Robert Johnson's music included Cross Road Blues,, (later turned into Crossroads as performed by Cream), a tale of a mythical Mississippi intersection where one could sell one's soul to the devil. My favourite title was Terraplane Blues. Do our readers know what a Hudson Terraplane was ?

Since the client and I had a close relationship, due to our mutual participation in disposing of the proceeds of crime, I was asked to provide legal support for the project. First, we took a pilgrimage a the retirement condominium residence, on Florida's Gold Coast, of the writer's entertainment lawyer, and obtained an option on the screenplay.

The client had made a connection with two individuals who appeared to be consultants for Playboy Productions, who were planning on producing the movie, and the client had stars in his eyes when he told me that they had approached Prince to play the lead. Of course, I doubted this rumour, but I later saw the fact confirmed in several places.

We soon traveled to Hollywood, with the screenwriter in tow, looking, I imagine, much like characters from Miami Vice; staying at a Beverly Hills hotel, shopping on Rodeo Drive, and holding meetings with the producers, who came well equipped, complete with a Pacific Coast Highway address. Hustlers talking to hustlers; could anything good come out of it ?

A couple of weeks after we returned from California, the news appeared in the entertainment industry paper, Variety. The slick producers had, it alleged, engaged in certain criminal activity, unrelated  to us, were terminated by the studio and engaged in litigation. The project went up in smoke, no pun intended, but it certainly was interesting playing at being an entertainment lawyer. The play was later published, but never filmed, I learned years later.

Sometimes, the clients had needs I could easily satisfy. One client group, wishing to purchase an airplane in America to smuggle drugs in from Jamaica, needed a cashiers cheque for a substantial amount of money. Coincidentally, a second client organisation had funds offshore that it wanted repatriated, in cash, to the US. My role was therefore  easier; I would purchase a cheque offshore, in the tax havens of the Caribbean, for one client with the funds of another, and pay the client who wanted his funds back in the US with the money the other client needed to send offshore. It turned to be painless, but there was some unexpected heat on yours truly years later.

When I was ultimately arrested for money laundering, and was interrogated by a Customs agent, I was repeatedly asked about my airplane. It turned out that the client who purchased the plane was unhappy that the offshore cheque, a draft drawn on the bank's New York correspondent account, took several days to clear. he put the smuggling plane in my name, and sent it ion to Jamaica to work.

The plane  was apparently burned on the runway by an unruly group in western Jamaica, who were unhappy that a bribe had not been paid to them, and the pilot, still inside the aircraft, was burned alive. Imagine how I felt when I had to learn, from prison, that a client had deliberately exposed me by naming me as record owner, where there was a fatality.

I choose my clients carefully, and refrained from working for groups that I didn't trust, but sometimes had to suffer the wrath of partners of clients. One good client, a former lieutenant in a major organisation, went out on his own, and took on some partners who were a problem. After his arrest, they threatened me with death if I moved a certain veteran smuggling vessel that had been "retired" after many successful missions. They later were arrested and convicted in another part of the country. When their parole hearing came up, a government agent offered my the opportunity to present evidence of their criminal history in opposition to their release. What would you do ?

COMING UP:  The story continues in two weeks, after the holiday season; Next installment will appear on 2 January, 2007.