In the criminal justice system
the people are represented by two separate
yet equally important groups:
the police, who investigate crime
and the district attorneys, who prosecute the offenders.
These are their stories.
( horns honking, cars passing )
( distant, muffled voices )
( persistent pounding )
( woman screaming )
( people coughing and crying )
Hello?
Mira, hay un fuego!
Aqui se esta quemando.
Se esta quemando un club.
Avance, que hay un fuego grandisimo.
( sirens wailing )
Un fuego..!
Get across the street.
Move it!
We got your two and a half-inch line over here!
( fireman radioing location to dispatcher )
Okay! Go! Go! Go!
( women screaming )
RADIO TRANSMISSION: ...I've got two victims.
Battalion to dispatch...
( unclear radio transmissions )
Ready in here!
You going to put the fire out yourself?
Every kid wants to be a fireman.
Or a cop.
Not me. No?
When I saw my old man, which was, like,
every Sunday morning at mass,
I swore I'd do something different.
What happened?
I grew up, I gues...
God help us.
Oh, my God.
I've never seen this many.
You?
Not in civilian life.
God knows how many are still up in there.
What was this place?
A social club.
Social?
MAN: coming out.her one
Sorry, fellows, can't let you in just yet.
We got tickets.
Hey, this isn't a dick contest, buddy.
You're saying it's arson?
Somebody laid the propellant between 1:00, 1:15.
The whole thing took two, three minutes.
It's arson.
Then forego the waiting period.
No, we got to make sure there are no hot spots.
And no evidence!
Look, we got the burn pattern
and a piece of the device.
You go running up
fall through the ceiling-- what good does that do?
Call me impulsive.
Monahan. Arson.
CRAGEN: And the death count?
We got, what-- 51, mike?
Fifty-two.
The club was on the second floor,
the guy torched it from the bottom of the stairs.
It was like, whoosh, right up the chimmney.
Anybody up above would have been blinded.
This guy picked a moment when nobody was outside.
Or nobody remembers anything.
Oh, yeah? Why's that?
It's one of those social clubs
for Central Americans-- Honduras, El Salvador.
They don't have enough heartache
in their own country?
They're here illegally.
They see an authority figure
they shut their mouths fast.
CRAGEN: Well, this club...
LOGAN: El Cielo.
"Heaven."
Heaven.
Okay, assuming that this is arson
do we have any idea who the owner is?
These places change owners like you change your socks.
Hall of records opens in one hour.
It's Sunday, Mike.
Maybe you ought to just...
I don't care.
I can't sleep.
Let's get on it.
We'll check the hospital, check for survivors.
Maybe somebody will get over their problem
with authority figures.
Is this the complete list?
So far.
We've got the first 20.
The rest are at Mount Sinai and Saint John's.
Pinero, Rojas, Santiago, Segre...
Have you sorted out any of these people?
They're the lucky ones.
Yeah, I know. You talked to them.
Did they all work there?
Were any of them customers?
I think the manager...
Yeah. Acosta, Gilberto.
He's being prepped for surgery.
Better hurry.
CERRETA: Mr. Acosta.
The man you had to throw out of the club
the troublemaker--
what is his name?
( Strained whispering )
Guillermo something.
His girlfriend's the barmaid, Celia Montalbano.
So this was a lovers' quarrel?
( whispering )
He says the guy's a drunk.
Bouncer throws him out.
He threatens to come back and wipe everybody out.
Mr. Acosta, what is your bouncer's name?
NURSE: Guys... come on.
Now, the man can hardly breathe.
Pedro Cruz.
Thank you, sir.
Thank you.
Pedro cruz is...
not so lucky.
D.O.A., Saint John's.
What about that barmaid, Celia something?
Celia, Celia, Celia...
Montalbano.
Released Mount Sinai, 7:00 a.m.
Thanks.
By the way, you were great.
Listen, you know how gunshot vics act?
You mean, "patchme up before the pigs get here"?
Anybody with a bad burn acting like that...
A.S.A.P., Detective.
I owe you.
Celia Montalbano?
Si.
¿Usted hable ingles?
I've been here seven years.
Listen, we understand you have a boyfriend.
No.
I don't have a boyfriend.
WOMAN: No hables con esa gente.
CELIA: Esta bien, esta bien.
Esta bien, mama, le dije.
A man named Guillermo, we're told that you and he...
He's a pig.
Un borrachon.
I told him to stop pestering me.
