Ted’s landlord, Mr. Ortiz, was a storefront abogado. Ted could ask him to look into it, but he had strong doubts that anything would come of it. “I don’t know the right kind of lawyers,” he said.

“Then she won’t sign.”

“We can make this happen,” Lester said. Ted raised both eyebrows. Lester ignored him. “Not a problem. You prep Miss Miller and let us take care of the rest.”

Anora, focused on Lester, had missed Ted’s reaction, but now she turned to him. “Dat woman, the one she talked aboot—she is not a good person.”

“Do you know her name?” Ted asked. “Anything else you can tell me about her?”

“She say she’s a lawyer. I know that.”

“I could really use a name. Please think.”

Shaking her head, she replied, “She very bossy.”

A dead end. Anora wasn’t going to be much help with anything else. Ted wanted to get Lester out of there before he made any more unlikely promises.

“Thanks for your help,” Ted said. “I’ll have Lester come by tomorrow.”

They headed for the front door.

“Bye now,” the bug-eyed girl at the desk called out. “Oh, wait. Mr. Willard. You need to sign out.” She waved a pen.

“It’s Fillmore,” Lester said, signing out for both of them. “Eduard Fillmore of San Pedro.”

Mohammed was waiting, engine running, at the curb. Ted stopped Lester before they got to the car. “I hope you have a plan for helping Anora get a green card. I don’t have much, but I do have my word, and I’m not too comfortable with people making impossible pledges in my name. Are we clear?”

Lester looked him in the eye. “We’ll figure it out. But without that signature, you and I have nothing at all.”

“If she gets us that signature, we are going to help that woman get her green card. Understood?”

“I never said anything different,” Lester answered.

“I want you on it as soon as you get that signature.”

Lester nodded. “Can do.”

Ted opened the car door and gestured for Lester to get in first.

“And one other thing,” Lester said.

“What’s that?” Ted asked.

“She’s wrong. Miller, I mean. You go to Andre’s for pastry. Lulu’s for cake.”

-18-

-18-

Mohammed persuaded them that the fastest route to Jamaica was the Van Wyck. It wasn’t.

“It never is,” Lester said.

“Where can I drop you? I’ve got to get up to Flushing for a meeting,” Ted said.

“Hillside. You can cut over and take Queens Boulevard. You’re on to something with this Miller and her lawyer. I saw it in your face back there.”

“It’s the lawyer. She’s the connection.”

“You know her?” Lester asked. “This Jackie Somebody? Where did that come from?”