It was August 19^th, 1998; hot and suffocating day in the middle of the summer in the city of Miami.  I was back at home, after a routine work day; I checked my answering machine.  One of the messages was from my oldest brother Fernando, who called from Peru. "So rare", I thought.  That phone call intrigued me exceedingly because usually it is me who always call there on the phone.  I didn't doubt it one second and picked the phone up to call there to satisfy my anxiety. 

The reason why my brother had called was my mom wasn't alright.  I guessed something like that was happening, with that kind of bad health my mom has, whipped by the hypertension, with cardiovascular disorders, diabetes, two pre-heart attacks before, cerebral aneurysm... anything wrong could happen to her.

After I spoke with my brother, I decided to go to Peru to be next to my progenitor.  I traveled on August19^th and as soon as I had arrived to Lima, went with my mother to see doctor Choi, her cardiologist.  He recommended her absolute repose and gave her a treatment to be followed at home.

That calmed me down.  Next day, being August the 20^th, my mother has a heart attack causing her confinement to the hospital.  The same day in the afternoon, she got the second heart attack putting the situation harder.  I have always been so close with her and all of this was hard to believe.  My mom, more than a mom, was my best friend I ever had.

"You have to be strong, son", told me some voice.  I raised my head up and saw my uncle Manuel, my mom's brother.

He is a very intelligent man, with good skills, always traveling around the world.  We use to see him rarely, only at any important event or date.  Some bad tongues in my family would say that my uncle Manuel is the lost sheep, the the true, he never looked like that, rather than that, his appearance was like a magnate, always refined, delicate and elegant.  This was the first time I had talked so close with him, maybe the sorrow was joining us.

"In life, you must learn how to withstand everything that comes over you and we can't crumble ourselves", continued my uncle.  "You will always have great times, full of happiness, bad times with sadness or any other nature; and now, right now it is a hard time in which we, the family, must stay together, more than ever..."

The time was running in slow motion, with no innovations, while my mom was lying on a bed monitored and in coma.  They were the longest days in my life.  After three days from her hospitalization, the Doctor let us go to see her, a visit that should be one at the time and quick.  My mom had recovered herself a few hours ago and it wouldn't be a good idea to agitate her and stop the recovery that way.  Great day of joy; and uncle Manuel was there with us, closer than ever.

Uncles, cousins and close friends were together, talking about the past, special moments, recollecting events, some of them joking, celebrating.  Almost all jokes and hints would go against my uncle Manuel because he had always been out of town.  Uncle Manuel had been major in the police (civil guard), head of Narcotics Unit, escort of the President of Peru, inspector of SIN (National Intelligence Service of Peru), and lawyer.  Certain gossips in our family would say that he was discharged from the police forces for being corrupt, others would say that he was a drug trafficker, but those kind of comments were a taboo and a mystery that nobody dared to investigate. 

"Hey, uncle, is that true that the policeman have no feelings and shoot their guns to point-blank if anybody is bothering?",  I asked my uncle as a joke.

"No, nephew", he smiles openly.  "I use my gun only when it is necessary, to defend myself.  I am not insensitive.  I have feelings like everybody else.  I would not hurt anyone, I am not crazy.  Do you think I could hurt you?  Check this out, nephew; you are my sister's son.  Half of the blood running in your veins, is the same blood I have.  Nephew, I love you very much and I want the best for you."

Two weeks later, my mom was released from the hospital. They forbade her to do many things, and her life would have to give a turn due the fragility of her heart.  Leaving my mom at home and out of danger, I went back to Miami, next to my wife and to accomplish with my daily activities;  it was on October 6^th 1998.

~ * ~

A couple of weeks later or so, my uncle Manuel called me on the phone to say hi; he was also in Miami, at his wife's house.  My uncle's family live in Miami, but we never see each other due to the absence of my uncle and also because they believe they are better people than any human being just because they have money.

My uncle told me to go to my cousin's house to celebrate the birthday of his grandson, my cousin Mañuco's son.  Mañuco is uncle Manuel's son.  At that party, we talked about our childhood (with my cousin) and remembered the past.  They had lived in Peru before, like me, even when I was born in Puerto Rico, I grew up in Peru; my parents are Peruvian citizens.  I went to that party with my roommate Renzo Assante, a young guy that came from Peru to live the American dream.

However, while I was doing my routine, I wasn't aware that my uncle had met with his friend Jose Delgado, a person that I have never seen in my life.  This guy, Jose Delgado, aka "Nico", used to deal with drugs; in the past my uncle was the supplier, and Nico was the distributor. 

While my uncle had been in Europe and Peru, Nico had had a problem with the police for being trafficking and did an agreement with the Prosecution and the Police; he was going to help the police with trafficking cases in exchange of credits to get a reduction of sentence on his charges he had pending in court.  Now Jose Delgado (Nico) would become a part of the team of confidential informants working for Detective Barnhouse.  Alicia Portugal, aka "Karla", was also in the same conditions as Nico, working for detective Barnhouse.

Jose Delgado, "Nico", had decided to set my uncle up with the police.  Nico told Detective Barnhouse that my uncle was a big fish and they made a plan to arrest my uncle.  The plan:  Nico would feign in front of my uncle that he has a friend named "Karla" (Alicia Portugal) and that she wanted to buy one kilo of cocaine.  Nico introduced both of them, my uncle and Karla. 

Carlos Ferreyros, my uncle's brother-in-law, used to hang out with my uncle Manuel; he was like my uncle's shadow.  He also got involved in my uncle's case due to his presence when the deal was set up. 

Karla (Alcia Portugal) told my uncle that she had a very good friend living up north and that was interested in buying a Kilo of cocaine.  This friend of hers (it was going to be Detective Barnhouse) would land in Fort Lauderdale airport, would pick the drug up, would give it to a flight attendant friend of his, she would smuggle the cocaine into the plane and they would go back up north.

My uncle Manuel, Carlos Ferreyros (his inseparable brother in law), Alicia Portugal (aka Karla) and Jose Delgado (Nico) participated in a series of phone calls talking about the deal they were planning.  There were calls recorded in a tape to be used as evidence against my uncle in court. 

