“What choice do we have?” Jan replied.
She could still see the man on the street corner, the taxi driver across the street and the burning tips of cigarettes through the windows of the black sedan with the men inside, motionless, waiting.
Jim was standing on the step just below her, eyes glazed and trembling with fear. Jan’s gaze darted from him to the sedan. Then she saw a motion from the taxi across the street, very subtle, very quiet and watched it as if it were in slow motion. The driver’s hand appeared, coming out of the car at an odd angle, holding something that glinted in the streetlight.
With horror, she realized it was a gun and it was pointing in her direction.
Thereafter, another black sedan turned the corner and drove slowly down the street. At that moment, Jan thought, ‘This is it. This is what they had all been waiting for. Now it was only a matter of time.’
The car pulled to the curb in front of the house next door, a few feet behind the black sedan and shut off its motor. A burly Peruvian man stepped out of the car and Jan noted that he looked just like the others. The tension mounted as the man walked to the passenger side and opened the door. A woman emerged and Jan wondered if she, too, was involved in the set-up.
The couple walked together up the steps of the house next door. When the man rang the doorbell and there was no answer, he knocked on the door vigorously. Seeing this, Jan quickly realized that they were not involved with the other thugs. With a surge of hope, she ran over to them and breathlessly asked for help in Spanish.
“Señor, could you please call a taxi for us? We’re American tourists and we’re lost.”
The woman nodded, still waiting for the maid to open the door. Another minute passed and there was still no response.
Upon hearing Jan’s request, the man looked around the neighborhood and noticed something was amiss. He saw the other black sedan with its occupants sitting quietly, smoking cigarettes and the taxi across the street with the hood open and driver perched casually on the seat inside. Just down the street, he intently scrutinized the well-dressed man smoking on the corner.
After giving Jan and Jim a long look, the man walked around the back of the house and pounded loudly on the maid’s door, finally waking her. A few moments later, the porch light turned on and everyone heard the sound of sliding bolts. As the door opened, the man and woman stepped quickly inside. The woman turned to Jan and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll call a taxi for you. Just wait here.” She closed the door and turned off the porch light. Jan crumpled against the door in shock.
The minutes ticked by slowly. Nobody made a move; not Jan, or Jim, not any of the men in the street. They just waited, timed by the beats of Jan’s pounding heart. For the first time in her life, she felt helpless, like a cornered animal waiting for the kill. It was now or never, she thought.
Just then, yet another black sedan turned into the street, driving slowly past each house as if looking for something. Once again Jan thought, ‘This is it’, and waited expectantly as the car drew nearer. All eyes were on the sedan as it came to a stop three houses away from where Jan and Jim stood. She held her breath.
Suddenly, a light flicked on, illuminating the word ‘taxi’ on the roof of the car. With a surge of relief, Jan guessed that this was the taxi the old woman had called for them. She ran towards it, dragging Jim along with her.
Pulling the door open, they dove inside the back seat as the driver turned his head and asked, “Lima?”
Jan nodded vigorously, unable to speak as the car pulled away heading toward the city lights. Still trembling, she observed the other cars beginning to follow them onto the highway. Jim was staring blankly ahead, white with fear, then turned again to view the cars falling behind and eventually turning off the highway. Relieved, she sank back into her seat and closed her eyes for the remainder of the ride back into Lima.
Arriving at the hotel a short while later, Jan jumped out of the taxi leaving Jim to pay the fare and rushed up to the desk clerk. “Could you please check the airlines for the next flight to Santa Cruz, Bolivia,” she asked anxiously.
Jan waited patiently in the lobby to regain her composure until the desk clerk signaled that he had the information she requested. Dashing back to the counter she blurted out, “Got somethin’ for me?”
“After a few phone calls I found out that Varig has a flight leaving at 6:00 AM this morning. Shall I book you a seat?”
“Yes! Please!” Jan responded with a relieved look on her face. A huge load had just been lifted off her shoulders knowing that she was leaving Peru, the sooner the better.
