Searching for Pilar, page 26
“Once Rosa told me that she’d killed her husband with poison. She’d been angry because he’d been spending too much time visiting the girls upstairs. She said she was justified because he could have caught a disease from them and given it to her. She’d had him buried right away. She said he was fat, so she’d told everyone his heart stopped.”
“Do you believe her?” James asked.
“Yes. She told Tito to kill me the night of the raid because I knew too much. He tried, but he missed, and a policeman shot him in his leg before he could shoot again.”
“Did you write about anything else?” James asked, growing more excited with every revelation.
“I would write about Eduardo and Guillermo, how Eduardo sold us over and over and how he threatened to kill us and our families in Mexico. We saw Guillermo beat one girl almost to death to kill the baby inside her. He took one of Eduardo’s other girls, who was pregnant, away for a couple of hours. She told us how the doctor had forced himself on her before he’d cut out the baby. Then Eduardo made her go right back to work.”
Pilar, now speaking as if she were in a trance, told similar stories. James’s face looked angry and hardened as he sat down beside her.
“Angel was another pimp who sold girls at Los Arboles. He was a friend of Eduardo. I think one of Angel’s girls bled to death because they cut out her baby. We never saw her again after an old woman visited her room. There was blood all over the floor.”
James carefully turned on the recorder on his phone so that he wouldn’t miss anything she said.
“I hoped that one day after I was dead, someone would find what I’d written. Eduardo admitted many terrible things he’d done when he was drunk or in the mood to brag. He said he had been kidnapping girls for Rosa in Mexico for many years. He said he always got her the kinds of girls she wanted for her cantinas. He was angry that the cartel was now making Rosa use girls they’d brought to Houston, taking some of his profits.”
“Where is the third girl whom Eduardo brought from Mexico with you and Josefina?” James asked.
“Eduardo told me that Teresa is probably dead now. He didn’t care what happened to her if she couldn’t make money for him. Guillermo tortured her and then hooked her on heroin. When she couldn’t work, they sold her to a bad place.”
James had been holding his breath. “Do you think what you wrote is still in your room?” he asked.
“Probably,” Pilar said. “I hid the papers under a floorboard and then covered the board with my little bed. If Rosa had known about them, she would have been furious and had Tito kill me right away.”
“Good. We’ve got to do everything we can to put all of those bastards away for good.” Then James said, “You worked in the office. Robert told me the FBI did a thorough search but didn’t find anything in the way of records in there. Do you know where there are any ledgers, receipts, anything that could tell us about her business dealings?”
“The records of Rosa’s business aren’t at Los Arboles.”
“Do you know where they are?” James asked, surprised.
“Sí. When I needed old information, Rosa would give the key to Tito. He would drive me to a house farther down the street where she had file cabinets.”
James seemed hardly able to contain himself. He got up and started pacing the room like a lion ready to pounce.
“Could you find that house again, Pilar?” he asked.
“Sí, it was a light green house with a child’s swing hanging from a tree in the front yard. I don’t think anyone lived there, though.”
James asked another question. “Was Eduardo Ayala Rosa’s business partner?”
“Only in that he kidnapped girls that Rosa needed to keep her brothels full. He wanted to be more than that, and Rosa liked to flirt with him, but she was too smart to trust him.” Pilar thought for a minute and then said, “She did have someone to whom she paid twenty percent of the money from her businesses. She hated him and was afraid of him. She would curse him after his man picked up the money.”
“Did she mention this partner’s name?”
“She only called him ‘El Diablo.’ They spoke in Spanish on the telephone, but she left the office when she talked to him. His man’s name was Chacho. He was a big Mexican with tattoos all over his arms. He was friends with Angel, the other pimp who brought girls to work upstairs.”
Pilar laid her head down on the table again. “I am very tired, señor. Have I told you what you wanted to know?”
“Yes, everything you have told me is good, Pilar. It is very good.” James smiled. “You should rest now and let me take care of this.” James rang the buzzer for the guard to come and escort Pilar back to her cell.
