Eyewitness (Thriller/Legal Thriller - #5 The Witness Series) (The Witness Series #5) (20 page)

“If I did, there wouldn’t be much left of him,” Randy laughed.

Archer squeezed into the room and together they lifted the toilet. It was a nice piece of porcelain. They put it inside the bedroom. Randy looked in. “Maybe I can fix where I scratched it. I hope so. Not much margin on this job.”

Archer stepped out of the bathroom and Randy stepped back in, picked up the pry bar again, and dug into the pipe.

“Got it!” He pulled out the metal probe and with it came the thing he’d been fishing for. Grinning, he turned toward Archer to show off his prize. Archer was duly impressed. In fact, Archer couldn’t take his eyes off the cheap blue jacket dangling from the pry bar.

***

One of the security guards stood upright near the door of the conference room. The two men were on the sofa: the older man sat comfortably, the younger man was still wired. Montoya had drawn a chair up in front of the sofa, but he got up when Josie came in and huddled with her briefly.

“Did you get Hannah settled?” he asked.

She nodded. “She’ll stay in Billy’s room. They took off the restraints.”

“That’s fine,” he said, not quite satisfied. “Anything else I should know?”

Josie shook her head and fell back. Thankfully, Montoya had no more time to waste on her. He sat down again and gave his full attention to the men on the couch.

“My name is Mike Montoya. I am a sheriff’s detective. Do you understand what that means?”

“Police. You are police,” Gjergy answered.

“And you?” Mike looked at the younger man.

“Yeah. I’m okay. I live here. I’m a citizen,” he said.

“That’s very good. You are not in any trouble, but we are concerned about the woman in that room and why you were there.”

“Who is that woman?” The older man cut his eyes toward Josie.

“That is Josie Bates. She is representing Rosa Zuni’s son, Billy.”

“She is not his family,” Gjergy stated.

“No. I’m a friend and his attorney,” Josie answered. “I watch out for his well being since his mother can’t.”

The young man leaned toward the older one and whispered. He chose his words carefully and they came haltingly. Life in America had almost wiped out the language he once spoke.

“Gentlemen. We would be grateful if you spoke English.” Mike directed his comment to the younger man. “I need to get some basic information from both of you. What’s your name and where do you live?”

“I live in San Pedro,” he mumbled.

“Your address?” Mike asked.

“200 Rose Avenue.”

“And your name?”

Mike raised his eyes. His pencil was poised. He appeared to wait patiently for the answer. In reality he was looking at the young man and wondering why he didn’t lead with his name.

“Sam Lumina.” Mike gave no indication that he had heard that name before from Kat Oi, from Dan Jenkins, from Torrance police department’s reports on the union behavior outside Marshall Fasteners. “My name’s Sam Lumina and this is my uncle, Gjergy Isai. He’s visiting. Look, we weren’t doing anything wrong. We don’t need guards or nothing. We were just-”

“Stop.” Gjergy’s hand came up. “This man will ask in his own time.”

The only indication that Mike Montoya was a little perturbed that this man seemed to be giving him permission to do his job was a smooth, small smile.

“And your name is Gjergy? Could you spell that?” The old man did. “And your last name?”

“Isai. I am Gjergy Isai. I am from-”

“Thank you. The name is good for now. Let’s start with Mr. Lumina. I’ll try to be expedient.”

Mike purposefully went to the younger man, curious to see if the older would take exception. He didn’t. He sat straight and tall and seemingly disengaged. Everyone in the room knew he wasn’t.

“Mr. Lumina, where do you work?”

“I’m a machinist.” Again, Mike noted, he did not answer the question.

“Are you employed?”

“Yeah. I work at Marshall Fasteners. Look, I don’t know why you made us come in here. I just don’t understand this at all.” He wiped his forehead. His eyes never quite connected with Mike’s as his frustration grew.

“You’ve been having some kind of excitement over there at Marshall,” Mike noted conversationally. “Mr. Oi, the owner is dead. Did you know that?”

“I heard,” Sam said.

“I understand there was a lock out. I also understand there was some trouble inside the building. Do you know anything about that?”

“Sometimes the boys get excited,” Sam answered. “Someone wanted to make a point, maybe. I don’t know who.”

“It was an interesting point that was made in Mr. Oi’s office.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, I heard about it. Somebody puts a knife in a dummy, but that’s not how Oi was killed so what does it matter? I don’t see any connection,” Sam snapped.

“The woman in the room where we found you was attacked in the same house where Mr. Oi was killed. Did you know that?” Mike eyes were still on his notebook. When there was no answer, he glanced up. “Did you?”

Sam Lumina shrugged. “Yeah. I know. That’s how I know she was hurt.”