She headed to the elevators to return to her hotel room, still shaken and scared to the core. At that moment, the only thing on her mind was ‘Get the hell out of Lima.’ Her flight was hours away, so she hurriedly gathered up all her things and threw them into the suitcase.
Jan also discovered that the gold coke spoon she had carried with her since the first trip to Bolivia was missing from the pant pocket. Perhaps it had fallen somewhere in that dark neighborhood or in the mafia taxi. She thought, ‘Better the spoon than my life’.
Abruptly, there was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” Jan queried.
“It’s me, Jim.”
As she peeked through the gap in the slightly opened door, Jim stood there dazed and confused still trying to process what had happened to them just hours earlier. Jan felt indifferent towards him as he walked into the room and sat down on the bed. She was dismayed that his ignorance about Wayne’s background contributed to the nightmare of a drug deal gone horribly wrong. Jim probably would have been dead at this very moment had she not dragged him from Wayne’s apartment.
Sadly, Billy was the unfortunate victim who paid the ultimate price; murdered while trying to score on this trip. His suitcase was still in his room and Jan didn’t know how to deal with it. Nor could she decide whether to call Ed now or wait until after she left Lima to inform him of Billy’s murder.
“If you stay one more day, I’m sure we can score tomorrow,” Jim meekly muttered.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Billy was the one who wanted the coke, not me. Now he’s dead, assassinated by those goons that Wayne knew.”
After snapping the lid shut on her suitcase, she sat down on the bed next to Jim.
“I’m leaving early this morning for Santa Cruz, Bolivia. I need to say good-bye to a friend who lives there before I head home to Ibiza. We’ll just let the hotel deal with Billy’s suitcase and personal items when they discover he never checked out. We registered separately so they wouldn’t know we were together. You have to understand that I can’t be associated with him in any way. That’s the ugly truth of this business.”
“I’ll live with this tragedy for the rest of my life. I feel responsible for what happened to Billy,” Jim said with remorse.
“And I did everything I could to save him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Now I’m fuckin’ depressed and feel shitty because I’m the one who brought him to Bolivia. I’ll have a guilty conscience forever,” Jan replied with contrition. Dumbfounded, she picked up her suitcase, turned, and walked out the door.
While taking a taxi to the airport, she tried to calm her nerves, not wanting anyone to misinterpret her nervousness. Even though Jan arrived hours early before her flight, she was just glad to be in a safe and secure environment. The long wait for the flight to Santa Cruz was a pleasurable moment compared to what she had to deal with the night before. Exhaustion oozed through her body and she had to fight to stay awake. Jan was looking forward to catching up on her sleep in the plane.
Returning to her room at the El Cortez Hotel, Jan promptly called the Fat Man and arranged to meet that evening. As she hung up the phone, she glanced at the dresser mirror and took a long, hard look at herself, horrified that her face appeared to have aged at least ten years in the past couple of days. There were dark circles under her
eyes and her clear complexion was now riddled with redness and bumps. Obviously the stress was showing.
Jan climbed into bed for a quick nap before the Fat Man arrived, but she couldn’t sleep while thinking about her traumatic escape hours earlier in Lima. Never having experienced such fear in her life, she hoped it would never happen again. Worst of all, Jan was aggravated about what she was going to tell Ed about Billy’s murder.
After tossing and turning for several hours, trying to catch up on her sleep, she finally gave up. Instead, she freshened up with a shower and prepared for Papi’s arrival. Even though she felt much better physically, emotionally she was still a wreck.
Finally, there was a knock at the door and Jan anxiously opened it. Papi paused for a moment as he looked her over. “Is everything alright, Chiquita?” After explaining the outcome of the drug fiasco in Lima, Papi merely shook his head in disbelief.
“What the hell am I going to tell his friend Ed about what happened to Billy?” Jan pondered in desperation.
