“Jan, it’s so nice to see you again,” he said, kissing her on each cheek.
“And, this is my friend David.”
“Hello, David. Glad you came along to help.”
“Thank you for squeezing me into your busy work schedule on such short notice,” Jan said.
“We’ve got to start packaging your two kilos right away since you’re leaving in two days,” Jose Maria responded.
Jan pulled out the plastic packaging equipment and materials. “Do you think the plastic sheeting material can be sewn into the coat and leather bag?”
Jose Maria examined everything. “Yes, but it’s a lot of work.”
“That’s why I pay you well. You’re worth every penny,” Jan admitted.
The three of them set to work that evening, packaging the cocaine into the corrugated plastic sheets, cutting to size, sealing them, and sewing most of the tubing into the MacGregor coat and the remainder in the leather bag. They worked until six o’clock the next morning, exhausted but very happy with the completed job. Eager to return to Buenos Aires, Jan paid Jose Maria for his services and drove back that day.
The mule Larry never knew the actual amount of cocaine that he would be carrying through customs. Jan didn’t think it was really important to tell him since that information could make him more nervous than he already was. She just handed Larry the coat and leather bag in Buenos Aires and told him what to do.
Three days later, they arrived separately at the airport for their return trip to the United States. Jan boarded the plane first, placing her cosmetic case in the overhead compartment. She grabbed an airline magazine and pretended to read as the rest of the passengers boarded, finally seeing David and Larry walk by from her peripheral vision. They were seated behind the curtain in the coach section. Each of them was now sitting in different sections of the plane to deflect any attention that they were traveling together.
Upon arriving at Los Angeles International Airport, David and Larry disembarked separately, walking down the airport corridor at a respectable distance towards U.S. Customs. Jan was trailing behind them halfway down the corridor. Each one of them was psyched up to deliver their contrived stories with the Customs Agent.
Larry went first. The Agent carefully scrutinized him, face devoid of any expression, not even a grin. It was impossible to read his body language. “Purpose of your visit?” the agent asked.
Larry handed over his passport. “Skiing in Bariloche.”
The agent looked at his passport photo, then looked closely at Larry’s face, now covered with two days stubble. He thumbed through the stamped pages and studied them meticulously. After unzipping the leather bag, he searched through the clothes, feeling around carefully. Larry’s heart started beating faster as he tried to look nonchalant. He knew the leather bag concealed the cocaine, but didn’t know how much and where it been sewn into the lining. To his relief, the agent returned the contents into the bag since his main focus shifted to the steamer trunk, just as Jan and Larry had anticipated.
The agent opened the trunk, pulled out a plastic baggie filled with souvenirs and poured them onto the counter to inspect; nothing unusual there. He saw a knit ski cap with ‘Bariloche’ stitched across the front which confirmed Larry’s destination in Argentina.
“That’s for my girlfriend. Do you think she’ll like it?” Larry asked.
“Sure,” the agent responded dryly.
He pulled out all the drawers in the trunk and checked the contents while Larry waited patiently knowing that nothing incriminating was going to be found. Satisfied that everything was in order, the agent shut the trunk lid with quick force. He handed back his passport and pointed to the exit. Larry smiled from ear to ear and gladly walked away.
Amazingly, Jan and David breezed through customs as well; there were no body searches or removal of clothing or boots. Larry hesitated and waited for David to catch up, congratulating each other with a slap on the back for a job well done.
Jan was furious that they had ignored her explicit instructions to avoid contact until everyone was safely outside the terminal. This breach of instructions so near to the finish line was unacceptable. She flashed a stern glare at them as she approached making sure each one got the message. They caught her look and immediately split up.
Each one of them took separate taxis to the Century Plaza Hotel and arrived at the same time. Larry exited his taxi first and walked over to Jan’s vehicle, opened the door, then handed over the MacGregor coat, placed the leather bag on the back seat, unzipped it, and removed his belongings in front of the taxi driver.
“Looks like a CIA operation to me,” the taxi driver joked.
Everybody laughed nervously.
“I’m headin’ home. I’ll call you later,” Larry informed Jan.
“Great trip,” she responded.
“Yeah…and probably my last one,” he confessed.
Larry took his taxi back to the airport for a flight home to San Francisco while Jan and David walked inside the hotel with their precious luggage. Their anxiety to unload the contraband was off the charts. After registering with the desk clerk, they quickly proceeded up to their rooms.
Once they settled in, Jan ordered her favorite bubbly: two bottles of Dom Perignon ’71 champagne to toast their successful smuggle. They were eager to start the tedious work of dismantling the coat and leather bag to divide the cocaine into ounce-sized packages. But more urgent for David was removing the coke taped on his legs to alleviate the pain he was enduring.
He exhaled a huge sigh of relief when the last taped baggie was removed, but was blown away when he saw how inflamed his skin looked; it was literally raw. “That tape drove me crazy the whole trip.”
“But wasn’t the reward worth it?”
“Well, now that the pain is gone, hell ya,” he admitted.