Karla and Nico made an appointment with my uncle Manuel at Lester's dinner Restaurant located at Fort Lauderdale to get a sample of my uncle's cocaine, to check the quality.  My uncle went to that meeting with Carlos Ferreyros and did the delivery of one gram of cocaine inside of a little bag. 

Detective Barnhouse and team were hidden and witnessed the delivery of the sample.  They took pictures, video, audio, etc... more evidence for the case.  They agreed to do the delivery of the Kilo in a certain date, at the same restaurant.  When the day came, Detective Barnhouse and team were ready to do the arrest, but to his bad luck, my uncle didn't show up.

They called my uncle again and placed another date - Detective Barnhouse must have been hysterical to do the delivery.  My uncle promised them that this time he would show up.

~ * ~

October 29th, 1998, noon, I received a phone call.  It was my uncle Manuel: 

"Nephew, I need to ask you for a favor", my uncle said.
"Tell me", I replied.
"I need you to drive me to Fort Lauderdale because I have no car", he said.
"It's going to be hard for me, uncle", I denied.  "I have to go to pick my wife up later and then I go to work."
"Thank you anyway, nephew", he thanked me.

Fifteen minutes later he phoned back.

"Nephew, I've called Avis Rent-a-car", he explained.  "But they are asking me for a credit card.  I haven't brought neither my driver's license to Miami.  Could you please do me the favor to rent a car for me and I will pay you the $31.00 they charge in cash?"

I accepted reluctantly and went to Avis to rent a car for him.

"One more thing, nephew", he added.
"What?"
"Do you remember that little kid that went with you to the party of my grandson?" he asked.
"Yes", I replied.  "His name is Renzo Assante and he lives here with me."
"Does he have a driver's license?" my uncle questioned.
"Yes."

My uncle asked Renzo for the favor to drive the rental car in exchange of a tip; Renzo accepted.  After renting the car, I left Renzo and my uncle in the rental car and I went to pick my wife up.  When we arrived to my apartment, we met Renzo and my uncle sitting in the parking lot of my complex, waiting for me. Renzo didn't know how to get to Broward.

Since my uncle was in a hurry, he asked me again for the favor to drive him to Fort Lauderdale.  He offered to fill my car's tank and pay me for the ride.  Instinctively I crossed eyes with my wife, asking for help, and she said, "drive him. You still have like two hours before you go to work; you have enough time."  Great help, I thought.  The compromise was already done.

Because my uncle didn't know how long he was going to be in Fort Lauderdale in his affairs, we agreed that I would just drive him there and would drop him off.  Renzo would go following us in the rental car, watching openly the road to learn how to get there and then he would bring my uncle back to Miami when he finishes his concerns. 

We drove to Fort Lauderdale.  My uncle was sitting next to me in my car (passenger seat).  He had a blue jacket on his lap and a blue bag.  Renzo was following us in the other car.  "Two more blocks to get to the address you want to go to," I told my uncle.  "Then park the car in that gas station," and he pointed to an Amoco gas station.

My uncle got out from my car and went inside of the food mart; Renzo was already parked next to me.  My uncle bought some sodas for us and then got into Renzo's car.

"Give just a second before you go back to Miami, please," my uncle asked me.  I got a little bit upset because my uncle had said that I just was going to drop him off and now he was telling me to wait for him;  I couldn't do nothing but wait because I couldn't disrespect my uncle. 

I sat inside of my car and I saw my uncle's blue bag in the passenger seat next to his jacket.  Because my uncle Manuel had been acting different, like nervous, being in a hurry to get to Fort Lauderdale, I got curious and opened his blue bag.  I saw many bags inside of the blue bag and I touched one of them to inspect it.  I got very confused and put the bag back inside in the blue bag and I closed it like it had been before.  I didn't know what to think, many thoughts crossed my mind.

I got out of my car and went to sit on my car's hood to finish my soda.  It hadn't been more than five minutes since my uncle had left and I saw he was coming back; I approached him.  He thanked me for the favor, I opened the door, he took his blue bag and left his jacket, saying that he would pick it up later.  He left.

I decided to go back to Miami as we agreed, and when I was trying to go backward in my car, a Ford explorer blocked my way.  Some other cars arrived from everywhere.  I saw many people running towards my car aiming their guns at me.  At first, I thought the police was chasing a thief or a criminal but then I realized I was the center of attention; they were looking for me.

One of them kicked on my door and ordered me (yelling) to get out from my car.  I was frozen, stiff, in shock, so they grabbed me and threw me to the ground, cuffed me and kicked me; I didn't know what was going on.

They drove one block away, to Lester's dinner restaurant, and I saw my uncle Manuel in the parking lot with handcuffs; the blue bag he had was next to him, over a trunk of a car.  About fifteen minutes later, I saw them bringing Renzo, shoving and kicking him.  We were taken to an office not far from the restaurant; Renzo and I were pale and confused, not knowing what to do.

Detective Maria Polo told Renzo and I that people like Manuel Uribe used to use little kids to do his drug deals and that she knew that we had nothing to do in that case and told us not to worry.  She noted us desperate and scared and explained to us that my uncle Manuel and his brother in law, Carlos Ferreyros, had done a drug transaction with undercover agents; the police had already been behind them to do the arrest.  What the hell me and Renzo go to do with all of this?  We just were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Then they brought my uncle Manuel and left him close to us.  The detectives were back and forth.  My uncle noticed I was so nervous and disappointed towards him.  He started to mutter, "Don't think bad about me, nephew.  This is a problem I had with a friend that lives in Coconut Groove.  He offered me five hundred dollars to bring that package and this homosexual scrubbed me up." He continued talking and saying a lot of things but I wasn't paying attention; I was in the limbo.

Detective Maria Polo came back and took Renzo and I to another office.  We told her what my uncle told us and she made us write that in a piece of paper.  Then Detective Barnhouse took us to jail to wait there for the decision of the court.  They seized my car and never gave it back to me.  When they were taking our fingerprints and doing the paperwork in the county jail, my uncle told Renzo and me not to worry because they had no case.  My uncle, besides he was a policeman, he is a lawyer.  Renzo and I were transferred to stockade facility and my uncle to north Broward.  We had no contact.