We her that he's in love with you.
I can't help that.
LOGAN: Let me tell you something.
Word gets around that he torched that club
there's gonna be a lot of people looking for him.
Not just us. You understand me?
You're saying that Guillermo did that?
He's crazy, you know?
But he's not that bad.
Maybe you're right
but I'll need his address, okay?
I haven't been out.
No television, Guillermo?
No radio?
All right then, we'll break the news.
Last night somebody torched El Cielo
and at least 50 of your people died.
Doesn't that mean anything to you, man?
Give him back his medicine
maybe it will help his memory.
Listen.
You made a big stink last night around 11:00 p.m.
What did you do after that?
No se.
No se?
Or won't say?
All right, let's go.
Where were you all that time?
I don't know.
Come on, Ruiz-- think, think.
I don't know.
We got traces of gasoline--
regular unleaded.
Really.
What brand?
We can't get it that close
but I know how he did it.
It's the old gas-can- in-the-trouser trick
or in this case
the thing that holds windshield-wiper fluid.
I don't... i don't really follow.
Well, it's simple.
You run a tube down your leg.
Nobody sees a thing until...
and we're off to the races.
This is a common MO?
Among your card-carrying
professional arsonists, yeah.
I mean, it's simple, but it's tricky.
You got a container of gasoline
strapped down there between your legs.
I mean, one false move--
it's bye-bye future generation.
Well, our Mr. Ruiz here
does not strike me as that smart or that lucky.
He doesn't look like he could
burn his way out of a paper bag.
Fellows, Patrick thinks
we're barking up the wrong tree
with the jealous boyfriend idea.
First the crime scene was too hot to visit.
Now you've got him
all sussed out?
MONAHAN: We found this
at the foot of the stairs.
New variation
on an old arsonist's trick.
Look, the guy's a firebug
not a brain surgeon.
Phil?
Ruiz claims to be missing a crucial period of time.
Maybe he was in a blackout.
I still can't imagine this guy
wanting to kill all those people.
Well, that might be the guy, fellows.
I'm just saying
if I were you
I would start with arson for profit
and follow the money.
You got a fix on the owner?
Yeah, Jose Rivera.
Check him out
after you take Mr. Ruiz home.
Maybe something will come back to him.
Tomorrow the D.A.'s office is holding a press conference.
I would really like
to bring something to it.
( angry crowd shouting )
Back off!
Come on, mike, get in.
Last night, sir
did you let Mr. Ruiz into the apartment?
He said he lost his keys again.
Next time sleep it off on the street, estupido.
When was that?
About 11:30-- the news was ending.
Do you know if Mr. Ruiz went out again?
No way. That borrachon was dead to the world.
LOGAN: Ah, well.
( woman weeping )
Mr. Rivera.
Yes?
You don't seem surprised.
CERRETA: Doesn't seem like much of a building
to cause all that misery.
I don't own this building.
No?
Just the chairs and tables.
A new P.A. system just last week.
I'm sure they're all covered.
I don't have insurance.
Can't get insurance without papers.
You don't own it, who does?
Cubano named marcos.
I begged him to put in sprinklers
but he was too cheap.
You're such a safety nut
how come you padlock the only exit door?
They were always like that.
I don't suppose
it was to keep people from sneaking in?
I lost my only daughter in there, mister
and three of my cousins.
Now what... have I got?
REPORTERS: Captain Cragen, can we get a statement?
Excuse me, sir...
Have you got a suspect?
Showtime, Paul.
Do me a favor?
Take the circus outside.
They're here for your statement.
No comment, quote unquote.
It will save trees.
The whole town's in an uproar.
Everybody's feeling righteous indignation
over the tragic loss of a lot of people
they wouldn't ordinarily have the time of day for.
A bit cynical.
Is that right, Paul?
You're here with the D.A.'S press liaison.
We don't have a suspect or an eyewitness.
The only physical evidence we do have
we are not releasing.
The melted windshield cleaner gizmo?
And you heard that where?
Sources.
You got half the city commissioners
scrambling to reassess the licensing practices of...
And scrambling to cover their own asses
which is not my problem.
As soon as I have something, Katrina, okay?
What about you?
Remember the rap?
"The city deplores
the reckless disregard for human life."
You give good sound bite, Paul.
Bunch of shell corporations.
Bottom line-- the real owner is named Marcos.
The Voice named him slumlord of the year in '87.
Hang on, please.
And?
He's even done time
for safety code violations.
