| Jeff Poulter & Graham Tillotson: 6th October 2004 |
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La Paz - Day 2
Our room phone rang at 8.00 o'clock. It was reception saying that a policeman was downstairs and wanted to talk to me. Rather confused, as we were due at the station at 9.00, I went down and he was on the phone to Carmen at her home trying to persuade her to come to the hotel to translate as no-one in the Bolivian police force speaks English. He was middle aged, portly, sporting a leather blouson jacket and wrap-round shades and he explained that he wanted to interview us before we left. Too bleary to argue I suggested we needed an hour to get our ducks in a row, so I roused the others for breakfast.
Police - Actions stations now !
At nine the three of us returned to the hotel to find five policemen awaiting
us. Sunglasses had been joined by an even tubbier chap with a video camera,
and three younger plains clothes chaps gripping voice recorders and notebooks.
As Carmen arrived so did a sixth policemen. We wondered what had happened
last night to jerk so many thumbs out of bums and minds out of neutral.
We had the undivided attention of a significant proportion of Bolivia's
police resource.
Ten of us then sat around a table and Sunglasses asked me to tell the story while Carmen translated and plod No 4 wrote it down longhand in another large, lined ledger. None of this had happened yesterday when the crooks were freshly hightailing it over the landscape leaving a BO trail. But irony doesn't work here.
Bandit Leader - Now we see his photo !
As we pieced together the details, Sunglasses got all steamed up and went to the corner of the room to make a call on his mobile. Ten minutes later number seven walked in. This was clearly senior plod: early forties, dressed in a four-buttoned suit, a tie, and rimless specs. The other six demurred. Rimless then opened a book he was carrying and showed us some photos. Immediately we all recognised the leader of the gang which robbed us. Even though he was hooded his cheekbones and eyes were most distinctive, as was his diminutive stature. The photos showed a re-construction of a hold up virtually identical to the one we had just lived through for which the bloke, a Peruvian, had been caught and sent to jail. They got even more excited and asked us to accompany them to the police intelligence headquarters to look at more pics.
We identified the leader again from another pair of pictures pasted onto the top of a page of the now-familiar police lined ledger. Gareth was sharp enough to spot that the book appeared to have consecutive Monday dates with a signature alongside each and he, rightly as it turned out, suggested it was a parole record book. So, chief armed robber signed in for parole on Monday morning, robbed us on Tuesday morning, and was probably in Peru having a much-needed bath by Tuesday afternoon.
Good old French's to the rescue !
At midday we emerged into the sun chatting about what had happened. Why the change of attitude on behalf of the police? Then it dawned on us that the only thing that had changed had been the involvement of the French Embassy. This was confirmed later that day as we sat down to tea with the British Consul who, when exposed to our theory, admitted that the French had a criminal liaison officer. We Brits don't have one of those, he miffed.
To be fair to him, Mr Christopher Poole saw us without an appointment and made all the reassuring noises one would expect from a diplomat, although he did over-egg a nidge when he said that they wouldn't really have shot us as they tend not to shoot tourists here. Oh, well, that's alright then.
Now we are famous on TV !
The banditry made the 8.00 national TV news and ran all the following day on radio. We had agreed the previous evening that we would each contact our own embassies and complain about the indifference of the police. When one of the Dutch guys, Avert-Jan, went to his embassy he was treated with the usual disdain reserved for backpackers until they realised he was a VIP. Whisked into the consul's office, he was assured that Holland, as current presidents of the EU, would be coordinating all the embassies of the victims in a joint representation to the Bolivian Foreign Minister. We are famous.
Gareth - What a great idea !
That evening the survivors met again for more beer and food when Gareth offered to email everyone his pictures of the scenery from the top of mount Chacaltaya, since we had all lost our cameras. Eh? How come? Apparently, when the gunmen had rushed the bus, Gareth removed the SD memory card from his camera and slipped it into his pocket. That's my boy! Now, if only he had filmed the robbery...
Jeff 06.10.04 |
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