Forty-two (42) days after this terrible incident, the deputies called Renzo.  It was the early morning of December 10, 1998.  They told him that his charges had been dropped and that he was going to be released.  What a happiness!  At the end, we were watching the true justice come.  Renzo was very happy.  He said goodbye with tears in his eyes and told me to keep my faith in God and that "very soon you would see the justice to come true."  After some days, he was released, he left, tired of that injustice he lived here, the country of the freedom.

My bond was $250,000, amount unreachable to me and my family.

~ * ~

Few days later I went to court with my lawyer, Mr. Bradley Goldbloom.  My family got a loan of $10,000 from an usurer person to pay my legal expenses.  The state wasn't ready yet and they asked for a postpone. Because it was December, they have many holidays and do not work regularly, so I had to spend Christmas in jail. 

After the holidays, my lawyer went to see me.  He told me not to worry because he was going to let me out because I had nothing to do in that case and the state didn't have evidence on me.  We went to court and asked for a bond reduction.  It was granted.  The judge reduced my bond to $25,000 per charge.  It was still a high amount for me. 

Later on, I went back to court because my lawyer asked for an Adversary hearing.  Mr. Goldbloom explained me that this hearing was going to be a confrontation, and because they couldn't prove nothing against me, the judge could let me go. 

My uncle's lawyer didn't show up and nothing happened in that hearing.  We asked the judge for another date to do the Adversary Hearing and my uncle's lawyer didn't show up once again. 

The Prosecutor, Mr. Edward Pyres approached us in the courtroom and said, "He has a minimum participation in this case," pointing at me.  "I'm just going to need him to testify."

"How much are you asking?" my lawyer questioned.
"I haven't thought yet, but it's going to be less than 5 years", the prosecutor remarked.
"Five years?" My lawyer smiled.
"But we could talk.  Like I said, I may need him to testify," the prosecutor remarked.
"Okay, Ed; I talk to you later," said my attorney.

Mr. Goldbloom explained me that the state had a lot of evidence against my uncle but nothing on me and that they needed my testimony.  "If you testify, you are going to get credit for that and you are going home. I believe they are going to give you probation; you don't have priors.  If everything goes wrong, they could give house arrest, I don't know, I'm not the judge, but I can see you are going to get probation."

On February 12^th, 1999, I was taken to an office in the court building.  They recorded a tape talking about a Substantial Assistance Agreement.  My lawyer explained me that they were the conditions of the agreement but that the only thing I had to do was testify.

"You only have to testify, that's it", explained my lawyer when we were leaving Mr. Gallagher's office in which they recorded the tape of the Substantial Assistance Agreement.  "The Prosecutor then is going to give the judge a good recommendation, low and appropriate for your sentence.  I, by my own, would tell the judge and would make him see that you have no record, and that you just drove your uncle and I am almost sure that he is going to send you home with probation."

"Bradley," I said, "but the prosecutor said that I have to plea guilty.  I didn't do nothing, just drove my uncle where he wanted to go."

"Look, Jose, I am going to put it like this," he told me.  "If we take your case to trial, even if you are guilty or not, you are going to have fifty-fifty.  That means win or lose.  Everything depends on the jury.  Why we have to take that risk?  Why we have to play with fifteen or thirty years in prison?  Besides, if we take it to trial, you have to stay in jail more than half of the year waiting your turn.  Think about it.  With this agreement I can let you out immediately on R.O.R. or I could get you a very low bond and you could wait outside.  There's no way to go to trial, Jose."

Bradley Goldbloom scared me with what he said and pushed me to take that Agreement.  "I think there is no other way to get out soon, right?" I told my lawyer.

"This is the bet way, Jose," he smiled; "This is how the system works, with agreements and negotiations with the state.  The trials are just a lucky game, it's only luck.  When they give you probation, you are going to do just half of the time and then we come to court and I ask the judge to cut if off; he will do it.  Who cares if you plea guilty and waive your rights?"

"I don't want to have a criminal record," I explained.

"That's nothing, Jose."  He got serious.  "Open your eyes and take out the bandage you have on.  Once you are on the street, behave yourself, stay out of trouble and we come to court and I clean your record.  I leave it like new."

"Besides that, Gallagher said that I have to obey the police and other things," I told Bradley.

"Jose, your only obligation with the state is to testify and just to testify," he emphasized.

Later on, my lawyer told me that the court was calling my friend Renzo Assante to show up because he was still charged.  According to the state, they say that Renzo was released erroneously.  How could Renzo show up in court if he was already out?  He got a warrant.  This is how the prosecution in this state works in a country that calls itself fair?  I release you today and tomorrow I lock you up for the same case because we always have to blame somebody to close the file...

My mother wasn't aware of what was happening with me and I didn't want to tell her nothing because of her health.  With the kind of news I could kill her, but because this is a family problem being it involved my uncle, my family found out and the gossip ran like gunpowder to my mom's ears.  Painful and unpleasant news for her.  Without the approval of her doctor, she packed her suitcases and came to United States to be next to me.  The meeting in the jail was very sad.

~ * ~

On March 2, 1999, I was taken to court to see my case and I had to plea guilty in front of the Judge V. Tobin to take that agreement with the Prosecutor. They explained to the judge that the state was doing a Substantial Assistance Agreement with me and the prosecutor pointed that the tape they recorded on February 12^th, 1999 was going to be the agreement.  He also said that I had to phone Detective Barnhouse five days a week to check in.  My lawyer told the judge that he wanted to put on the record that my obligation with the state would be just testify against my codefendants.  That would be my only obligation in the Substantial Assistance Agreement. 

The court set a pending sentence for 90 days, time in which I was going to render the assistance to the state of Florida.  The sentencing date was set for June 4^th, 1999 and lowered my bond to $5,000 per charge.  My lawyer made sure that even if I had to stay in jail if I couldn't afford my bond, I still was going to get the credit for my testimony.

On March 4^th, 1999, I got out of jail on bond;  Mr. Martin Meza, our friend, helped me with the collateral that the bond agency was asking.  I was at home again, after 126 days of nightmares lived in the county jail.  My mom went back to Peru to attend her affairs, but before she left, she reminded me we have a pending bill to pay ($10,000) with the lender that gave us the money for my legal expenses.