• • •
Pilar was most comfortable and open when Mary was present, and Pilar had given James permission to share their confidential conversations with Mary. James appreciated Mary’s sharp, analytical mind. He wanted her to help him analyze a defense for Pilar, so James named Mary as co-counsel to Pilar in order to preserve attorney-client privilege. Mary had been keeping her boss at Legal Aid informed of what she and Diego had been doing, and the woman agreed to let Mary take as much time as she needed to work with James. Mary had never practiced criminal law, but James assured her that was not why he wanted her on the team.
At 4 p.m. on Friday, Mary, James, and Pilar were waiting in the same room at the detention center where they had been earlier in the week. Pilar’s attorneys sat on either side of her. Mary had never been in a detention setting. The somber nature of it made her nervous. Pilar reached out and held her hand, almost as if she were calming Mary. This was the first time James had seen Pilar take the initiative. He knew he had been right to include Mary in Pilar’s representation.
At 4:20 p.m., another male assistant US attorney and two FBI agents who worked for Michael Torres finally followed Robert into the room. Robert was wearing his usual dark attire.
“What is so important that you needed to meet with me right away?” Robert barked at James, glaring at Pilar. “And who is this?” he asked, looking now at Mary.
“Mary Chavez is my co-counsel on this case,” James said.
Robert stared at Mary. It was evident he was trying to place her. Then he smiled. “Aren’t you a ‘do-gooder’ lawyer down at the Legal Aid Clinic?” he asked. Then he snorted dismissively.
Mary wanted to retort, Yes, and I am also a Yale Law graduate and past editor-in-chief of the Yale Law Review. But she held her tongue. A female mentor had once told her it was a tactical advantage to have your opponent underestimate you.
James looked directly at Robert when he spoke. “My client can lead you to hard evidence that can win your case, Robert.”
“What evidence?” Robert asked. He glared at Pilar again, but Pilar did not look at him, as Mary had instructed.
“My client kept a journal of sorts in her prison cell at night. From what she tells me, entries in that journal reveal details of Rosa’s holdings, which extend much farther than Telephone Road.”
“The county deed records only show that one property,” Robert said. “Why should we believe this girl?”
“Señora Chavez, if you please,” Mary interjected.
Robert snorted again. His colleagues looked down so as not to show their expressions.
“Rosa put titles to properties she’d bought in family members’ names. She ran cantinas and bordellos all over Southeast Houston. According to my client, the revenues were funneled through Los Arboles,” James replied.
Robert leaned forward, interested but still skeptical.
“Rosa also told my client that she’d murdered her husband. She also instructed Tito to kill Señora Chavez on the night of the raid,” James went on.
“Many of Rosa’s men tried to keep women from escaping; I don’t think that means anything special,” Robert said, shrugging.
“Rosa realized my client knew too much. I’ve verified what happened with one of the deputies who witnessed the attempted murder,” James said. “The officer who shot him.”
“Murder and attempted murder are state crimes,” Robert said under his breath, as if he were checking off a list.
Then James stood up, ready to deliver the coup de grace from a superior position.
“Señora Chavez says that there was an outside investor in Rosa’s business who took twenty percent of the gross revenues. Who knows where that could lead? We assume someone other than Eduardo was selling drugs at Los Arboles and bringing in girls. Maybe there’s another trophy here to put on your resume, Robert.”
James couldn’t help smiling at Pilar.
“You’ve got my attention,” Robert said, looking at Pilar differently now, almost with curiosity about her as a person, or perhaps an asset that could be useful to him.
Mary saw Robert’s look and felt disgusted. So, Pilar is only a person if she can be used by men.
“Where is this journal? And who is the investor?” Robert asked.
“Not until we get an agreement that would provide my client with full immunity from prosecution for all potential charges stemming out of the Los Arboles operation. In return, she will aid your investigation and fully cooperate in prosecuting Rosa, Tito, Esther, Eduardo, and Guillermo.”
