Mr Nice

  ‘I believe that is correct, yes, but I’m not a sentencing expert,’ said O’Neill.

  ‘Is that right, Gustavo?’ I asked.

  Gustavo said nothing. He carried on writing, taking down every word that was said.

  ‘Why have you charged me with the 1973 speaker scam?’ I asked. ‘I’ve already done a sentence for that.’

  ‘We, the United States Government, don’t recognise foreign convictions,’ answered Lovato.

  ‘Why is that load of marijuana in Vancouver anything to do with America? Have you stopped recognising foreign countries as well?’

  ‘Well, Canada is close to us. But besides that we have evidence to show that the same product was sold in California. It is the United States Government’s belief that the consignment was destined for distribution within its borders. This gives us jurisdiction. We have long arms, Howard.’

  ‘Mr O’Neill, does the Sentencing Reform Act apply to these charges?’

  ‘Call me Bob, Howard. I feel more comfortable that way. It’s a good question. The simple answer is “I don’t know.” I wouldn’t want to mislead you. But if the Act did apply, your mandatory sentence would, of course, be life. If it did not apply, then you would be subject to a maximum of 145 years.’

  ‘It’s a long time either way, Howard,’ said Lovato. ‘Come to the United States now and start making it shorter, maybe a lot shorter.’

  ‘I don’t think Spain is going to extradite me. With due respect, I don’t think you’re too confident of it either; otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to persuade me to come voluntarily.’

  ‘It’s just for your own good, Howard. I hate to see you doing dead time.’

  O’Neill broke in. ‘Howard, I’ll be frank with you. One of the reasons we want you there quickly is that the trial of your co-defendants is scheduled to begin early next year. For reasons of economy, we’d like to try you at the same time. If I was you, I’d want a multi-defendant trial, too, rather than be the only one facing the jury. But I’m not going to even attempt to coax you. It’s your decision. But I’m interested why you don’t think Spain will extradite you. Why won’t they?’

  ‘Because I’m charged with RICO, money-laundering, and conspiracy. None of these are crimes in Spain.’

  ‘That’s irrelevant. They are in the United States,’ said Lovato.

  ‘But for Spain to extradite,’ I argued, ‘it has to recognise them as crimes.’

  ‘Howard, I’m not commenting on the advice you may have received from your excellent attorney Señor Gustavo Lopez Munoz y Larraz here, but you have to do the time, not him. Forget the legal bullshit that happens in these courts. You will be extradited. Spain already upset us by not extraditing Ochoa. Spain realised it made a mistake. Spain will not upset the United States Government in that way again. Rely on it.’

  ‘Still the big guy on the block, Craig?’

  ‘You better believe it, Howard.’

  ‘Unless there are further questions, I think we’d better leave, Agent Lovato,’ said O’Neill.

  El Fiscal brought the guards back, and they took me to a lawyers’ visiting cubicle to see Gustavo.

  ‘Howard, I have never seen anything like that in my life. The judge’s behaviour was atrocious. I will ensure that an official complaint is made. I will tell the newspapers today. But forget that, for I have good news for you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I am sure we can now get Judy bail.’

  ‘Why? What has changed?’

  ‘A number of your co-defendants, including all the females, have been granted bail by the American authorities. Even Judy’s brother, Patrick Lane, has been offered release on bail for a $1,000,000 bond. Another co-defendant, James Newton, has been released on bail by the British authorities. I have received many compelling letters from doctors, psychiatrists, and residents of Mallorca expressing concern about the plight of your children. It will soon be Christmas; even judges can be human. I have excellent reason to believe Judy will be granted bail. The application may prove to be a little expensive, but it will succeed.’

  ‘That’s great news, Gustavo. Thank you.’

  ‘There is more good news. A short time ago France requested the extradition of a man found in Spain. The offence was international credit-card fraud. Spain denied extradition on the basis that he could be tried equally well in Spain.’

  ‘Presumably, though, Gustavo, he had been charged by the Spanish authorities for the same offence. Spain hasn’t charged me with anything. We can’t make them charge me, can we?’