After I got out of jail on March 5^th, 1999, I went to see my attorney, Bradley Goldbloom, at 9o'clock in the morning.

"What's up, Jose?" he said.  "You look much better without the blue uniform."  Bradley smiled openly.  I told him that I needed the phone number of Detective Barnhouse to call him and check in;  he gave them to me.  He also dialed one of the numbers and gave the phone to talk to Barnhouse from his office.

When Detective Barnhouse answered the phone, I introduced myself and Detective Barnhouse told me to call back later, before 5pm, because he didn't know nothing about me and he was going to check with the prosecutor.  I phoned back about 4o'clock and he told me to call on Monday.

On Monday the 8^th, I called him on that morning and he told me to come up to see him.  I told him that I didn't have a car and that I couldn't go so fast and if the meeting could be in the afternoon.  He told me to call him the next day. 

I did it (March 9^th, 1999).  I phoned him in the morning about 9:30am.  He told me to go to Fort Lauderdale in one hour.  I explained him that I live in Miami and that I didn't have a car.  I would have to take two trains and asked him to meet with me 4o'clock.  He said, "It's your fucking problem if you don't have a car.  You have an agreement with us and don't forget that you plead guilty already.  Come to see me tomorrow morning at 9o'clock in Hooters Restaurant.  Take I-95 north to Cypress Creek exit.  Then go west a little bit and you are going to see the restaurant to your left.  It's two blocks before you get to Power Line."

I was surprised with that attitude.  He was a rude dude and ordinary.  Because of that, I phoned my lawyer and told him.  He told me to write in a notebook day by day everything that could happen between Detective Barnhouse and me, everything he say, everything.  He also told me that he was going to fax a letter to Edward Pyres (the Prosecutor) to inform him I was out of jail and ready to be debriefed, give my testimony written or recorded on tape.

On March 10^th, I went to Hooters Restaurant to meet Detective Barnhouse.  I arrived before 9o'clock and he did around 10o'clock.  He wasn't alone, he was with another detective.

He made me sign some papers that I couldn't read because he didn't let me.  Then he took a picture of me with his Polaroid camera.  "What information you have for me?" Detective Barnhouse asked me.

"About what?" I replied.  He got serious and told me that he wanted information about people that buys or sells drugs.  I got nervous and told him that in my complex there was a guy that sells marihuana in little bags.

"That's bullshit!!" he yelled.  He explained me that he was looking for people that sell pounds or kilos of marihuana, cocaine or heroin.  "Any kind of dope, but in big quantities."  For me it wasn't so easy like going to Publix and get a kilo of apples. 

He told me that the time was running and that if I didn't get any "traffic ants" for him, he was going to take me to prison because I had already plead guilty. 

Then he look at me, smiles and told me that he knew this problem have caused me a lot of expenses and that if I would like, I could do any small deal to get some money, but to leave the big cases for him.  "Let me know any deal you are going to do" he said.  "That way, if you get scrubbed by DEA agents, or Miami agents I would tell them that you are my boy and we are working on a case."

The Detective that was accompanying Barnhouse told me that he needed me to be infiltrated in a gang he was investigating.  I had no choice but to say, "Okay, I am going to do anything you asked me to do." 

Next day, I phoned Detective Barnhouse about 9o'clock to check in.  I stayed at home waiting for the call of that Detective that wanted to insert me in that gang.  He never phoned.

Friday, March 12^th, 1999, I phoned Barnhouse about 9o'clock to check in.  He told me to go to Hooters restaurant at 3pm.  I went there.  Detective Barnhouse was with the other Detective he was with two days before, that was working in that gang.  They asked some questions and saw that I am a nervous person (also cardiac, hypertension as my mother).  They told me to wait for their call.

Monday, March 15^th, I phoned Detective Barnhouse about 9 in the morning to check in.  He asked me if I had any case for him and I said no.  He told me not to play games with him because I had plead guilty.  He asked me where Renzo Assante was because he had a warrant for him.  I told him that I didn't know nothing about Renzo.

"It would be better to start recollecting because your life is on my hands," he threatened me.  "If I call the Prosecutor and tell him that you don't want to cooperate with us, he would send you to prison for 15 years and you are going to stay there until you turn 40."  He hung the phone up.  Nobody told me never that I was going to be threatened like this.

March 16^th, I phoned him about 9 in the morning to check in.  On the 17^th, I checked in about 9 in the morning.  He told me to call him later to see if he had a case for me.  I did it twice.  There was nothing for me.

On the 18^th, I phoned Barnhouse about 9o'clock.  He told me to call him back in a moment because he was going to talk to somebody to see a case for me.  I did it and nothing happened. 

On the 19^th, I phoned him about 9o'clock.  He told me to call him in the afternoon and I did it.  He told me to go to Hooters restaurant on Tuesday the 23rd.

On Monday 22^nd I called him to check in.  He wasn't there and I called to his cellular phone.  I reminded him of our appointment for the next day.  When the 23^rd came, I went to see him.  I missed the train and I arrived 9:20.  He was very mad at me because of the delay (20 minutes) and started to yell: "Let's go, I am going to take you to jail and you are going to stay there for 15 years!"  He grabbed me by my shoulders very hard.  I was so scared, at the point to cry for the powerlessness.  I had to do something.  "This is strike one," he kept yelling.  "Next shit you do, that means fifteen years in prison."  He left screaming.  "I see you tomorrow at noon."

Nobody told me never that I was going to be mistreated like that and that they were going to act in bad faith.

March 24^th, 1999, I phoned Barnhouse about 9o'clock and checked in.  I was there, in Fort Lauderdale at 11:40am and he arrived 12:50pm.

"Good afternoon," I greeted him.  "I thought that maybe you forgot our meeting."

"It's better to wait for me than waiting 15 years in prison," he said.  "I was going to meet here with some Detectives from Pompano Beach, but they couldn't come.  Call me tomorrow morning."  He left.

On March 25^th I phoned him about 9o'clock.  he told me to go to Hooters Restaurant at noon.  I arrived 11:40am and he at 12:30pm.  He was accompanied by two other Detectives from Pompano Beach.  Barnhouse introduced them to me.  They explained me that they had a case for me and told me to meet them the next day in the same place (Hooters) at the same time.