“We don’t know that the journal is useful. Besides, it wouldn’t be admissible in court,” Robert countered.
Pilar’s English was good enough to understand the gist of what the men were saying. Now she sank into her chair. Mary saw this and put her arm around her.
“The journal would be useful to the FBI for investigative purposes,” James said. “Plus, Señora Chavez’s testimony in court about admissions against interest that Rosa made to her while they were working in the same office would be devastating.”
“Go on. If all this checks out, I may consider asking for leniency on sentencing.”
“Not enough!” James insisted. He sat quiet for a minute, then turned to Mary. “What else do we have in our bag of treasures, counselor?”
Mary responded in an off-hand manner, “Oh, are you referring to the location of the file cabinet containing the records of Rosa’s businesses going back several years?”
Robert was stunned. Agents, officers, and deputies had searched every inch of the Los Arboles compound, filming their walk-through for the local news stations. They’d found soiled linens, condoms, dirty teddy bears, a rosary, pictures of angels, and other personal items but no records except the cashier’s notepad containing a listing of the men who had bought time with girls the night of the raid. That was helpful, but did not get them as far as they had hoped.
Robert got up from the table and motioned for the other members of the prosecution team to huddle with him in the hallway. They were gone for ten minutes, during which time Mary reminded James about what Josefina’s lawyer had told him yesterday. When Robert and his team returned, Mary spoke before Robert could say anything:
“There is another victim who is willing to testify against Rosa and Eduardo. Señora Chavez believes she would be reliable. We think a jury would be sympathetic to what she has to say about what Eduardo and Rosa did to her, Pilar, and another girl, now presumably dead.”
Robert stroked the five-o’clock shadow spread across his chin. “Who is that?”
“Josefina, one of the girls Eduardo trafficked from Mexico along with our client. ICE picked her up the night of the raid. Her attorney has assured us that she will testify that Eduardo trafficked them for Rosa and forced them to work in the bordello. She also witnessed Eduardo removing Señora Chavez by force in order to work as Rosa’s bookkeeper.”
At the mention of Josefina’s name and realizing the prospect of seeing her again, Pilar brightened for the first time.
Robert and his associates moved to the back of the room and huddled together, speaking in whispers. Finally, Robert returned to the table.
“We can probably work something out for your client with a reduced sentence. As far as the other girl is concerned, we’ll work with ICE and talk to her lawyer. Of course, I need to get this approved upstairs.”
James grimaced. “I said immunity, Robert. That’s a final offer or Señora Chavez will take her chances in court. I think a jury would be sympathetic to what this young woman was forced to endure.”
Robert scowled, turned quickly, and left the room. The other lawyer and agents followed, leaving Pilar and her lawyers alone. Mary smiled encouragingly at Pilar and held her hand.
“Do you think he will do what you ask?” Pilar said quietly. For the first time in a long time, she sounded hopeful.
“He’s positively salivating,” James said. “Let’s hope the information that you described is still where it was before the raid.”
• • •
It was dark when Diego returned from practice. When he unlocked his apartment door, he was startled to find his apartment in shambles. His clothes were strewn everywhere, the sofa and chairs were flipped over, the coffee table broken. Papers were scattered on the floor. His TV screen was smashed.
Diego was shocked. He had not noticed anyone following him in recent weeks, so he’d thought Escobar had decided to leave him alone. But this was an unmistakable message that he and Mary were still in danger. He was more worried about what this meant for her than himself and tried to call her immediately to warn her not to go home alone. He got her voice mail, so he left her a message not to go home, to sleep somewhere else.
He put his cell phone back in the pocket of his jersey, pulled out the pocketknife he always carried, and started to go room by room, surveying the damage. All his soccer shoes had been slashed with a knife.
When he got to his bedroom, he saw a handwritten note on top of his pillow.