He's that bad.
Excellent.
What time does your boss usually get in?
It's important we speak to him.
Has he called in for messages?
Have you called Mr. Marcos at home?
Okay, give us his address.
We'll go there ourselves.
( Logan snaps fingers )
Thank you.
Mr. Marcos not here.
We know, but where is he?
He no come home last night.
Is Mrs. Marcos in?
She down in the morgue.
In the what?
The morgue.
She down in the morgue.
Oh, brother.
Thank you.
Yeah, I understand.
And please tell his honor
that we are submitting the overtime paperwork
to prove it.
Oh, no, thank you.
Well?
The coroner's office confirmed Marcos's death
at 10:21 this morning.
Smoke inhalation.
That shoots arson for profit.
What is less than square one?
Minus zippo? Negative bupkis?
Oh, please, God.
That head nurse says some guy came in
begging them to take care of his leg.
Some kind of a wound plus a second-degree burn.
He took off, but they got photos.
X-rays?
Yep.
Don't forget a subpoena.
You got it.
LOGAN: What the hell is that?
Something opaque.
Plastic, maybe.
Dr. Mendel wanted to remove it
but the patient apparently had a big day in front of him.
I bet.
We gave him cortisone and a cold compress for his leg
and then he took off... limped off, actually.
With our evidence in his right thigh.
Please, tell me you have paperwork on him.
He paid cash
but he showed us his green card.
Made a big deal of it, actually.
I made a photocopy of it.
"Daniel Esperanza, 28 East 137th Street."
Thank you.
You're the best.
There is nothing wrong with my legs.
Okay? Believe me.
We do, we do.
We just want to be sure.
You seem anxious.
I'm modest.
Is that a crime?
Drop your pants and we're out of here, okay?
Let's go. Drop them.
Turn around, please.
Nope.
Okay?
Sorry for the aggravation.
Why didn't you come here two weeks ago
when my place was robbed?
Couple of weeks ago
a junkie broke into my place.
Did you lose much?
$50 plus la mica-- my green card.
Some junkie's got your green card?
Yeah. It cost me five grand
plus three years of running around.
I wanted to break his face
but he started crying that he didn't have anything
plus he already shoot it in his arms.
A junkie-- what are you going to do?
What's his name?
Chuy Bodillo.
Down the hall.
Thank you.
What's the matter-- the elevator out of service?
CERRETA: You have the right to remain silent.
If you choose to waive that right
anything you do say
may be used against you in a court of law.
Do you understand me?
Stupid, Chuy.
Really dumb.
You steal a guy's green card
and then show it to us?
LOGAN: Maybe he thinks we're stupid.
I thought it might work.
We all look the same to you people.
Using a stolen I.D.--
that's a federal rap, ain't it?
CERRETA: What the hell.
They'll take him off our hands anyway.
Why waste any more time with this mope?
What's the big deal?
I made some copies, okay?
Who did you sell them to?
To the janitor in the building
plus some guy on the street.
I don't know.
That's all?
Who else, Chuy?
Come on.
A buddy of mine.
He was in some kind of jam.
What kind of jam?
He needed medical treatment.
No green card, no hospital.
He said there was a grease fire
at the restaurant where he works.
Which one?
I don't know the name.
135th and Lennox, man.
Your buddy, the cook-- who is he?
Cesar Pescador.
Good.
Have you a warrant?
No, and I don't have a reservation.
We're not interested in what you're hiding.
( Speaking chinese )
LOGAN: This guy limps pretty fast.
Get over there. Get over there.
( Pots and pans clattering to the floor )
keep your hands in the air.
CERRETA: Are you Pescador?
You are under arrest.
You have the right to remain silent.
If you choose to waive that right
anything you do say...
I was frying won tons and the grease blew up.
You weren't working the night of the club fire.
I was at O.T.B till it closed.
I lost big time.
What a surprise.
53 people died in that fire.
A lot of families are hurting bad, Cesar.
Sometimes it helps to talk.
Sometimes it hurts.
Are you hurting, Cesar?
My leg is killing me.
It's burning me up.
Oh, yeah?
What, too much sun?
You'd think, listening to this guy
this is some kind of a shoplifting beef.
I don't get this.
Ours is not to reason why.
This freaking yo-yo's got guilt written all over.
You still have to determine a motive.
This is the way it went down--
this jerk lit the trail of gasoline
it went backwards up his leg-- boom!