Friday, March 26^th 1999. I phoned Detective Barnhouse about 9o'clock and checked in.  I went to meet with the Detectives from Pompano Beach. 

They took me to a shopping center in which a black woman (confidential informer) was waiting for us.  They explained me that there was a black guy selling crack cocaine and that black girl was going to introduce me to him to buy an ounce of crack.  The Detectives were going to film the transaction and then they would arrest that guy. 

The black girl spoke to me and noticed that I was a very nervous person and told the Detectives that I couldn't do it.  She also told them that the guy selling crack didn't like to deal with white people nor latins, just with blacks. 

After that the Detectives thanked me for my good will to help them, bought a soda and a sandwich and then left me at tri-rail station to go back to Miami.  They also gave me 10 dollars to pay the train.  They never yelled at me nor threatened me; they were nice.

On Monday, March 29^th I phoned Detective Barnhouse and checked in about 9:30 in the morning.  He told me to meet him at Hooters. I arrived 11:40am and he did at 12:20pm.  He asked me what happened with the Detectives from Pompano Beach and I explained him what happened.  "Spic and nigger people is the same shit," he murmured.

He gave me a phone number of someone named Jim, because that dude has a case for me.  Undoubtedly, I would always be the dummy on the front line when everything goes wrong.  Barnhouse told me to do everything Jim wanted me to do because they were going to be in touch.

I called that Jim and he arranged to meet me in a place named Nick's auto sales.  It was a car dealer located at 3553 N. State Road 7 (441) in Hollywood, in front of the "Indian Gaming Casino."  I got to that place at 2:40pm and met with Jim, apparently a good man. 

He took me to a van that was on sale and told me get inside of it.  He was acting in front of everybody in that place like if I was a customer to prevent that another car seller would come.

"I have a top secret case for you," he said.  At the beginning I was scared but he told that it would be something easy and he was going to help me after all.  He explained there was a young dude named Mike Garcia interested in buying a kilo of cocaine. 

We phone Detective Barnhouse and told him about Mike Garcia and his intentions in buying a kilo of cocaine in $16,000.  "Ask him for $17,000," said Barnhouse.  "One thousand for me."  Jim said all right.

The strategy:  For Mike Garcia, I was going to be Jose, the nephew of a Panamanian trafficker called "Eguers".  We phoned Mike and Jim introduced us one to each other. The gang member told me (after I explained him I was Eguer's nephew and talked about the transaction) to wait a little bit because he had a lot of dope to sell in that moment.  After I hung up the phone with Mike, I spoke with Jim.  He asked me why I was helping the police and I told him all the story, how my uncle involved me in his case.  I also commented him that I was supposed to testify and that's it, and Jim told me he would talk to Detective Barnhouse on this matter.

Later on, Detective Barnhouse phoned me yelling, "Listen to me motherfucker!!!  You have to do what I tell you to do.  If you don't want, I take you to prison.  You are a piece of shit and you plead guilty already, son of a bitch.  You don't have to tell Jim what kind of agreement you have nor nothing.  You just do what I tell you to do." Then he slammed the phone down. 

That attitude transformed me.  He scared me and confused me.  When I went to take the pills for my hypertension and for the nerves (I was taking psychotropic medicine), I started to tremble and I put in mouth more than 25 pills.  My wife struggled with me and took away the bottle of pills from me. 

It wasn't me at that moment, it was like if somebody else was driving my body and thoughts.  I can't also remember how my wife did it to make me spit the pills.  She called Doctor Cuccirramos, my psychiatrist, and told him that I was trying to commit suicide.  The doctor came to see me and recommended to take me to the hospital (psychiatry) for a deeper evaluation, but I refused it.  I didn't want to wander around in front of many mental patients.

On Tuesday, March 30^th, I phoned Detective Barnhouse in the morning and check in.  He told to meet with him at Hooters restaurant and I did.  I arrived there before noon and Detective Barnhouse came about 20 minutes later.  We try to call Mike Garcia to record the conversation on a tape but Mike didn't answer the phone.

"It's your job to get in touch with that guy Mike," said Barnhouse.

"People like Mike use to sleep during the day because they are awake the night time," I explained.

"That's your problem asshole," he reproached me.  "Try to get in touch with that guy."

Wednesday, March 31^st, 1999, I phoned Detective Barnhouse and check in.  He told me to go to Hooters to meet with him.  When I was with him, we try to call Mike Garcia on the phone.  He didn't pick up the phone.  Barnhouse got hysterical at me. 

"Get out of my car!!" he yelled.  "Fucking kid.  Don't make me waste my time.  I don't like jokes!!!  It would be better to start taking care about this or I'm going to put your ass in prison and somebody is going to rape you there.  Call me later."

When I got home, I tried to call Mike Garcia but he didn't answer.  I phone Detective Barnhouse about 3o'clock in the afternoon and he told me to go to Hooters next day in the morning at 9o'clock.

Thursday, April 1^st, I went to Hooters restaurant at 8:40am.  When Detective Barnhouse arrived, we tried to phone Mike Garcia.  "We better try later because he may be sleeping," I said.  "Okay," he agreed.  "Keep calling him in that pay phone."  He pointed to a pay phone in the street.  "As soon as he answers the phone, tell him that you have been trying to reach him and that you are going to call him back in about 30 minutes because there are many people around you and you have no privacy to talk.  That way, you call me, I come as fast as I can, we call him and I record the conversation."

I stayed in that pay phone calling Mike and nothing.  To my good luck, and after trying an endless number of calls, Mike picked up the phone.  I told him I couldn't talk because I had a lot of people around me and I would call him back in a half of hour.  He agreed.  I called Barnhouse and he came to where I was.  We tried to call Mike from Detective Barnhouse's cellular phone but this time Mike did not answer the phone.

"Are you playing games with me, motherfucker?" screamed Detective Barnhouse.  "I'm going to send you to prison for 15 years, son of a bitch!!!  Get out of my car and have a fucking weekend!!!"  When I was getting out of his car, and I just had put one foot outside, the Detective step on the accelerator with half of my body still inside of his car.  I fell down spectacularly scratching my elbows and knees.  That stunned me and scared me.  I decided to go to see Jim and he told that everything was going to be alright and to leave it on his hands.  He was going to put more interest in the case.  He phoned Detective Barnhouse and informed him that I was with him and we were going to locate Mike Garcia.