IF SHE TESTIFIES, SHE’S DEAD.
Diego sat down. The French doors to the balcony were ajar. Nothing was missing. It wasn’t thieves, Diego thought. They only came to leave a message.
Mary picked up Diego’s message on her phone and checked into the Houstonian Hotel, where she was a member. Then she called James to let him know what had happened.
The next day, Michael, James, Diego, and Mary met in the FBI offices. Michael had also invited Robert to the meeting. Diego told them about the destruction of his apartment and the note threatening Pilar.
“Who is so concerned about Pilar’s testimony that they would threaten her life?” Michael murmured. Then he said, “Forensic accountants are going through the records from Rosa’s file cabinet now. They’ve verified Pilar’s claim that for the past five years, twenty percent of gross revenues were paid out in cash to a third party. Pilar made the payments to a man named Chacho, who was the courier for the person Rosa called ‘El Diablo.’”
“Who is he?” Diego asked.
“It seems only Rosa knows El Diablo’s identity,” Michael said. “We’ve tried to get her to tell us who he is, but she’s more afraid of El Diablo than she is of us. Claims she wants to keep her head. That makes me think we are dealing with a cartel.”
Diego grimaced. He had concluded Marisa’s father was a dangerous man. But he hadn’t wanted to accept the conclusion that he might actually be part of a cartel. That raised the danger to a whole new level.
James said, “Steve, Mary, and Diego suspect the men who threatened Mary previously worked for Arturo Escobar. Escobar could be the partner.”
“That makes sense,” Michael said. “We’ve suspected him of being involved in drug trafficking. Maybe he supplied Rosa with women or drugs or both. Pilar said another one of the pimps, Angel, also paid Chacho money. Maybe Angel’s girls were Escobar’s property and Angel was their pimp. Rosa could have been paying protection money to Escobar. Or Escobar could have loaned Rosa money to expand her operations, and she was paying him back. There are lots of ways Rosa and Escobar could be entangled.”
“Pilar made the payments to the courier, didn’t she?” Mary asked.
“Yes,” James said.
“She should be able to identify Chacho. If it’s one of Arturo’s regular men, that would be the link. If she could also identify Angel and testify he paid pimping money to Escobar’s man, those two things could give you strong probable cause to get a warrant to search Escobar’s home and businesses.”
“I would love to take down Escobar,” Michael said.
“How do we do that without subjecting Pilar to more danger?” Diego asked. He had been silent, listening up to that point.
“A while ago,” Michael said, “when we first suspected Escobar could be part of Sangre Negra, we installed a pole camera across the street from his house. It also captures his security guards. They like to play basketball and kick soccer balls around in his driveway. If Pilar reviews pictures of the guards, maybe she can identify one of the men as Chacho.”
Now Robert broke in. “Of course, if we come to an agreement with your client, she would have to testify in any trial of Escobar that the man she identified as Chacho was the man who picked up money every week from Rosa.”
“If?” James asked. “Accept it, Robert, you need her.”
Robert frowned but acknowledged, “We could tie in Escobar and Chacho, and possibly this Angel, as co-conspirators in Rosa’s sex-trafficking operation and have one hell of a trial!”
Diego had been listening quietly, but Robert’s statement made him furious. “That is out of the question! Pilar testifying against a madam and pimp in your country is one thing, but if she testified against anyone connected to the cartels, they would murder Alejandro, Concepción, and our parents.”
“And you,” Mary murmured. “We have to think of another solution.”
“It’s a terrible choice,” James said. “Someone, probably Escobar, has already threatened to kill her if she testifies against Rosa. He realizes that Pilar can identify Chacho and maybe Angel and bring Escobar into this. If she doesn’t testify as to what she knows, she could go to prison as a co-conspirator. And she might not be safe there. The only way to be sure Escobar can’t reach her is for the Feds to take him down and lock him up for good.”
“This can’t be,” Diego cried. “Is he right, Mary?”
