I returned to my law practice in Miami, having escaped justice, albeit temporarily. Back at work meant I had to exercise extreme care in my ongoing active money laundering operations, for I assumed, correctly, that I was under surveillance, and that law enforcement was seeking to accumulate sufficient evidence against me to obtain an indictment from the Grand Jury.

To make matters worse, one of my prominent Miami clients' organisations was at that time the embroiled in a major criminal case, being prosecuted by a Federal Task Force, in Northern Florida, where juries were much more conservative than in Urban Miami. One of the kingpins, having seen the handwriting on the wall, fled the country for Spain with his entire family, where his millions ensured immunity from extradition, provided that certain government officials were adequately compensated.

His brothers, with the level of arrogance successful career criminals often assume after a couple of good years of operation, and believing that the best lawyers can extricate them from any adverse circumstance, chose to remain home and fight the charges in court. Of course, they had the best criminal defence attorneys money could buy, professionals with a long record of successes, whom assured them of a stellar defence. They also held out a tasty carrot to the clients; if we lose at trial, we will win on appeal. A pipe dream if there ever was one.    

Unfortunately, most of those vaunted courtroom successes had come in state, and not Federal, court, where prosecutors had huge caseloads, mistakes were made, and guilty defendants could take advantage of the fact that discovery, the ability to learn about the government's case through depositions, was available. In Federal criminal cases, there is effectively no advance warning provided of the strength (and weaknesses) of the government's case, with rare exceptions. 

Add to this the fact that the judge (the same jurist that I had encountered during my session with the Grand Jury) was a conservative Southern gentlemen who was rumoured to have had a child with a drug problem. Not exactly the type of objective individual who would treat your Miami Cuban defendants with respect or deference. Though he might appear to be impartial, in truth and in fact, he would later visit what can only be described as justice on biblical proportions upon the defendant.

After the jury came back with guilty verdicts, based in part upon actual seizures of narcotics attempting to land on American territory, and also on the testimony of many co-conspirators given either immunity or reduced sentences for their cooperation, the most prominent kingpin to take the case to trial received a sentence of life in prison, plus 200 years tacked on for good measure. I've often thought people found guilty of attempting to assassinate the President of the United States wouldn't get such a Draconian sentence. Legally, the sentence was not only clearly excessive, but it may have violated existing sentencing guidelines. I guess the judge was trying to make a point; he certainly did with me.

 One wonders what his attorneys told him after sentencing; they did, as promised, take an appeal, but, like many, it did not result in any major modification of the convictions. The kingpin, who was one of many defendants to be convicted in that case, later would serve twenty years before his eventual release, which came long after the judge had assumed senior (part-time semi-retired) status, and finally relinquished control of the destinies of the defendants in what was then the largest narcotics-trafficking case in that District.

Of course, objectively, they only had themselves to blame. When the clients earned $200m in illicit profits, their income placed them in the category of drug kingpins, and the punishment they received was adjusted to fit the crimes they committed. Meanwhile, where were the other  kingpins?

• One had fled to Mexico, and she remains a fugitive from justice to this day. One must assume she had bogus identification and visits, or even resides in, the US, under a cleverly constructed and assumed identity.
• The other moved to France, becoming a successful multilingual book publisher until he made the mistake of laundering money for others, was arrested, and eventually extradited to Miami, but only after spending seven long months in a French prison, where the locals broke a few of his ribs.  
• The one previously mentioned hid out in Spain for years, spent some time behind the "sugarcane curtain" in Communist Cuba, but was eventually apprehended in Canada (where he owned shopping centres) after he made the mistake of carrying around his real passport, together with the bogus ones.

 Against this backdrop of justice enforced, my life went on, though all money laundering trips were launched without any advance notice, with my airline tickets bought barely two hours before takeoff, and I literally hid amongst the tourists, wonder if and when my time would come. Arrivals into the United States had an air of unreality, for I never know which trip would be my last, or if the long arm of the law would appear without warning. But I continued to ply my trade, for it was all about beating the system, moving that cash into the darkness of the Caribbean tax havens.

Next Week: Operating just (barely) under the radar.