  ‘That is where you are wrong, Howard. We can ensure you are charged through acción popular, a method by which Spaniards can petition a court to force the police to prosecute. There has been a great deal of coverage of your case in the Spanish newspapers. Everyone knows Marco Polo, believe me. There were plenty of references to caves of hashish in the Costa Brava. Your headquarters were in Palma de Mallorca. You must have broken Spanish law, so why send you to Florida rather than try you here? My professional colleagues resent what they see as an example of judicial colonisation: America administering our system of justice. Spain’s legal system is perfectly adequate, yet it is treated like that of an incompetent banana republic.’

  ‘If I was charged here, what sentence would I get?’

  ‘You would not even get convicted, but the maximum sentence in Spain for any cannabis offence is six years. You would be out after serving two.’

  ‘What about Judy?’

  ‘She would be immediately released.’

  ‘What’s the next step, Gustavo?’

  ‘We get forty signatures from people outraged at the extent of drug trafficking taking place within Spain and furious with the Spanish Government for abrogating its responsibility to deal with the problem. They demand that you, Judy, and Kenion be charged for the crimes you have committed in Spain. On the strength of this, a lawyer will submit an acción popular to the court. It mustn’t be me, obviously, but it will be a very good friend. The arguments will be mine. He will simply sign and submit it.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s do it. It sounds wonderful. Anything else?’

  ‘Yes. I have tried and tried to understand RICO. I cannot. If I cannot, the Audiencia Nacional will not be able to. But they will pretend to understand and say it’s perfectly proper to extradite you for such a charge. I suggest we bring to next year’s extradition hearing an American lawyer, one sympathetic to your position, who is a qualified expert on RICO. The Audiencia Nacional will then be forced to accept that RICO has no equivalent whatsoever in Spanish law and is an unextraditable charge. I could probably find such a lawyer, but maybe you know of one.’

  ‘That’s a good idea, Gustavo. I’m sure I could find one.’

  ‘Also, Howard, I think we should ask the Audiencia Nacional to allow us to present Bernard Simons at the extradition hearing so that he can explain to the court that you have already done a sentence for the 1973 speaker scam.’

  ‘Okay. What about this rule about not extraditing from Spain someone who might end up with a sentence of more than thirty years? I’m apparently facing the possibility of life, or with a bit of luck, 145 years.’

  ‘The United States Government will give an assurance to the Audiencia Nacional that you will not receive a sentence greater than thirty years, but it doesn’t mean very much. If the Americans get you across the Atlantic, it’s a different ball game, as they themselves say. But, Howard, you will not be extradited. The acción popular will work, if nothing else.’

  ‘I hope so, Gustavo. Is there any other news?’

  ‘Yes. I received a call from Marcus yesterday. He had spoken to Katz, who is now in Miami. Katz has got copies of all the evidence the prosecution intend presenting against your co-defendants. He is bringing it here soon.’

  ‘I’ll go through it with a toothcomb, Gustavo. Anything else?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  Gustavo’s lawyer friend submitted the acción popular to the court. To add more force to
the petitioners’ arguments, I capitalised on my newsworthiness and wrote long letters to Spanish newspapers complaining how the Americans had thwarted my plans to turn Mallorca into the Hong Kong of the Mediterranean. Fabulously wealthy Far Eastern businessmen and Saudi Arabian princes had approved plans to invest colossal sums of money building final-stage assembly plants, leisure parks, and luxury hotels. The letters were published on a couple of front pages. As expected, they were interpreted as proof of my wicked desires to flood the country with drug money. I gave interviews to the Spanish magazine Panorama, stating that Spain was a paradise for drug users and traffickers and that I had personally smuggled into Spain large quantities of dope. Gustavo got a few more ‘enraged citizens’ to submit these newspaper and magazine articles to the court as further evidence of the dire need for me to be busted by the Spanish.

  The next time we met, Juan and I were running low on hashish. He suggested that I arrange to get some sewn into a pair of trousers and mailed to him. I asked Marcus to do it. A couple of nights later, some funcionarios marched into Juan’s cell. A scuffle broke out. There was the hiss of teargas spray, and whines of pain echoed down the metal corridors. Other prisoners banged their doors with their shoes. The funcionarios marched back, still scuffling.

