I could barely keep myself from calling Sandy again. I had finally forced myself to be patient and to trust that Stanislaw knew what he was doing, when I saw the young girl’s face and was immediately disappointed. I had expected a female replica of tall and sturdy Stanislaw. But Aniela was … delicate. That’s the word that came to mind when I saw the brown hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail, the porcelainlike nose and gently curved lips. She was wearing black athletic shorts and a gold shirt with a logo of a bulldog on the upper left side. She jumped back when she saw me in Stanislaw’s recliner. I pulled myself out with difficulty, trying not to look disappointed. There was no way this frail-looking schoolgirl could unlock Hinojosa’s phone.

  “You must be the famous Emiliano!” Aniela dropped a gym bag on the sofa and stretched out her hand. Her voice belied her slight frame. Her eyes and tone were as determined and confident as her grandfather’s.

  I stood and shook a hand with a powerful grip. I could feel the energy inside her. So at least there was that. I got the immediate sense that it would be easy to talk to her. Now all I had to do was find a way to tell her that she had walked all the way to her grandfather’s house for nothing.

  “Famous?”

  “Excuse me, I have to get some water. We had a small accident at the end of physics lab, and I had to stay and clean up.”

  The mention of a physics lab made me feel a little better. I knew from personal experience that brains were needed in a physics lab. I turned to watch her run into the kitchen. Her thighs, I now saw, had the firm roundness of an athlete’s. Maybe she wasn’t as frail as I first thought.

  She came back out of the kitchen drinking water out of a plastic cup. She saw me watching her and smiled. “Famous because my mom and I were like stunned when Grandpa told us he had taken you in. It just didn’t sound like Grandpa. Plus, he said nice things about you.”

  “Nice things.”

  “He said you got gumption. Gumption is big in Grandpa’s world.” There was shyness in her laugh.

  “Gumption? Is that like moxie? I learned that word just recently.”

  “Kind of.” She laughed. “Moxie’s not a word Grandpa would use. But it could work.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence when I could not think of anything to say. Finally, I pointed at the bulldog on her shirt. “You play sports?”

  “Soccer,” Aniela said, putting the plastic cup on the coffee table next to where I had been sitting. She looked briefly at the Guns & Ammo magazine I’d been reading before she sat down and folded her legs. “Or fútbol, as you would say.”

  An unexpected bubble of warmth burst inside me. I sat down on the sofa in front of her and realized that one of my pants legs was longer than the other. I had massacred Stanislaw’s pants and there was no place to hide my legs. And if that wasn’t enough, every trace of the English language had vanished from my brain.

  Aniela saw that I was having trouble finding words, so she continued. “I play sweeper. I would love to be a forward, of course, but my coach puts me in defense.”

  “Defense is good.” I was finally able to speak. “But, right now, we need to play offense. Did Stanislaw tell you why I’m here … in his house?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. We need to get down to business. Where’s the cell phone?”

  I tried not to sound skeptical. “You know about cell phones?” But I could tell by her smile that she saw my doubts.

  Instead of answering my question, Aniela said, “What I thought I’d do was take a look at the phone and then do the research as to how best to open it. I’m not going to try anything until I know what has the best possibility of working.” She paused as if to see if her words were giving me confidence. “What do you think?”

  “Research is good,” I said. I remembered my days at Colegio México. There was nothing I found as boring as research. But research was also what Sara was good at. Finding out the truth about what happened and finding out what procedure would unlock a cell phone—there was similarity between those two, no? I stood to go get the phone, and then sat down again. I ran my hand through my hair and looked for the right place to start. I
wanted to convey to her all that Sara had gone through because of that cell phone, but the story seemed too long and complicated and maybe I didn’t need to tell it.

  “I know a little from Grandpa about how important that cell phone is, but it might be good for you to tell me.” Apparently, Aniela could read minds. She leaned back in the chair, ready to listen to me.

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “Maybe I don’t need to tell you all of it. At least not right now. What I wanted to say about the cell phone, I think you already know.”

  “What is that?”

  “That people have risked their lives and … are still risking them because of that cell phone. That people have died because of it, that my sister’s life might depend on what we do. That we should do it fast.”

  “Okay,” Aniela said, her eyes moistening. Then, embarrassed, “Well, let me see the damn thing!”

  I grinned.

  “What?” Aniela asked.

  “Just then, you sounded like your grandfather.”

  “Keep saying stuff like that and the cell phone will be the least of your worries.”

  I climbed the stairs, silently laughing. When I came down, Aniela had her laptop open. She spoke to me without lifting her head from the screen. “Why don’t you tell me about the phone itself. Tell me everything you know.”

  I placed the metallic bag with Hinojosa’s phone on the coffee table. “A policewoman gave us the bag to prevent the phone from being tracked,” I informed her.

  “Smart woman,” Aniela said, looking at me. “What else?”

  “My sister and I think the owner used his fingerprint to open it. No one has touched the phone because we didn’t want to smudge whatever prints were there or add new ones.”

  “That was smart too.”

  “I was supposed to give the phone to someone who would help me open it and also help me with the information that was in it. But that person can’t help me anymore.”

  “I did some research about how to open the phone last night after Grandpa called. But I think we should look to see if the phone has a memory card. People who depend on their phones for their business, who use them as mini computers, sometimes install large memory cards so they can store their documents and carry everything with them. Maybe the owner did that.”