That piece of plastic in his leg
matches what we found at the club
case closed.
Maybe.
Fourth and fifth amendments enter in here.
Did I miss sSomething?
The guy is here illegally.
The constitution applies to everyone
including illegals.
This says you get to cut my leg open.
No, that's a consent form.
It says you agree to let us remove
whatever is causing the infection in your leg.
If you didn't do anything wrong, don't worry.
No damn butcher going to cut my leg open.
That's fine.
You're going to be limping on one leg anyway.
You get it, genius?
Infection spreads.
The only way to save you is to chop off that leg.
Don't I get a lawyer?
Yeah, you get a lawyer.
Cutting my client's leg open to get a piece of plastic
is an atrocity.
If Judge Waxman grants my motion
pescador gets the best medical care.
Intrusive procedures will be minimal.
The operation could be life-threatening.
He'll get better odds than the people at the club.
If he didn't do it?
Surgery against his will--
it's the ultimate invasion of privacy.
( printer feeds forward )
There are 53 families screaming for your client's head.
His right to privacy?
That's for a court to consider.
ROBINETTE: to emphasizeould like
the narrow scope of the pending motion.
The evidence currently imbedded in the defendant's leg
is essential to the prosecution of this case.
WAXMAN: Thank you, counselors.
Be seated.
This is a difficult decision.
It brings the rights of the individual
into head-on conflict
with legitimate governmental requirements.
However, I'm inclined
to grant the people's limited request.
What?!
This is worse than Castro, man!
You can't cut my leg without my say-so!
I'm not going to no hospital!
( angry shouting )
I'm not going to no hospital!
WAXMAN: All of you, sit down!
Quiet in this courtroom.
Quiet!
Quiet or I'll clear the court.
Excuse me.
Excuse me, Mr. Pescador.
We can and will.
Now sit down.
The defendant will submit forthwith
to the surgical procedure
which shall be conducted in a manner
consistent with this court's written ruling.
Arson for profit I can understand
but what was driving this guy?
Rage, maybe.
It's beyond me.
ROBINETTE: You have a fix yet?
Polymer analysis, margin of error
plus or minus a few measly molecules
but not so you'd notice.
Meaning you've got a fix.
This piece?
Same plastic found on the floor of the club.
Absolutely.
Windshield wiper reservoir?
Good old American plastic--
still the best in the world.
It's a miracle this guy didn't die of toxic shock.
Piece they took out still has gasoline on it.
ROBINETTE: Attempted homicide?
Those 53 people are dead.
He didn't mean to kill anyone.
You're not thinking about negligent homicide.
If he's only a messenger boy
he better start naming names
or he's going down alone.
He says if he goes to prison
the man will have him killed.
You don't go to jail
there's about 500 grieving relatives
who'd be happy to kill you.
I'll take my chances with them.
This is a ridiculous exercise.
No matter what, he's going down.
Upstate, downstate-- it doesn't matter.
Somebody will get him.
It's not a perfect world, Cesar
but you already know that.
( moaning )
It ain't... it ain't fair.
That assassin didn't even pay me.
I get nothing for the deal.
What assassin?
What's the deal?
LAWYER: Tell him, Cesar.
Tell him!
A lot of people give the cubano
a lot of money for their micas--
five, six thousand cash.
Then they find out they're bogus.
Bunch of paper, man.
So they start making noise.
What kind of noise?
A lot of lawyers telling them
"Hey, you got rights, too."
So the people they want to turn the cubano in.
So he come to me and he says
"Cesar, Cesar, I'll tell you what to do.
"You send those people a message.
You put the fear of God into them."
By burning down the club?
It was supposed to be a warning.
Like what they do in El Salvador.
The cubano he says, "So some people burn
"then so what?
There's a whole lot more where they come from."
The people in El Cielo--
a lot of Salvadorans.
They got the message.
Ow!
The Cuban--
what's his name?
Guerra.
Domingo Guerra.
He owns a club himself.
The Del Mundo.
Del Mundo.
MAN: Guerra's my partner.
So he owns 50% of the club.
So he sits around drinking cuba libres.
I do all the work.
You got a partner?
You're lucky.
Where's Mr. Guerra now?
No idea.
What is this?
You can strong-arm in Havana
but not here.
I call my lawyer, he calls it harassment.
We sue your butt from here to Miami.
God bless America.
This is a search warrant.
It specifically allows us to look for stolen
or forged immigration papers.
