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treasure. He’d lay down on his bunk and let his imagination take flight as he tuned in to foreign broadcasts, dreaming of the day he could meet the new world, both more advanced and tranquil than the one he’d known up till then.

Miguel Rodríguez eventually got used to the ward. He’d help out the guys in little ways, giving them telephone cards, tennis shoes, or sweatshirts. On visitation days, he’d provide two buses to transport their family to come and see them. He won the loyalty and respect of the ward’s tough inmates, who in turn learned to live with the chief of the Cali cartel.

He opened the provisions store for them. When violent disputes broke out between them, old Miguel would make the guards take them to another ward. He was also fanatical about cleanliness, almost making himself sick over prison tidiness. Of the four bathrooms in the ward, Don Miguel set one of them aside for his exclusive use,

I wanted to see into the mind of the man who planned and participated in the most horrible homicides that the cartel had carried out in their war against the state.

He was known for his quick wit.