  ‘Juan, Juan. Qué pasa?’ I yelled.

  ‘No lo se, Marco Polo. Son unos hijos de puta. Todos. Pero no se preocupe. Así es la vida. Adiós, mi amigo, y suerte.’

  Poor Juan. They’d obviously busted the dope, and he’d given the funcionarios some lip when he’d been confronted. I never saw him again.

  My first wife, Ilze, had a friend, Gerard E. Lynch, who was Professor of Law of Columbia University, New York. He was an expert on RICO and had published extensively on the subject. He sent me articles. I understood RICO. For an appropriate consideration, he would be delighted to come to Madrid and explain RICO to the Audiencia Nacional.

  Katz brought in the documents of evidence from Miami. There were over ten thousand papers, two thousand of which were transcripts of telephone taps on my phone. It didn’t make for comforting reading, but there didn’t seem anything there that clinched it for the prosecution. The evidence made it obvious that most of those charged had been up to some sort of skulduggery, but exactly what was open to interpretation. No major player was grassing, and I felt sure that none would. Numerous defences were leaping to mind. This could even be fun. Let’s beat them again.

  At the beginning of December, I was called in front of the junta. Although my walks with Juan had made my Spanish quite proficient, a Nigerian junkie prisoner had been summoned to act as my interpreter. Each member of the junta rose and shook my hand.

  ‘Ah. Señor Marks. El Marco Polo de las drogas. El famoso. Cómo está?’

  ‘I am well,’ I replied, ‘but why have I been put on Artículo 10, and why am I still on it?’

  ‘Because, Señor Marks, the DEA say you are the leader of an armed gang.’

  ‘I am not,’ I protested, ‘and never have been. I hate violence.’

  ‘We have made our own investigation and drawn our own conclusions,’ said the head of the junta. ‘We agree with you. In one week you will be released from Artículo 10 and sent to a normal cell block. Good luck, Señor Marks.’

  I was thrilled. I wrote excitedly to my children and my parents. No more visits through glass. The tide was beginning to turn.

  Well, it was trying to, but the elation was short-lived. Just before Christmas, Gustavo came to see me. In an unprecedented and deeply suspect move, the judges appointed to hear our extradition had all been replaced. Gustavo’s friend was no longer on the panel of three. The head judge would now be Orbe y Fernandez Losada, a strongly pro-American look-alike to General Francisco Franco, whose daughter had lost her life through a drug overdose. We couldn’t have been landed with anyone worse. Gustavo explained that Judy should still get bail, but he had lost much of his confidence. He suspected that the Americans were somehow behind the appointment of Judge Orbe y Fernandez Losada.

  Judy’s bail was denied. She and the children would not be able to share Christmas together. Deep sadness threatened again, but instead I was besieged by furious anger, the like of which I’d never experienced. I could understand the DEA wanting to give me a hard time: I had decided to pit my wits against them, and I was fair game. But why do this to my children and to my wife, whose only crime was to be mine? Why is the DEA so sadistic and inhuman? How can they happily and deliberately cause innocents to suffer? In the name of what? I must always remember that the DEA are evil. They began as President Nixon’s Mafia, in many cases not even agreeing with the crazy drug laws they so zealously enforced. But these laws gave them, and continue to give them, the excuse to be cruel and powerful bullies. Lock up the women and make them cry. Make the little children scream.

  The DEA can’t be forgiven for this. They know what they’re doing. I hate them. I’ll fight them until I fucking die.

  My children came to visit me. I could touch them, hug them, and kiss them. They seemed to be holding up so well and displaying such resilience. They gave me strength. Masha and her boyfriend, Nigel, were with them. There was something strange in Nigel’s eyes. Something wasn’t right. Maybe he was just unhealthily stoned or tired.

  I was out of Artículo 10 and housed in a clean cell in a normal cell block. There was a view of fields and mountains and fences and gun towers. Daylight poured through, and there was a light to use at night. I knew no one, but many of the prisoners and funcionarios had heard of me, and I quickly made friends. There was plenty of hashish. Personal possessions of all kinds were permitted. Each day I’d spend a few hours walking in the patio, improving my breathing and my Spanish. Most of the time I spent doing yoga and examining the ten thousand pages of evidence from Miami. Marcus and Gustavo came to see me frequently. These visits were always through glass. Once Gustavo came accompanied by someone I’d not met.