I don't know about Havana, but what happens in New York
is that the officers
in pulling the place apart
come across other things.
I can't believe Mr. Guerra had anything to do
with that terrible fire.
I've heard the rumors, yes
but a man of his stature?
Where is he?
Verdad. I don't know.
But he maintains a small office in the back.
Sometimes he drops by, occasionally.
For a cuba libre?
Mr. Guerra has many irons in many fires, senor.
Green card apps.
We also confiscated two file cabinets
filled with completed forms.
If any of the victims' names turn up...
still cross-referencing.
They use so many aliases
it's hard to know who's who.
At 3,000 a shot
this guy's making a lot of money.
It's funny we never heard of him before.
I get the feeling he's greased a lot of palms
in the Hispanic community.
He sounds like the godfather.
I wonder what Guerra's immigration status is.
I'm not going to give you
the old "our records are confidential" speech.
I didn't expect you to, Robert.
I'm flattered
but you overestimate my clout, Ben.
Oh, I doubt that.
First Latino on fraternity row?
They'd never seen a Cuban in New Hampshire.
I was a novelty.
Off the record.
Off the record
I know who he is.
Everybody in the community does.
He's got a lot of friends.
I hear he has a lot of irons in the fire
not all of them on the books.
Guerra is to the Latin community
what Adam Clayton Powell was to the people of Harlem--
he's a hero.
Heroes don't incinerate a roomful of innocent people.
That's right.
That's why Guerra couldn't be involved
in any of this.
It was an awful tragedy.
Maybe your friend's hiding something.
The only possible thing that he's hiding
is his agenda.
He's a political animal.
He's ambitious, but not dirty.
And since when is ambition and greed
mutually exclusive?
You don't know him. I do.
Do you?
When I see 53 corpses on the front page
I don't see friendship.
I see bogus green cards
I see intransigence in the I.N.S. office
and maybe I see a connection.
That's a bit of a leap.
Fine.
Prove me wrong.
"Un reunion de los amigos"-- a meeting of friends.
Where did you get these?
La Verdad, the Cuban American newspaper.
The guy in the shades next to Diaz is Guerra.
The others are prominent businessmen, politicians.
This one looks like Robert's yearbook photo.
"I know who he is."
They look a little more familiar than that.
He's got his arm around you.
What should I believe?
We're demonstrative people.
Come on, ben.
You've been to political parties yourself.
Everybody wants to have their picture taken with you.
Ordinarily, politicians are discreet enough
to deal with criminals behind closed doors!
I see, except Latinos.
We're all corrupt or all on the take.
Tinhorn dictators.
Don't start that oppressed minority crap with me, Bobby.
We go back too far.
I'm insisting that your hands are clean.
My boss isn't so sure.
Okay.
Ben, Guerra helped me get my first job out of law school.
He helped a lot of us.
You needed a loan, he was there.
You needed tickets for fund-raising
he'd have them printed, then he'd throw in the labor.
What about printing green cards?
On or off the record?
I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation.
You administer a green card program.
Guerra has an office filled with forged forms
which he's selling.
Wake up, Roberto!
Okay.
What can I tell you?
For starters
where was this taken?
This was the Latino-American club
116th Street and Second Avenue.
Domingo Guerra?
I'm Assistant District Attorney Ben Stone.
This is A.D.A. Robinette.
Would you like a drink, licensario?
I'd like a word with you, sir.
I never set foot in El Cielo.
A disco for Salvadorans?
Do you consider yourself above them, Mr. Guerra?
Am I being charged with prejudice?
You can be charged with conspiracy
to defraud the United States government
so change your tune.
United States?
STONE: Yes, sir.
Is the state of New York pinch-hitting
for the federal government, Mr. Stone?
No, but what we can do is charge you
with possession with intent to sell
forged immigration documents.
That comes under state and federal jurisdiction.
Then there will be Cesar Pescador's testimony
that you offered him money to burn down the club.
( whispering )
My client denies this charge
but he's wondering if you'd be interested
in talking to an I.N.S. agent.
Which agent?
A man he can implicate in the deaths of these people
in exchange for a plea bargain.
No, that's completely premature.
You give us the name of the agent and we'll see.
( whispering )
The man's name is Collins.
James Collins.
Manhattan office.
Of course I know Guerra.
I've been investigating him for years.
Why wasn't I apprised of this?
I don't bother you with every minor case.
Excuse me-- minor?
The guy hires illegals
to work day jobs.
