Bowden - Killing Pablo

KILLING PABLO

MARK BOWDEN is the bestselling author of Black Hawk Down, which was made into a successful film by Ridley Scott, Finders Keepers, Road Work and Guests of the Ayatollah. He is a national correspondent for Atlantic Monthly.

Pablo Escobar was a bona fide James Bond villain. Mark Bowden's thrilling, completely engrossing book brings the man and his bloody times to vivid life. I couldn't put it down.' Howard Marks

A brilliant reconstruction of a manhunt Clear and gripping.' Evening Standard

Vivid, fast-paced and well researched.' Sunday Times

A master of narrative journalism Gripping reading.' New York Times

Impressive.' Washington Post

Compelling.' LA Times

Killing Pablo reads like a Clancy-esque thriller; it's fast-paced, full of page-turning intrigue, corruption and thwarted pursuit.' San Francisco Chronicle

The season's best thriller.' Entertainment Weekly

Unputdownable readingremarkable.' Crime Time

This is investigative journalism at its best.' Philadelphia Inquirer

A cracking read.' Sunday Tribune

Also by Mark Bowden

Black Hawk Down

Finders Keepers

Road Work

Guests of the Ayatollah

KILLING PABLO

THE HUNT FOR THE RICHEST, MOST POWERFUL CRIMINAL IN HISTORY

MARK BOWDEN

Atlantic Books

LONDON

First published in the United States in 2001 by Atlantic Monthly Press, an imprint of
Grove Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003.

First published in hardback in Great Britain in 2001 by Atlantic Books,
an imprint of Grove Atlantic, Inc.

First published in paperback in Great Britain in 2002 by Atlantic Books.
Reprinted 14 times.

This rejacketed paperback edition published in Great Britain by
Atlantic Books in 2007.

Copyright Mark Bowden 2001

The moral right of Mark Bowden to be identified as the author of this work has been
asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the
above publisher of this book.

5 7 9 8 6

Picture credits: Insert page 1: Pablo as he appeared in 1983 (Reuters NewMedia Inc./
CORBIS). Insert page 2: Map of Colombia (The Philadelphia Inquirer); Map of Medelln
(The Philadelphia Inquirer). Insert page 3: Pablo and his wife Maria Victoria in 1983
(Reuters NewMedia Inc./CORBIS); Pablo embraces his wife, Maria Victoria, and his
daughter, Manuela (RCN). Insert page 4: President Bush with Colombian president Virgilio
Barco (AP/World Wide Photos); Morris D.Busby (The Philadelphia Inquirer); Luis Galn
(AP/World Wide Photos); Colombian president Csar Gaviria (The Philadelphia Inquirer).
Insert page 5: A dinner party in the mid-1980s (Mark Bowden); Fernando Galeano
(AP/World Wide Photos); A view from the comfortable living room of Pablo's suite at La
Catedral prison (Mark Bowden); DEA agents Steve Murphy and Javier Pea (Mark
Bowden). Insert page 6: Agent Joe Toft (Tim Dunn, freelance photographer); Jos
Rodriguez-Gacha (El Espectador); Colonel Hugo Martinez (The Philadelphia Inquirer);
Eduardo Mendoza (AP/World Wide Photos). Insert page 7: An exhibit at the Polica
Nacional de Colombia's Museum (The Philadelphia Inquirer); The third page of a
handwritten letter (Mark Bowden); The Colombian government and U.S. Embassy printed
thousands of posters and handbills (RCN); A victim of Los Pepes (RCN). Insert page 8:
Members of Colonel Martinez's Search Bloc (Mark Bowden); Pablo's grave in Medelln
(The Philadelphia Inquirer).

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

978 1 84354 651 1

Printed in the UK by CPI Bookmarque, Croydon, CR0 4TD

Atlantic Books
An imprint of Grove Atlantic Ltd
Ormond House
2627 Boswell Street
London WC1N 3JZ

For Rosey and Zook

December 2, 1993

On the day that Pablo Escobar was killed, his mother, Hermilda, came to the place on foot. She had been ill earlier that day and was visiting a medical clinic when she heard the news. She fainted.

When she revived she came straight to Los Olivos, the neighborhood in south-central Medelln where the reporters on television and radio were saying it had happened. Crowds blocked the streets, so she had to stop the car and walk. Hermilda was stooped and walked stiffly, taking short steps, a tough old woman with gray hair and a bony, concave face and wide glasses that sat slightly askew on her long, straight nose, the same nose as her son's. She wore a dress with a pale floral print, and even taking short steps she walked too fast for her daughter, who was fat. The younger woman struggled to keep pace.

Los Olivos consisted of blocks of irregular two- and three-story row houses with tiny yards and gardens in front, many with squat palm trees that barely reached the roofline. The crowds were held back by police at barricades. Some residents had climbed out on roofs for a better look. There were those who said it was definitely Don Pablo who had been killed and others who said no, the police had shot a man but it was not him, that he had escaped again. Many preferred to believe he had gotten away. Medelln was Pablo's home. It was here he had made his billions and where his money had built big office buildings and apartment complexes, discos and restaurants, and it was here he had created housing for the poor, for people who had squatted in shacks of cardboard and plastic and tin and picked at refuse in the city's garbage heaps with kerchiefs tied across their faces against the stench, looking for anything that could be cleaned up and sold. It was here he had built soccer fields with lights so workers could play at night, and where he had come out to ribbon cuttings and sometimes played in the games himself, already a legend, a chubby man with a mustache and a wide second chin who, everyone agreed, was still pretty fast on his feet. It was here that many believed the police would never catch him, could not catch him, even with their death squads and all their gringo dollars and spy planes and who knew what all else. It was here Pablo had hidden for sixteen months while they searched. He had moved from hideout to hideout among people who, if they recognized him, would never give him up, because it was a place where there were pictures of him in gilded frames on the walls, where prayers were said for him to have a long life and many children, and where (he also knew) those who did not pray for him feared him.

The old lady moved forward purposefully until she and her daughter were stopped by stern men in green uniforms.

"We are family. This is the mother of Pablo Escobar," the daughter explained.

The officers were unmoved.

"Don't you all have mothers?" Hermilda asked.

When word was passed up the ranks that Pablo Escobar's mother and sister had come, they were allowed to pass. With an escort they moved through the flanks of parked cars to where the lights of the ambulances and police vehicles flashed. Television cameras caught them as they approached, and a murmur went through the crowd.