  ‘Howard, this is the lawyer of Roger Reaves. This visit of ours gives you and Roger the opportunity to talk to each other. He will be here any second.’

  Roger ran up to me.

  ‘Boy, I wanna snitch on you. Do you mind if I snitch on you? I’m sorry to come out with it just like that. Lord! I’m sorry, Howard. It’s so good to see you. Man! You look healthy. Thank the Lord. How’s Judy and the kids? I think Marie’s going out with another fella.’

  ‘Everything’s okay, I guess, Roger, but Judy didn’t get bail.’

  ‘She didn’t! Man, those sons of bitches ought to meet their Lord.’

  ‘What’s this about snitching?’

  ‘Here, let me explain to you. I’m going to tell you right now. I’m going to be extradited to Germany before the US can put a finger on me. Thank the Lord. It’s true. Ask my lawyer. That’s good for me. I’ve been talking to some Germans here in my cell block and once I’m convicted there, provided I plead guilty and get a light sentence, I get put into a prison that’s real easy, I mean real easy, to escape from.’

  ‘So why do you need to snitch on me?’

  ‘To get a light sentence. I’ll snitch on McCann too. I’d like to do that. You could do the same deal, Howard. Get extradited to Germany, and snitch on me and McCann. We could escape together and go to South Africa to grow pot. Then we could sail it to Canada. Forget the US. I have good buddies in Canada. We’d get a good price. That’s for sure.’

  ‘But I didn’t really do anything in that scam, not that concerns Germany, anyway. I haven’t been charged by the Germans.’

  ‘You will be once I snitch on you.’

  I burst out laughing.

  ‘Okay, Roger, snitch on me, but only if none of my other plans work.’

  ‘What! You have a plan to escape from here! Funnily enough, I’ve been thinking the same thing. Ain’t that something? We need to get some jewellers’ string, that stuff which cuts through bars. I asked Marie to put one in the next food parcel. I don’t know if she will. She’s weird these days.’

  ‘I was think
ing of my plans to beat extradition in court, not escape.’

  ‘You won’t beat it, Howard. Not the US. You have to deal with them. Make them think you’re giving them something. Then they give you something. That’s the way it goes. The Feds don’t lose. They get whomever they want. Believe me.’

  Gustavo, who was unashamedly listening to all this conversation, interrupted.

  ‘Mr Reaves is wrong, Howard. The Americans do not always succeed in extraditing who they want. They did not get Ochoa. They will not get you. And (this is good news for you, Howard, I know) they will not get Balendo Lo. I have just called Bernard Simons. A partner in his firm represents Mr Lo. The British authorities have refused to extradite Mr Lo. Today, Mr Lo is a free man.’

  ‘That’s great news, Gustavo. Is it for sure?’

  ‘Bernard himself told me. Bernard is, of course, only too glad to testify for you at the extradition hearing.’

  ‘I still think the Feds will get him,’ said Roger. ‘They always do.’

  Gustavo indicated he wanted to see me privately. Roger and his lawyer went their separate ways.

  ‘The Audiencia Nacional have agreed to allow you and Judy to have a conjugal visit. She will be brought to this prison at the beginning of next month. She will stay two hours.’

  Every Monday at about 11 a.m., a prison van brings five or six female prisoners from Centro Penitenciario de Yeserias to Alcala-Meco to meet their incarcerated husbands and boyfriends. The males patiently wait in a holding cell, clutching a pair of freshly laundered sheets, a pack of prison-issue condoms, and a thermos flask. Each couple is taken to a bedroom and left to their own devices. Judy looked well and wonderful. The cancer of despair had gone, and her humour had returned. She seemed fairly optimistic about her chances of beating extradition, and daily life in Yeserias had been made more bearable by her having made a couple of good friends. Marcus’s visits were keeping her in touch, as well as providing her with what comforts were allowed. Much was discussed but little decided. We made love. It was amazing. Just as well. It was going to have to last for several years.