“‘May he rest in peace’,” Papi responded facetiously, then assumed a more serious demeanor. “There’s a reason Ed didn’t come himself. The smart ones always let others take the risks for them.”
She felt an oddly unique bond with the Fat Man at that moment, as if he were her big brother or mentor. “You’ll never get ripped off if you buy your coke from me, Chiquita.” As a sign of his commitment, he placed his hand on hers.
“Lesson learned. You’re my only connection from now on.”
“Travel safely. I hope to see you again soon,” Papi replied. They rose together, did their usual hug and he left the room.
She also made the decision never to contact Moises again to score coke since it could rekindle a romantic relationship. The Fat Man was now her solid, number one drug connection.
Jan now directed her attention to the floor vent where she had previously hidden the half-kilo package of cocaine that Papi gave her before meeting Billy, as well as her money belt and their passports. She withdrew her Swiss Army knife and went to work removing the vent screws, then pulled everything out. After taking a long look at Billy’s passport photo and thumbing through the stamped pages, Jan reluctantly placed it back in the vent and screwed the cover back on.
Her conscience was really bothering her at this point. How could she dismiss Billy’s existence? Would anyone ever discover his passport where she left it hidden? Would anyone ever discover his body in Lima? Or, undoubtedly, he was probably floating in the ocean somewhere with the anchovies. She felt culpable and helpless that there was nothing more she could have done to save him, nor could she go searching for him.
She returned to her suitcase and pulled out the large ceramic fertility goddess that Jim had given her. Upon careful examination, Jan noticed there was a paper label covering a wide hole on the bottom of the Indian relic. She gently peeled it off and discovered the body cavity was hollow. Bingo! The light bulb flashed in Jan’s head; put the coke inside the statue and mail it back to Ibiza.
Papi had often suggested using the postal service idea to avoid carrying drugs back with her. The only question was, who could she trust with her investment? Without hesitation, Carol was the first person that came to mind. She was the perfect choice to receive the contraband at her boutique.
After packaging goddess Pacamama, Jan walked to the nearby Santa Cruz post office to send her parcel. Once inside, she noticed it was a small family market as well, with candy bars and fruit on the counter. Jan placed her labeled box in front of the postal window.
“Ibiza, Spain,” she told the clerk.
“Air Mail?” the clerk asked.
“Yes, if that’s the quickest way to get it there.”
Mailing the package gave Jan a temporary feeling of relief knowing half the battle was now over; the coke was on its way out of Bolivia. But arriving safe and sound was the other half of the battle. She wouldn’t know that outcome until after returning home and visiting her friend Carol. Hopefully, Pacamama would arrive intact without being intercepted or else Jan would have a humongous problem dealing with Carol’s drug bust which she had caused.
She was ecstatic after arriving home in Ibiza; her safe haven overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. However, she still couldn’t shake the horrible memories of the last trip and was vexed about making that final, unavoidable phone call to Ed. Jan needed more time to think about how and when to break the news to him.
The next day, she called Carol to let her know she was back in town. Obviously, the most important question Jan wanted to ask was if the precious souvenir had arrived. Fortunately, the answer was “Yes.” The postman had delivered it that day and Carol thanked her profusely for the gift.
Hallelujah!! That was music to Jan’s ears. She wanted to save the best news for last and decided not to reveal what was inside the ceramic statue. Since Carol was anxious to see Jan, she invited her over that evening to share the smuggling adventures.
Carol greeted her with a warm embrace and a specially rolled Moroccan hashish joint before they settled down on an oversized leather couch. Jan took a long drag, holding the smoke in her lungs interminably. Carol just stared at her with a look of amazement waiting for her to exhale. Finally she blew out a cloud of smoke and began coughing from the unexpected harshness of the weed.
“I shouldn’t have taken such a large hit. I forgot how strong hashish is,” Jan admitted.
“I bet you’ve been snorting more coke than smoking pot,” Carol replied.