“What is your connection to Ms. Zuni, Sam?”

“I don’t know her. She’s related sort of, but I can’t remember how. Everyone is related in the old country.” He sniffed and moved and postured like a school bully. Before he went on Gjergy interrupted.

“You must forgive my nephew. He has had no dealings with police, so he is afraid.”

Mike smiled with well-practiced sympathy. A door had opened and he had walked through.

“And you aren’t?”

“No. I am not afraid. In my own country, I have been known by the police,” the old man said. “But here it is different. Here the police hope to help, I believe. This is what happens in America, is it not?”

“Yes, it is. We do hope to help people who deserve our help. We take great care in determining who is a victim but also to find out who is not.”

Josie moved and so did Montoya. There was a warning in the subtle shifting of his shoulders and it was for her. This wasn’t a courtroom; this was his arena. She fell back and remained silent.

“We know that Rosa Zuni needs our help,” Mike went on. “We don’t know why she was hurt or why Mr. Oi and another man were killed. We don’t know who might have done these things, and that’s why everyone is suspect. Including you.”

“That is wise.” Gjergy’s eyes hooded, his lips moved with the right words but twisted themselves into an expression of disdain. “In America many things go slowly, but sometimes you are not cautious. I appreciate, sir, that you are cautious.”

“That way we make fewer mistakes. We also like to know who we are talking to. Where are you from?” Mike switched back, trying to take the old man off track a bit but he turned just smoothly.

“Albania,” Gjergy answered. “Our country has been invaded many times but never by America. Perhaps that is why you may not know about my country.”

“How long have you been here?” Mike went on, unwilling to be drawn into the conversation Gjergy seemed determined to have. He didn’t care what went on in Gjergy’s country; they were in Montoya’s country now.

“Too long,” he answered. “I should have been going home now.”

“He came last Wednesday,” the young man interrupted. The old man’s shoulders drew back and his displeasure flooded the room. Sam took a stand. “You did. He came last Wednesday, and he’s been living in my house. My wife can vouch for that.”

“Thank you,” Mike said. “Mr. Isai, this will be quicker if you simply answer my questions.”

“I understand,” Gjergy answered.

“Did you arrive in this country last Wednesday?”

“I did.”

“Do you know anyone else in this country other than Mr. Lumina’s family?”’

“Yes. I know Albanians who have come here. There is a community.”

“May I have your passport, please?” He asked this of Gjergy and then asked Sam, “And your driver license, please?”

The young man fumbled with his wallet and handed the license to Mike who made notations and handed it back. Mike flipped through the passport, made more notes, and gave it back. “Are you here on business or did you come just to see family?”

“I have family business. The girl, she is my business. I have come to find her and the boy.” Gjergy lowered his chin and looked at Mike from under lowered lashes.

“That’s an interesting way to put it. You didn’t come to visit her?”

“No, not a visit,” he admitted.

“Why would you come all the way from Albania to find Rosa?”

Mike’s eyes went cold. Gjergy responded in kind. He looked at Mike and no one else.

“Rosafa has been missing from us a long time.”

“Rosafa is her given name? And what is her surname?”

“Zogaj,” Gjergy answered.

“And what is her relationship to you?”

“She is from my village. Our village is of the same clan.”

“But she is not a blood relation?”

“She is blood,” Gjergy answered. “We are of the same clan.”

“Over there, people are related by clans and then some. It’s different.” Sam Lumina spoke up. Mike acknowledged the information and then asked Gjergy:

“But Rosa’s immediate family? They asked you to come find her?”

“Her grandfather, he is dead, so I came to find her.”

“And Billy?” Mike pressed. “He’s her son?”

“No, he is her brother. She took her brother away with her,” Gjergy explained. “She went with a man who promised a better life, but it was not better. The man she went with promised her she would be safe.” Gjergy’s inflection went flat, his voice darkened, and he seemed to be looking through Montoya. “Rosafa should have known she would never be safe. She was a stupid girl for believing that. He did not keep her safe, did he?”

“How did you find her?”

“We hear things from those who live in this country. They send back news to Albania. This man took many young women away. This man, this Mr. Oi, he is known in our villages, but I only came for Rosafa and the boy. That is all.”

“Sir,” Mike Montoya asked. “Are you telling me that Mr. Oi was involved in human trafficking? Are you implying that Rosa Zuni was brought here as a sex slave?”

***

Mike Montoya, Josie Bates, Gjergy Isai, Sam Lumina and one member of the hospital security team made their way back to Billy Zuni’s room. Whatever the nurse had given Billy had calmed him but hadn’t knocked him out. He and Hannah were conversing quietly when Mike and Josie entered. Hannah was alert and suspicious, her green eyes first checking out Montoya and then questioning Josie who responded with a steady gaze. Hannah understood she was to remain quiet. She took Billy’s hand. The boy looked at her and then at the adults.