April 2^nd, 1999, Good Friday.  I phone Detective Barnhouse about 9o'clock and check in.  Jim called me later on the phone.

"I have Mike Garcia online," he informed me.  Jim made the three-way call and I spoke with Mike about the transaction.  I asked him for $17,000 that Barnhouse told us to ask for the kilo of cocaine.  Mike told me to let him know when everything was ready for the deal.  Jim recorded the call and told me to go to pick up the tape.

"How did you record it?" I asked him.  "The Government has supplied me with some mechanism," bragged him.

On Monday April 5^th, I phone Detective Barnhouse at 9o'clock.  I told him I had a tape to give him.  He told he was going to be busy and to call at noon.  I did it.  He told me to go to Hooters as soon as I can and to call him from there.  I arrived there around three o'clock and called Barnhouse.  He was there fifteen minutes after I phoned him.  I gave him the tape and mentioned him that Jim recorded.

"Very good," Barnhouse smiled.  "Go and do anything Jim asks you to do."

Jim told me to meet with him in a town house located at Coconut Grove in Miami.  The house was empty and nobody was there.

"I'm going to help in everything," Jim reminded me when he arrived.  "While I get in touch with Mike, you start painting the walls of this house." 

After I started painting for a couple of hours, he asked me to buy a tape recorder (hand size) for which I paid $39.99+tax, and a microphone (tie size) for $19.99+tax.  Jim taught me to record a phone call.  Of course, nobody paid me back for the expenses. 

At nighttime around 11o'clock, I phoned Mike Garcia from my house and recorded the conversation.

On Tuesday, April 6^th, 1999, I phoned Detective Barnhouse 10o'clock and checked in.  I told him I had a tape with the conversation of the transaction I could do with Mike Garcia.  "Come to Hooters at noon," he ordered me.

When I met with him, I gave him the tape.  "Mike wants the cocaine right now," I explained Barnhouse.

"I can't do it today, we don't have people to do any arrest and I am tired."  He excused himself.

"But I made all the arrangements with Mike and you are aware of that," I said.

"Call him and tell him that you are not ready yet," he suggested.

He handed his cellular to me.  He got a tape recorder and a tie microphone from the trunk of his car and plugged them together.  He put the little microphone inside of my ear and told me to put the phone over the same ear, that way the conversation would be recorded.

This time Mike answered the phone very quick.  I told him that my supposed to be uncle Eguer was out of town and we had to wait a little bit.  Because Mike and I were speaking in Spanish and Detective Barnhouse couldn't understand nothing, he got upset and pulled the phone and microphone from my ear and put them in his ear and started to talk with Mike:  "I am Eguer's partner," said Barnhouse in English.  "I work at the port in an export and import company.  We haven't gotten the merchandise yet, that's why we can't do the delivery." Mike Garcia said to let him know when everything was ready. 

After that, I went to Jim's house at Coconut Grove to paint the walls.  Nobody told in court that I had to paint a Detective's house. 

On April 7^th, I phoned Detective Barnhouse in the morning and checked in. He told me to get in touch with Mike Garcia.  Mike didn't answer his phone.  I called Jim and he told me to go to Coconut Grove to paint his house. 

On April 8^th I phoned Barnhouse and checked in about 9o'clock in the morning.  I went to paint Jim's house.  That night I found out that my mother had had a relapse and was in the hospital.  The woman we owed money was calling everyday to collect her $10,000 she lent my mom for my legal expenses; she wanted her money and I don't blame her. 

Friday, April 9^th, I phoned Barnhouse and check in.  He told me to call Jim and do whatever Jim tells me to do.  Jim sent me to work to his house. 

"I spoke with Mike," Jim said.  "He doesn't want to do any deal with you because he didn't like the voice of who talked to him on the phone the last day he talked to you."

"It was Detective Barnhouse," I explained him.

"Don't worry, Jose, I'm gonna get a new case," Jim promised me.  He told me to paint the house on the weekend.

Monday, April 12^th I phoned Detective Barnhouse and checked in.  Detective Barnhouse told me to go with Jim.  I explained him that Jim had me painting his house and he laughed mocking.  I went to paint Jim's house.

On Tuesday April 13^th, I phoned Detective Barnhouse at 9o'clock and checked in.  After that, I went to work to Jime's house.

April 14^th, I phoned Barnhouse in the morning and checked in.  I told Barnhouse that Jim was going to try to convince Mike Garcia.  "It's your job to get me people," Barnhouse told me, "because you plead guilty already, and if you don't do it, I send you to prison for 15 years and your life is going to be destroyed."  I went to paint the yard of Jim's house.  Later on, Jim told me to forget Mike Garcia because he was scared and didn't want to do nothing.  He also told me he was looking for a new case.

On April 15^th and 16^th, I phoned Detective Barnhouse and check in.  I went to work to Jim's house.  I had to wait for the new case because according to Jim, the dude we were going to set up was in Colombia. 

On Monday April 19^th, I phoned Barnhouse and checked in.  A few minutes later I called him back to explain him that Jim had a new case but we had to wait.  He told to go with Jim.  I did and Jim sent me to paint his house.

On April 20^th, I phoned Detective Barnhouse about 9o'clock and checked in.  I went to work to Jim's house.

On April 21^st I called Barnhouse and after he answered the call fell through.  I phoned him again and checked in.  He told me to go with Jim and I did.  Of course, what Jim did ws send me to work on his house.

On April 22^nd, 1999, I phoned Detective Barnhouse in the morning and checked in.  When I was talking to him, he put me on hold.  I called him back.  Then I went with Jim and he told me to finish with his house.  he also told me to wait for the new case he had for me.

On the 23^rd I phoned Barnhouse and checked in.  Barnhouse told me to meet with him at Hooters restaurant on Monday.  Then, I went with Jim.  His house was already done.