David picked Jan up and swung her around the room. Suddenly, they were startled by a knock at the door and looked at each other in panic. Jan grabbed the baggies, put them in her purse, took a dollar from her wallet, and hid everything in the closet.
“Who is it?” Jan inquired.
“It’s room service with your champagne.”
Jan opened the door and handed the dollar tip to the room server. “I’ll take it from here,” she responded and rolled the cart into the room.
“Phew! I forgot we called room service. Let’s party and toast to the biggest score I’ve ever done.” They clinked their champagne glasses and eagerly sipped to their heart’s content.
“And another toast to us for a fuckin’ outstanding job,” David declared.
“Right on! I’ll snort to that. Let’s sample the product,” Jan responded.
She retrieved her purse from the closet and pulled out one of the baggies, dipped her coke spoon inside and scooped the pure crystals onto her hand mirror. After chopping it up and forming lines, Jan rolled a $100 bill and snorted, passing the rolled bill to David who snorted a line as well. They both fell back into their chairs to enjoy the stimulation.
“Man, I thought we worked well together,” Jan boasted
“Frankly, I’m glad the trip is over,” David said.
“I’m used to this double life now. So, what do think about smuggling cocaine?” Jan queried.
“The marijuana business fits me better. I’m a pot smuggler at heart,” David admitted.
“To each his own. You earned big bucks on this trip. Would you ever consider returning to the scene of the crime?” Jan asked.
“To be honest, smuggling cocaine is so fuckin’ intense,” David admitted.
“Well, I’m thinking about one more big score in a month or two and I really need your help. I did enjoy your company,” Jan admitted.
There was a long silence and David didn’t respond.
“I’ll even throw in an extra two grand because I can’t do i
t alone,” Jan confessed.
After another long pause of contemplation, David responded. “Hmmmmm, money talks. Sí señorita. Count me in.”
Despite some scares, interminable waiting and some inconveniences, this trip had been remarkably smooth. Jan knew that other smugglers she met or worked with never wanted to smuggle again after their first time. David was right. Smuggling cocaine was “fuckin’ intense” for him and for most people. Nevertheless, she definitely didn’t want to travel alone on her next trip and was elated that David agreed to rejoin her.
Why did Jan continue returning into the ‘eye of the storm’? Besides the money, which was too irresistible and addictive to ignore, it was definitely the challenge to outwit her male counterparts and survive negotiating dangerous drug deals. That boosted her ego beyond words. She definitely relished the bragging rights and explaining to others the rush she felt every time she walked out of an airport terminal without getting caught with the goods.
She had never met another female cocaine smuggler, only macho men. It took a lot of balls to do it, and most women her age preferred being homemakers or career girls. That lifestyle was not part of Jan’s world nor did she want to mingle in it. It was not exciting enough. She didn’t want to give up her independence and freedom of choice, so marriage or a long term relationship was not an option. Jan always believed in her gut intuition and felt working with David was meant to be and the reason why this last smuggle went so well.
However, the next ‘big one’ would be distinctly different.
Chapter 10 — Papi’s Bust
The next upcoming smuggle was to be Jan’s biggest: a total of five kilos with a net value of a little more than a quarter million dollars. This potential profit represented all the financial security that Jan had been looking for over the past six years. The sale of the two kilos Jan had purchased on her last trip had finally allowed her to amass enough money to make such a large buy. That, coupled with expenses for two, would amount to roughly $65,000 in cash.
Jan also decided that this would be her last trip south and the biggest smuggle of her career. She hoped to retire afterwards. She kept saying on her previous smuggles that they were her final trips. But this one was definitely the LAST TRIP. It would be a quickie, better known as the old in-and-out.
Preparation for the five-kilo trip took almost a month of solid planning. Materials had to he purchased, letters had to be written, and strategies had to be worked out. Since they had left Santa Cruz just a few weeks before, Jan felt that it was too risky for her to return there so soon. Therefore, she and the Fat Man agreed that he would prepare five kilos in Santa Cruz, then meet her and David for the buy in the much larger city of La Paz.
Jan began to pack supplies needed for the trip: her custom leather bag, various suitcases, the MacGregor coat, industrial plastics used to package the cocaine, the heat sealer, a variety of glues and tapes necessary to hold it all together since she discovered that Bolivian scotch tape didn’t stick too well. Once prepared, they waited expectantly for Papi’s telegram.
It was finally delivered early one Tuesday morning, instructing the pair to arrive in La Paz the following Friday. Jan immediately made plane reservations and put the rest of the planning into high gear. She called David with the good news.
“Hey, David. Pack your bags. We’re leaving next Friday.”
“Wow. That was quick,” he responded.
“We’re not going to Santa Cruz since we just got back from there. We’re going to La Paz.”
“Right on!” David said.
“I also decided to completely change my look. You may not even recognize me afterwards.”
“That should be interesting,” David mused.
“I’m transforming myself from a hip chick to a well-dressed, conservative businesswoman with a short, curly hairstyle.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” David responded.