“Josie?”

“It’s okay, Billy,” she assured him. “Detective Montoya wants you to meet someone.”

Drained from everything he had already gone through, Billy made no objection. Montoya stepped forward.

“Billy, I'll have a lot of questions for you, but right now I only have one. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Mike raised his arm and flipped his wrist. Billy and Hannah looked toward the doorway, but Mike and Josie looked at Billy as Sam came into the room. “Billy, this is Sam Lumina. He lives in San Pedro. Do you know him?”

“No,” Billy answered.

Mike looked over his shoulder to see Gjergy was still half hidden by the curtain.

“Sir?”

Gjergy changed places with Sam and the room was smaller for it.

“This is Mr. Isai. He says he is related to you, Billy. Do you recognize him?”

Billy narrowed his eyes. He looked longer than Josie thought he should, but finally he shook his head. He was still shaking it when he said: “No, I don’t think so.”

“I know you, Besnik.” Gjergy Isai smiled at the boy in the bed.

2006

The car drove down the street of Bajram Curri. The man behind the wheel slowed as he approached the school. His narrow eyes watched the children as they came out of the building then slid to the mothers who waited at the top of the crumbling steps. He did not see
Teuta and this surprised him.

He stopped the car and turned off the ignition. Children were streaming out of the building now. He caught one, a young man too old to be in school. The boy pulled away, he was ready to fight. Then he looked in the big man’s
eyes and thought better of it.

“I am looking for the Zogaj children.”

“They are gone.”

The big man’s head tipped. “Where have they gone to? The mountains?”

“To America.”

The man let the tough boy go just as he caught sight of
Teuta, her arms held out to the youngest of her daughters.

There was no need to speak with her. She had done what a mother could do. It was not enough, of course. It only made things more difficult.

But life was always difficult, was it not?

2013

“This changes everything, Montoya.”

Josie picked up her coffee. It was hot and bitter, but this was a hospital cafeteria so she had not expected anything more than a passable cup.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Of course it does,” she scoffed. “Those two men handed us something you can dig your teeth into. If Oi was trafficking, maybe he crossed someone, they came after him, found him at Rosa’s, and that was that. Thank goodness Billy wasn’t in that house. Thank goodness there’s someone who knows his history.”

Mike Montoya rhythmically dipped his tea bag into his cup of hot water as he listened. A wisp of steam twirled above it. He understood all too well how new information in a dire situation could make one’s hopes rise. It was better, though, to temper those hopes. In Mike’s experience, they were dashed more often than not. Still, Eastern European organized crime was something he had not considered and it certainly wasn’t an idea he could dismiss. He set aside his tea bag while he considered Josie Bates.

When they met, she had been squared off and fearful of losing her hold on the great weight she carried. Now she looked off into some distance, imagining life was normal again: Billy was out from under the cloud of suspicion, the sun would shine on the beach, and the biggest professional challenge she would face would be representing a drunk driver. He would not have thought it, but Josie Bates was a romantic. Gjergy Isai was a fairy godfather who had come to save the boy prince.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to accept all that at face value.” Mike sipped his tea.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who think defense attorneys have no soul?” she quipped.

“I would never presume.”

Josie laughed and then scooted forward, crossing her arms on the table, lowering her voice.

“I’m just pointing out that this is a far better theory than Billy Zuni suddenly deciding to murder two men and assault his sister.”

“His sister,” Mike mused. “I have to say, I’m at least happy to have that cleared up.”

“I’m happy to have it corroborated. I always hated the thought that his mother turned him out.”

“It’s better if a sister does it?” Mike asked.

“No, but it explains a lot of things. She was younger than Billy when she came here with Oi. Whatever made her leave their home, whatever led her to that house and that job, was probably pretty bad. I think it is amazing that she kept body and soul together for both of them. Can you imagine what would happen if you’d been dropped in Albania and told to survive when you were that age?”

“I’ll grant you that,” Mike agreed. “But if Mr. Oi is the bad guy, what was he doing at Rosa’s house dressed the way he was?”

“Who knows what their relationships was?” Josie shrugged.

“What would you think if I told you that Rosa thought she had married Oi?”

“I would say Billy thinks the same thing. Is it true?”

“We’ve got something that appears to be a marriage certificate. I’m trying to authenticate it. It could be a ruse; it could be the way Oi got the girls over here. It would be hard to resist a pitch from a successful man who tells you he’s going to take you to America and that he wants to marry you.”