On Monday the 26^th, I met with Detective Barnhouse at Hooters restaurant.  He asked me about the new case Jim had and I told him we had to wait according to him.  He suggested me to call Jim and then to call him to let him know what was going on.  I phoned Jim but he wasn't there, so I called Barnhouse at noon to his cell phone to inform him I couldn't get Jim.  He told me to meet with him the next day at Hooters to try to find Jim to see what's that case we had.

I phoned my mom in Peru and she told she wasn't doing all right, she had a relapse.  My cousin Manuel went to see me because he said he found out about my mom's relapse.

On the 27^th I met with Barnhouse.  We called Jim but it was impossible to get him.  Barnhouse got mad at me and told me it was my job to find Jim for that case.  Later on, I spoke with Jim and he told me to wait a couple of weeks because the dude was still out of the country.  By the night, I phoned my mom's house in Peru and my brother told me that the lender was calling daily to collect her money and that was mortifying her.  My cousin Manuel (Manuel Uribe Junior) went to see me again:  "Why don't you go to see your mom?" he suggested me.  "Her illness is something serious."

I told him I didn't know what to do.  I was so confused and I had no money to go to Peru.

On April 28^th, 1999, I phoned Detective Barnhouse and checked in.  I told him we had to wait for Jim's case.  He said okay and to keep in touch with Jim.  I took all my credit cards and I got about $8,000 (eight thousand) dollars to pay the lender.  I went to Western Union to try to send the money to Peru but they were charging a lot, so I decided to find another courier agency.  My cousin Manuel went to see me again that day and I commented him that I wanted to send that money to cover the debt I had in Peru, but they were charging a lot for the services to send it.

"It is cheaper if you take that money with you to Peru," my cousin said.  "You would save half of the price as well you would be with your mom for a few days," he advised me.

"Yes, you're right," I admitted.  My cousin was like nervous for something, like if something was bothering him.  He was biting his nails and sometimes his face turned red like a shrimp.  "I have a brilliant idea you're going to like," he said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'll be back later," he communicated me and left, leaving me in suspense.  After a couple of hours, he came back to my house.  "Ready?" he said.

"What?" I questioned.

"A friend of mine is going to give away a free ticket to Lima, only for one way because he has already used the Lima/Miami," my cousin announced.

"How?" I asked.

"You are silly, aren't you?" he smiled. "Many people that come from Lima decide to stay in United States to work.  For that, they lose their return ticket because they don't use it.  But, because we, the Peruvian people, are very smart, then that ticket to go back to Lima, we sell it cheap to get some money.  This friend I am talking about is going to give away his ticket because he is going to stay in Miami, and because I am not going to use it, I am giving it to you."

"But that ticket is under somebody's name," I said.  "How can I use it?"

"You see why I said you are very silly?" he mocked about my ingeniousness.  "There are two things we can do; The first would be to look for a contact in the airline to change the names."

"Impossible," I replied.  "I know nobody."

"Me either.  The second, and what everybody does, is to go through the Peruvian consulate."

"How?" I asked.

"You take the ticket, then go to the Peruvian Consulate and say to the people that work there that you have lost your passport and you need to travel to Peru," my cousin explained.  "They are going to tell you to pay 20 dollars and they give a piece of paper that explains you have no documents and that your name is the same one that the ticket says.  They attach your picture, you show it to the airline and they let you on board the plane without any problem."

"Are you sure?"

"Man, I have done that before, years ago," he said.

"And they don't say nothing at the consulate?"

"Nothing.  Neither at the airport of Lima.  Sometimes they try to intimidate you a little bit right there in Peru but you know how they are at the airport in Lima, so have ready a 10 dollar bill to shut their mouth if they say anything.  Anyway the friend that is giving me the ticket is going to give me a copy of his birth certificate to be shown at the consulate just in case."

The idea was tempting: to be with my mom and my family for a few days.  And Mother's Day was close.  "Cheer up, that way you can take that money to take out a worry from your mom," my cousin said.

On Thursday, April 29^th 1999 I phoned Barnhouse and check in.  I didn't call Jim because he had told me to wait.  My cousin Manuel went to my house with the ticket.  I called my family in Peru and asked them to reserve and buy a one way ticket Lima/Miami under my name because I was on the way to spend Mother's day in Lima.  The temptation and the push from my cousin beat me up, as well the desire to distress myself a little bit.

I went with my cousin to the Peruvian consulate and got that paper.  It was easy, just like my cousin said.  He paid with his money the 20 dollars they charge.  "If you do a favor, do it complete," he said when he paid the 20 dollars.

By itself, I already had the ticket (dated for May 3^rd 1999) and the paper from the Peruvian consulate to help me to board the plane.  I told my cousin I was going to send my passport to Lima by a courier agency, that way, as soon as I got there, I would pick my passport up to come back to the United States without any problem. 

That night my cousin went back to my house to tell me that I didn't have to send my passport by a courier agency because he had a friend that was traveling to Lima, Peru and he could bear my passport with him, that way I could also save some money the courier agency charges.  "Really?"  He surprised me.

"Of course, I have to be resolving everything for you," he smiled.  "I am like your Angel."

I gave my passport to my cousin to be given to his friend.  When he left my house, I phoned my family in Peru.  They communicated me that everything was okay concerning my trip to return from Lima to Miami.  The date I was going to travel from Lima to Miami was set for May 10^th 1999 and the price $389.  Even though, it was cheaper than Western Union.

On Friday April 30^th I checked in with Barnhouse about 9o'clock.  He knew I had nothing for him and that we had to wait at least 10 days to know what was going on with the new case Jim had.  I didn't want to tell Detective Barnhouse about my trip to Peru because he was so hysterical and used to yell at anything.  I called Jim and he told me to relax; we couldn't do nothing until the target arrives to U.S.A.  For me it was great because I was going to be absent for some days.

My wife and I agreed that the time I was going to be in Peru (one week) she was going to call me on the phone, then make a three way call with Barnhouse and I would check in.  My cousin went to my house and told me my passport was in his friend's hands who was going to bear it to Lima.  His friend's name was Jorge Miranda.

Saturday, May 1^st 1999, I didn't have to call Barnhouse.  My cousin went to see me.  He was nervous.  "How you doing?" he asked me.

"Nervous," I replied.

