they had passed a law that made it necessary for the first time in our history to provide proof where your money had been earned and they charged me with that, and finally they charged me with escaping illegally from the Cathedral. They were making up all of these cases—except the escape, which I did, but only because we believed they were coming to kill us that day. The proof of that was that we immediately tried to make arrangements to surrender again. Originally they wanted me to be in prison for twenty-five years, and then they decided I should be in prison for forty years, and then it was fifty-eight years. So from the first day in prison I had to start fighting for my life.
After a month I was moved to a maximum security prison and my life changed forever. I was treated more like a normal prisoner. My attorney, Enrique Manceda, was allowed to bring a TV for me—although no one knew that inside that TV was a mobile phone. Unfortunately before my case could go forward Enrique was murdered. After having the mobile phone I spoke often with Pablo. I was one of the very few people he still could trust. Mostly he was traveling by himself, no driver, no security, and no friends. The people who got close to him now too often got killed. He moved around the city like a breath; he was never seen, but the government knew he was there. He had to stay away from all the places we knew because they were being watched; he had to stay away most of the time from all members of his family, as they were also being watched. They wrote letters to each other every day. Just getting his letters to them and from them required secret plans and secret codes. A good friend of Gustavo’s known as Carieton came to work for Pablo after Gustavo was killed, mostly just to carry this mail to Pablo. Carieton was the only one who knew where the family was hiding. When Carieton wanted to meet with the person who would get the mail for Pablo he would say to them, “All right, let’s meet at your mom’s house.” Since this person’s mother had died that meant they would meet at the cemetery. Another favored meeting place was the entrance to the biggest rum maker in Colombia. When they were to meet there Carieton would say, “Let’s have a shot of rum at three o’clock.” In this way Pablo was able to communicate with his family.
He was like a phantom; people would meet him and not know it it at all. One day he was wearing a costume and was going to a soccer game at the stadium. In the taxi he talked to the old driver. The driver told him he was struggling. “It’s tough. I’m worried because I’m behind on my payments and they’re trying to take away my taxi. It’s all I have and my family is huge.”
Pablo told him, “If you don’t mind, give me your phone number and address. Don’t be scared but I know somebody who might be able to help you.” The next day he sent some money for his debts to this old man’s home.
From the days of beautiful living at Napoles and taking helicopter rides with Frank Sinatra in Las Vegas, Pablo was now staying secretly with regular people in their homes, and never for more than one or two days. For example, Pablo told an assistant whose name I would not use in order to respect him and the good deeds he did, “Don’t be scared if I show up at your house one night because I’m staying in different places in the city.”
“That’s not a problem,” this man said. Then he informed his wife that Pablo Escobar might stay over for one night only and she shouldn’t be scared. Perhaps a week later he came home to find Pablo sitting in his living room watching the television alongside the man’s seven-year-old daughter. Later they were having dinner with the TV still on when a public announcement showed a picture of Pablo and offered a $5 million reward to anyone “If you tell us where Pablo Escobar is.”
The seven-year-old child looked at Pablo and laughed. “Oh, sir, you look just like him.”
They all laughed. The man explained to his daughter that Pablo was his uncle who had come to visit him. But she shouldn’t tell