“Does your government know you are in the United States?”
“Well, no....”
At the station wagon, Calamaris was protesting, too. “Why are you stopping us? What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry,” an agent said, “just get moving. Drive off the Avenue onto 76th Street. Over there!”
“I don’t know nothing....”
“Get the car moving. You’re blocking traffic.”
Passersby gawked curiously as the four men were taken from the automobiles with a swarm of agents around them.
“What’s in the trunk of the cab?” Rosal was asked.
“Four suitcases,” he said. “One is mine but the other three don’t belong to me.”
“You brought them into the country, didn’t you?”