They get $20 for ten hours work.
Guerra gets 30 per head.
For this we get a visit?
The district attorney has information
that you've been skying green cards--
you and Guerra together.
That's slick.
Well, the best defense is a good offense.
Where did they get this crap?
We are continuing the investigation
and if you care to cooperate...
Get lost.
You know the man.
What do you think?
We'll run an internal audit
see how many apps he's written
in the past few years.
That's not good enough.
What do you want me to do?
First, I give up my patron.
Now it's coming down on my own office.
GUERRA: hard to findcigars--
in this country.
Not for long, I imagine.
Anyway, I don't smoke
and neither do you in my office.
What do you bring to the table?
Proof that my client was an unwilling participant
in this green card business.
I'm listening.
You know the game.
You want the quid, we want the quo.
I'm listening
but I'm not making a blind commitment
to a mass murderer.
I'm a businessman
in business with an agent of the United States government.
You are a man who betrayed his people at $3,000 a head.
I don't need to listen to this cheap suit.
Mr. Guerra will testify against Collins
of the I.N.S.
To explain to the jury
how Collins conceived the plan to hire Cesar Pescador
and to threaten the patrons of the El Cielo into silence.
Maybe you'd explain it to us.
Collins went to a big-league firebug for help.
Name?
He's called...
Professor.
My client will explain this and more
in exchange for one count of conspiracy to defraud.
A class E felony?
Give it up.
The bill of indictments against you
will probably run to hundreds of pages.
Now, somewhere in there
I might find a little space for compromise
possibly a sentencing recommendation.
¿Que en el diablo habla este hombre?
He's being reasonable, Domingo.
You better cooperate.
Stu Simmons, Allan Brown, Max Dworkin
and Romaine Ireland.
Addresses?
Simmons still has two to go in Attica.
Brown's dead.
Dworkin skipped bail-- Tahiti if he's smart.
What about Ireland?
Romie the Bug.
Nine years in the can
for torching a dry cleaners in Queens.
Paroled last July.
All right, thanks.
Mm-hmm.
I play bridge, tend my roses.
I read a lot.
Yeah, right.
You're a gentleman and a scholar.
I never killed anybody.
It's just a business, and I'm retired.
Not entirely.
Somebody needs advice
you give it to him, sell it to him.
What am I saying?
Next thing you know
there's 53 corpses on the sidewalk.
Your M.O., Professor.
Your neck.
Okay.
Guy comes up to me--
I don't know, maybe he's writing a book.
I give him the benefit of my experience.
Which was?
Which was
if I was to go into a crowded place
I'd use the hidden container trick.
What kind of container?
Anything that will fit down your trouser leg.
In this case, a windshield washer reservoir.
Is this the guy?
For complete immunity I could be 100% certain.
You rang, chief?
Come in.
Sit down.
Did you remove the windshield liquid reservoir
from your partner's car, Mr. Collins?
The what?
What is this?
Read this.
It's a sworn notarized statement from the mechanic
who services your official vehicles.
He witnessed you under the hood.
He's a liar.
I don't care if it is notarized.
Did you ask Romaine Ireland for advice
in starting the fire in club El Cielo?
Never heard of him.
He's heard of you.
I don't care.
I never...
This man.
Remember him now?
Am I under arrest?
Not yet.
Can I at least call a lawyer?
Guerra roped in the victims
but it was Collins who shut them up.
We'll put them on trial together.
Solicitation...
criminal solicitation in the first degree.
Arson in the first degree.
Murder in the second degree, 53 counts.
This will make a hell of an indictment.
Is Collins worse than Guerra?
A man in a position to help who would do that.
What happened to "give me your huddled masses"?
What the hell's happened to this city?
WOMAN: Anaya, Jose, 23.
Rivera, Jesus, 31.
Avilo, Maria, 18.
Ponce, Roberto, 33.
Sangre, Margarita, 27.
Chavez, Angela, 27.
Soto, Manuel, 42.
Soto, Paula, 36.
Franco, Clara, 18.
Ascencio, Salvador, 22.
Carillo, Gregorio, 19.
Rodas, Isabel, 29.
Dominguez, Tomas, 20.
Godinez, Maria, 19.
Blanca, Maria, 31.
Otero, Roberto, 27.
Prieto, Felicia, 18.
Morales, Yolanda, 29.
Sevia, Maria, 21.
Vasquez, Blanca, 20.
Ortiz, Iris, 32...
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