The next day Jan went to the beauty salon and told the hairdresser to cut her long hair to shoulder length and perm it with soft curls. After enduring several hours sitting with plastic rods tightly rolled in her hair soaked with pungent chemicals, then water rinses, blow drying and styling, she finally looked in the mirror and tripped on her new appearance. Jan almost didn’t recognize herself. Mission accomplished. That was the exact goal she wanted to achieve; a new image for the next character role in her secret life. Her improv acting skills were ready to be used again.
With the new hairstyle checked off the to do list, Jan took a new passport photo and applied for a duplicate passport, claiming as usual that she had lost it, yet keeping her old one for the passport switch scheme. She also purchased conservatively styled clothes specifically for this trip. Their flight to Bolivia was scheduled to depart Los Angeles on a Friday evening, arriving in La Paz on Saturday morning. Her tempo quickened as the trip date approached.
When the time came to hide the enormous sum of cash she would be carrying, Jan decided to put it in the bottom of her metal Haliburton camera case. Experience had taught her that customs inspectors seldom gave her camera equipment more than a cursory glance. She carefully pulled out the foam rubber lining from the Haliburton case, neatly stacked piles of $100 dollar bills underneath and pushed the lining carefully back into place. She was pleased that even when open, the camera case showed no bulges.
It was pouring rain in Los Angeles the Friday night of their departure. After boarding the plane and settling comfortably into their first class seats, sitting apart in different rows, Jan and David fell asleep for the duration of the trip.
After landing, they entered the Customs Hall in La Paz. Jan walked up to the counter and laid down her camera and cosmetic cases, expecting the usual nod that she was free to go. Instead, the agent eyed the metal camera case and asked her to open it. She casually opened the locks and raised the lid, exposing several cameras, lenses, boxes of film and other photographic equipment. Jan stood ready to remove any piece of gear that he might want to examine more closely.
Rather than inspecting the removed equipment, he pulled up the foam rubber lining exposing a pile of $100 bills. An expression crossed his face that Jan couldn’t read. Her heart began to race. David also saw the exposed pile of money and turned his head away to pretend that he didn’t know what was going on. The Customs Agent then lifted up the other corner and exposed another pile of $100 bills. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and walked away, telling her to wait.
Jan stood there, outwardly calm, but her heart was pounding and her blood pressure instantly rose causing an uncomfortable dry mouth. She was struggling to conceal her panic. ‘Fuck, they might confiscate my money.’
The Customs Agent returned a few moments later with a man who appeared to be the supervisor. The second agent lifted up the corner of the foam rubber lining. His face lit up as he raised one of his eyebrows.
“How much money are you carrying?” the supervisor asked.
“There’s $5,000,” Jan replied quickly. My husband and I live in Argentina. Surely you know about the currency restrictions there. Have I done something wrong?”
The supervisor looked under the other corner of the camera case. “You’re allowed to bring as much money as you choose to Bolivia, but it has to be declared. This is a verbal declaration, so there’s no problem. I’m taking your passport to my office. Wait here.”
She closed the camera case carefully and took several deep breaths. It was not a good omen. While waiting for the supervisor to return with her passport, she felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to see the smiling face of Jaime Valdez, a longtime friend and public relations man for the Hotel Rosario where Jan often stayed. Surprised and delighted, they both began talking at the same time and then laughed.
“Jaime Valdez. How cool it is to see you. What a coincidence.”
“I wasn’t sure it was you. You changed your hairstyle,” Jaime responded.
“I got tired of long, straight hair. Are you still working at the Hotel Rosario?”
“Yes, I’m now the public relations director. That’s why I’m here at the airport. I dropped off some hotel guests and helped them at the ticket counter.”
The supervisor returned. “Miss Sherman. Here’s your passport. Excuse me one moment.” The supervisor immediately left to investigate a commotion at the far end of the counter. Jan recognized David’s voice and grabbed Jaime as she made her way over to the confrontation. They found David heatedly arguing with the supervisor.
“You have to pay equal value on this cassette radio before I allow it into the country which is $350,” the supervisor informed David.
Sizing up the situation quickly, Jaime graciously interrupted. “Señor, please accept this $20 as a favor.”
The supervisor knew Jaime and acquiesced in agreement. Before he changed his mind, Jan also pulled out $20 and discreetly handed it to the supervisor. Her bribe sealed the deal and they were allowed to leave the airport.
Jaime drove them to their hotel. But before checking in, Jan handed Jaime $20 as reimbursement for the money he paid the customs agent. Jaime graciously refused to accept her remuneration stating this was his good deed for the day. She thanked him profusely for his kindness and promised to treat him to dinner at the finest restaurant in La Paz on her next visit, ‘if there ever was another visit.’
Jan and David fell fast asleep in their separate rooms to rest from the long trip. Later that afternoon, Jan phoned Papi and his father answered. “Bueno,” he said.
“May I speak with Papi?” Jan asked in Spanish.
“My son is not home. He’s out of town and will be back in a few days.”
Jan was puzzled. “That’s strange. Papi sent a telegram instructing me to meet him on Sunday, which is tomorrow.”
Rendezvous With the Fat Man Page 15