“Only to sample it before I buy the product.”
“So tell me everything about your second trip to Bolivia? Did you score anything?” Carol inquired.
“Yes, I scored big time. Would you like to see it?”
“Did you bring the stuff with you?” Carol asked.
“Not exactly. It’s already here.”
“What do you mean?” Carol said.
“Go get the souvenir I sent you.”
Carol was confused by Jan’s request but retrieved the ceramic statue from her bedroom and handed it to Jan. “This is a pregnant Peruvian fertility goddess named Pacamama.”
“Totally cool. Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me something? Carol asked.
Jan burst out laughing. “No way. But she’s pregnant and ready to deliver.”
“Would you stop teasing me and tell me what you mean.”
Jan turned the ceramic piece over to reveal the paper label on the bottom covering the large hole. As she gently peeled it off, Carol was amazed at what was revealed inside. Jan pulled out three full plastic baggies of white gold from inside the fertility goddess.
Carol’s face lit up with a huge smile. She was elated not to have been busted for receiving drugs in the mail and flabbergasted to have received such a huge quantity of snow delivered right to her doorstep, thanks to the international postal service. They both high fived, cut some cocaine on a mirror, and snorted a line together.
“You really blow me away, Jan, literally. I had no idea that you would turn into a master smuggler. And if it weren’t for me, you never would have done it.”
“You know, Carol, you’re absolutely right. And that’s why I’m gonna give you some of this coke as a gift of gratitude,” Jan informed her.
“Outta sight!” Carol shouted.
They celebrated together with another line and all was well. Jan had scored enough cocaine, which after being cut, processed, and sold, would provide enough money along with the earnings from her first smuggle, to travel anywhere in the world for several years. When she ran out of cash, she could decide whether to do another trip to Bolivia. At this moment, however, Jan was still too traumatized by Billy’s death to ever consider doing another smuggle.
A few days passed before Jan finally summoned the strength to make that serious call to Ed. It was the most difficult conversation she would ever have to initiate. She pick
ed up the phone and dialed his number. Her heart was beating rapidly anticipating what was about to happen. Maybe he wouldn’t answer and his phone machine would pick up. It rang three times.
“Hello.”
Jan paused for a moment before responding. “Hey Ed, it’s Jan. I’m back from Bolivia but …Billy is still there,” she awkwardly informed him, holding her breath waiting for his response.
“I wondered when I’d hear back from you guys. Why did Billy stay behind?”
“He’s not coming back,” Jan could barely admit.
“Why not?”
“Because he was murdered in Lima by the Peruvian mafia.” There was silence on the other line. Jan waited a few uncomfortable seconds for a response.
“Oh my God. What happened?” Ed asked in disbelief.
“Unfortunately, Billy blew it with my connection Papi. He ended up making his own drug deal with questionable people he’d just met. I reluctantly went along with him to the apartment where he was buying the stuff, but something didn’t feel right. I urged him to split with me out of there to save our asses and he just refused. Luckily, I escaped but I heard him screaming and then the gunshots. It was horrible. I’m so sorry to tell you the bad news.”
Jan could hear Ed crying and didn’t know what to say. She felt sick to her stomach. “Do you know if Billy had any relatives?” Jan asked.
Ed regained his composure and responded, “None. His mother was one of my patients, but she died with his father in a car accident years ago when Billy was a teenager. I took him under my wing and helped him out ever since.”
“Regrettably, Billy’s stubbornness cost him his life,” Jan informed him.
“Sadly, I know. He had a mind of his own. You could never tell him anything for his benefit. When he got older and matured, he was a lot better. I was like a good friend to him.” Ed replied. “So where’s his body? Is he in a morgue somewhere?”
“I have no idea,” Jan admitted. “Obviously, we can’t go looking for him. They’ve probably dumped him in the ocean.”
“I should never have let him go. It’s entirely my fault,” Ed lamented.
Rendezvous With the Fat Man Page 9
