and definitely we did not want them to check our identities. We didn’t know what the government had on file about us. We had to get out of there.

The police made the mistake of leaving a nightstick in their car. We were able to use that to reach into the front and open the locks. We opened the door and got out of the patrol car. We ran. We took a taxi back to the hotel and got out of there with our belongings, spending the night at the home of a friend. Otto and Pinina stayed at the accident and paid the owner about $10,000 cash, much more than the cost of repairs. But to be careful we left Florida the next morning.

We went to Washington, D.C., and did the tour of the FBI Building, we visited President Kennedy’s grave, and we had our pictures taken in front of the White House. I remember that Pablo was fascinated by the FBI museum, particularly the guns belonging to the famous criminals like Al Capone and Pretty Boy Floyd. From there we went to Memphis to see Elvis Presley’s house, Graceland. Pablo Escobar and Elvis Presley, the two kings! Pablo loved Elvis’s music. He played his tapes all the time and used to try to dance like him. “Look at me, Colombian Elvis!” While we were there he bought the entire collection of Elvis’s music—and years later when we submitted ourselves to arrest that collection was one of the things he took into the prison with him. When we left prison we couldn’t take it with us, which Pablo always regretted. Somebody stole it.

Our families went home and Gustavo, Pablo, and I went to Las Vegas. We had arranged for more than $1 million in cash to be waiting there for us. We stayed at Caesars Palace for five days, and I actually won $150,000 playing blackjack. We had an American friend who made all the arrangements for us, and he was the one who introduced us to Frank Sinatra, who was singing at the hotel. Supposedly our friend, who did big real estate deals, told him that we were important real estate investors from Colombia. It quickly became obvious that Sinatra thought we were involved in the Mafia, but I don’t know if he knew of our involvement in the drug business. I have absolutely no knowledge if Pablo and Sinatra did any business. There are stories, but I don’t know the facts.

I know that we had dinner one night with Sinatra and our translators in a private room in the back of a restaurant. It was an honor for us. When I met him I actually had goose bumps, but I had to be cool to maintain my position. During dinner Pablo told Sinatra that we were going to make a helicopter tour the next day and Sinatra asked to come with us. The next day Frank Sinatra became our guide as we spent about an hour and a half flying all over the area. This is the Colorado River, this is the Grand Canyon. He showed us all the scenery.

We got some of his albums signed by him—and lost those too when we escaped from the prison.

Supposedly, after Pablo became infamous our friend who had arranged this got a phone call from Sinatra. “I’ve been watching TV,” he said. “Is that Pablo Escobar the guy we met in Las Vegas?” I don’t know what happened after that, but I guess Sinatra said very firmly that he didn’t want to be associated with Pablo. And until now he never has.

It was a great life we were leading. We had to be careful with our actions, but nothing like what it would soon become. Although none of us knew it at the time, the wars had actually begun in 1979, when the United States and Colombia signed a treaty that declared drug trafficking a crime against the United States and permitted Colombian traffickers to be extradited to the U.S. It was that law that changed everything.

Four

IKNOW THAT AS THE PRESSURE ON PABLO INCREASED, as people who had profited from him betrayed him, to protect himself and his family and the business, Pablo became vengeful against those who deceived him or his organization. But for as many people who will tell you that Pablo killed someone himself there are as many who say that he only gave the orders. Pablo wouldn’t kill anybody himself, and of that I am sure. The