"Be happy because you gonna have a great time at Lima."  He smiled with difficulties.  "I would like to be in your skin to go to Lima for some days."

I never imagined what my cousin was doing.  He had been in touch with Detective Barnhouse to try to get credits on behalf for his father (my uncle Manuel) that was locked up.  My cousin told Detective Barnhouse I wanted to flee the country because I didn't want to show up in court on my sentence day.  All was manipulated by my uncle Manuel.  His son was just a puppet doing what his father would say (a very intelligent person: Commander of the police forces, Chief of the Unit of Narcotics, Republic President's escort, Investigator from the Service of Intelligence of Peru.  He is also a lawyer).

My cousin told Barnhouse, to give him a little bit of credibility, to search Jorge Miranda that was traveling to Peru.  My cousin knew the time and the airline his friend Jorge Miranda was using.  Detective Barnhouse notified Miami International Airport and some detectives, with the pretext there was a bomb threat, they searched only Jorge Miranda and they found in his coat my passport. 

To do it more believable and with no doubts, Manuel Uribe Junior told Detective Barnhouse my plan was to travel using a faked name to evade the police.  He gave Barnhouse the name of the ticket, the airline, date, time, all because he knew it very good because he gave me that ticket.

They confiscated my passport from Mr. Jorge Miranda telling him it was forbidden to bear someone else's documents and then they let him travel to Peru.

On Sunday May 2^nd, my cousin went to see me.  He had a six-pack of beers.  Actually, he wanted to make sure everything was okay for my trip (or for the trip he was setting).  My mom had been hospitalized for emergency the day before and the hospital was studying the way to insert her a pace-maker or to make a bypass.

Monday, May 3^rd, 1999, Fateful Day.  I went with my wife to buy some personal items I was going to need for my trip.  I phoned Detective Barnhouse from a pay phone and checked in about 9o'clock.  I told him we had to wait like a week for Jim's case.  Later on about noon my cousin called on the phone.  "What's up, cousin?" he asked.

"Hi" I replied.  "I'm going to your house later, okay?" he communicated me.

"Are you drunk or what?" I asked.

"Why?"

"5o'clock in the afternoon I'm going to be traveling."

"Ah, you're right, I am so silly.  I had forgotten about it," he said. "Well...Good luck...and have a nice trip."

"Thank you."

Actually the silly was me, falling in his game and being unaware of his intentions.  Everyting was so strange in him, but I couldn't distrust him, he was my cousin; I could never think that way.

When I boarded the plane, I saw Detective Barnhouse sitting on my seat with a big smile on his face, triumphant with an intolerant crop.  "Where are you going?" he asked me mocking.  "I told you more than once that people like you are pieces of shit.  now I am sending you to prison for fifteen years or maybe more."  He showed me my passport. "Ah, I got this from Mr. Miranda."

With shoves and kicks, I was pulled out of the plane, in front of everybody.  They searched my luggage without missing any corner.  Detective Barnhouse had told the police in Miami, in his report, that I was about to flee with three kilos of cocaine, big lie.  Who would take drugs from USA to Peru?  Has no sense.

Detective Barnhouse wanted to seize the 8,000 dollars I had, but the detectives from Miami didn't let him, saying that they were going to put that money on inventory because they didn't have evidence that the money came from drugs.

Later on my lawyer picked the money up.  I was transferred to Miami-Dade county jail, to the psychiatric unit because of the conditions I was. 

Detective Barnhouse, accompanied by two other Detectives, went to my house to threaten my wife.  They searched my apartment with dogs and Barnhouse told my wife he wanted people selling or buying drugs or he was going to lock me up for a long time.

From that cruel and coward form, my uncle Manuel got credits with the Prosecution.  He made a substantial Assistance Agreement.  My uncle would promise them potential cases for them and they reduced his bond and he got out of jail to work with the police.  A short time later, my uncle fled the country, mocking the American Justice, the Prosecutor and Detective Barnhouse. 

Carlos Ferreyros, my uncle's brother in law, was arrested on January 5th 1999.  He went to trial and got his freedom where the court acquitted his case. 

Jose "Nico" Diaz  and Alicia "Karla" Portugal  got credits with my uncle's case and got probation.  True trafficants out on the street, playing basketball with the Justice.

Detective Barnhouse testified against me, saying that I violated the agreement trying to flee the country.  He also lied saying I failed in calling him to check in (my phone bill reflects his lie).  He also said I had no willing to do nothing for the police and that he never mistreated me.  Because I plead guilty to take that agreement, and because my lawyer told me it was the best way, I was sentenced to 15 years in prison and to pay a fee of %250,000.  This unfair sentence broke Salinas down and he lost 95 pounds of weight.  The court didn't let me withdraw my plea.

The true and real fact shows how worthy is in this coutry the power of the moeny and the astuteness of many people to evade the Justice.  In the world, people talks about freedom and equality, vocabularies everybody uses but nobody believe, although it is wrong to confess it.  The freedom is impossible without the equality, and the equality doesn't exist nor in the ethic nor in the biology...

Why an innocent person has to pay for a crime he didn't commit?

This is the story of my life.  Judge yourself.

Sincerely
Jose Salinas
L30111   A2105-L
Santa Rosa Correctional Institution
5850 East Milton Road
Milton, Florida  32583

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NOTE:  Renzo Assante was brought to Broward County for this case.  he was given a slap on his wrist and got probation and he is not going to have a criminal record.

A new motion has been filed in the Court on behalf of Jose Salinas, and this cause has been appointed to a new Judge, Honorable Judge Michael Gates, to be reviewed.

UPDATE:  July 17, 2005:

Jose Salinas is still in prison.

DC Number:  L30111 Name:  SALINAS, JOSE Race:  HISPANIC Sex:  MALE Hair Color:  BROWN Eye Color:  BROWN Height:  5'10'' Weight:  175 lbs. Birth Date:  07/26/1972 Initial Receipt Date:  08/03/2000 Current Facility:  GLADES C. I. Current Classification Status:  NOT APPLICABLE Current Custody:  CLOSE Current Release Date:  06/01/2012

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SANTA ROSA CI

Innocence in Florida Prisons

MTWT Prison Index