“See! There you go.” Josie pushed her agenda. “Rosa thought she was married. He gets her over here and sells her to some guy. Or maybe she was indentured, working off what she owed him at the club. You’ve got to find out if Undies has any connection to the Albanian community.” Josie was off again, extrapolating, anticipating, and eager to be done with this. She looked almost girlish when she widened her eyes and asked: “So?”

“So?” Mike responded.

“So you have enough to put Billy way down on the ladder in your investigation. Get rid of the officer. That kid is stressed enough.”

“I’m surprised you’d want me to do that. Mr. Isai suggested that whoever attacked Rosa Zuni also wanted to harm Billy. You should be pleased that I am going to keep that deputy outside his room. Don’t forget, we still have the knife.”

“We’ll stipulate to the knife. It’s worthless to Carl Newton. You know that.” Josie deflated. Her shoulders slumped, and she wrapped her fingers around the Styrofoam cup. “Billy’s not your guy, and you know it. And we have relatives now who will watch out for him.”

“Ms. Bates, do you mind if I talk to you as a friend?” When she didn’t object, Mike set aside his tea and laced his fingers. “I know you want to think that you can walk into Healy’s courtroom, he’ll wave a magic wand, and release Billy to Mr. Isai, but he won’t.

“The wheels of justice turn slowly. We’ll have to verify Isai’s claims. Even if we do that, you’ll be dealing with immigration for Billy and extensions for Isai. Lumina isn’t exactly all warm and fuzzy, so he’s not going to embrace Billy. Not to mention Lumina’s involvement in the union activities. Those guys aren’t off our list for these murders. Judge Healy won’t go for any of this. While these two are interesting, they aren’t the solution to your problem.”

“Lumina will do what the old man says if I can convince Healy this is a viable option,” Josie insisted.

“Fine then,” Mike answered, “Let me play devil’s advocate. Judge Healy releases Billy to Mr. Isai’s custody and they all hang with Lumina until Rosa is well. Then what? They go back to Albania one big happy family? Ms. Bates, Billy and Rosa don’t have passports. They don’t even have driver licenses or birth certificates that we can find. Do you really think Billy would want to be deported? Isn’t this his home?”

“You’re right. You’re right.”

Josie put her fingers on her temple and rubbed away the headache that was starting. She hated clutching at straws. She dropped her hands, gave him a reluctant smile.

“I don’t want to do your job, I just want to keep Billy out of the system. If Gjergy Isai makes that happen, I’m all for it. He’s the only one I’ve got, Montoya, and I’m grateful.”

“No one wants to take Billy out of the mix more than I do, believe me,” Mike said. “If trafficking is involved, then the attack on Rosa might have been meant as a message to other girls. That would explain the viciousness of it.”

“You mean whoever is behind this knew Rosa was going to the cops?”

“It’s a scenario I could live with,” Mike said.

“And I can think of ten more. I just don’t have the time to explore them all.” Josie was played out. “I’m getting married at the end of the month.”

“Congratulations.”

She blushed and Mike thought the handsome woman he had met days before became a beautiful woman as she thought about her wedding. Young, happy, and beautiful. Weddings could do that to a person.

“You’ve probably got a few family things that are going to the backburner, too,” she suggested.

“A few,” Mike admitted.

“Then we both need this to go away,” Josie said.

“It will, but we can’t cut corners even for a wedding.”

He was right and, since there was nothing to say, she let her eyes wander. Her gaze fell on an older man who was helping a little boy with his milk. Mike saw so much in her expression, but mostly he saw sadness. He could relate to that. He knew what it was like to want to desperately make something right that could never be made so.

“I’ll take the guard off,” Mike said.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He stood up and indicated her cup. “Are you done with that?”

When she nodded he took the cups and napkins and threw them in the trash. Mike picked up where he left off when she joined him.

“Why would such a rich man be involved in trafficking?”

“Men do a lot of things because they can,” Josie suggested.

“So do women.” The detective raised a brow but Josie countered.

“Women usually do what they have to. Maybe this was Jak Duka’s deal and Oi was helping him. Have you checked to see if they’re related?”

“They are not,” Mike answered. “Duka was a snitch, selling out the brothers.”

“That’s not smart. I wonder what the payoff was? If it were just the two men I’d lay odds on a union hit. But it wasn’t the two of them. But they are all Albanian.” Josie ambled toward the elevator with Mike Montoya. “Eventually you’ll figure it all out, the media will have a field day, and we’ll all probably be shocked at how simple it all was. But I don’t have the luxury of time. The hearing is tomorrow.”

“I’ll see if I can run something down on Isai.” They reached the wide hall. “I’m not promising.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mike Montoya put his hand out. Josie Bates took it before he walked into the elevator. When it closed, she thought she saw his demeanor slip just a little. He looked tired. Not that she could blame him.

She felt exactly the same way.