Free The Last Undercover by Bob Hamer

on” the heroin many times by “cutting” it with substances like sugar or quinine. He could then sell the diluted mixture at a very sizeable profit.
    On March 28, 1984, I had a second meeting with Robert in which I paid him the additional four thousand dollars. Robert spoke broken English with a strong accent, and it was often difficult for me to understand him. I knew a jury might have just as much difficulty discerning his admissions. As we sat down that afternoon at an outdoor café, I stood up and, feigning embarrassment, asked Robert to trade seats with me. I told him I “blew out an eardrum doing a fire gag” and was deaf in one ear. I re-seated us so he could speak directly into my “good ear.” The ploy worked and allowed me to ask him to repeat his criminal admissions.
    Robert was doing his best to improve his lot as well as that of the Mexican Mafia. He wanted to upgrade its image—less gangbanger more businessman. He envisioned La Eme to be the equivalent of the traditional Mafia, not the Crips or Bloods. His personal heroin trafficking clientele included doctors and lawyers. Unlike some criminals I targeted, I could take Robert out in public.
    In a subsequent meeting at the Sheraton Grande, in downtown Los Angeles, Robert and I negotiated for a larger purchase. I asked a female agent to cover the meeting from inside the upscale hotel restaurant. My security inside the popular restaurant wasn’t a real issue but additional eyes could corroborate that Robert and I did meet. I had my back to the main dining room. Robert sat against the wall and was able to see all the customers and their activities. The meeting progressed without a hitch. He made valuable admissions, including a discussion about the cost of a multiple-ounce purchase. As we lingered, Robert shocked me when he said to a patron, “Good-bye.” I turned in time to see my female surveillance agent get up from the table and leave.
    “What was that all about?” I asked him.
    “I don’t know, but that chica kept watching me the whole time she ate.”
    I quickly responded that I had recently worked with Erik Estrada, who played Ponch on the TV show
CHiPs
, and that Robert looked so much like him she probably thought he was Estrada. He bought the quick recovery, but afterward I reminded my colleague that subtlety was crucial while on surveillance.
    Less than a week later, Robert called me, asking how many ounces of heroin I wanted to order. I ordered four and awaited delivery, which he informed me would take about a week. For the quality of heroin he was providing, a week’s delay was not unusual.
    On April 12, 1984, Robert and I agreed to meet at an upscale hotel near the University of Southern California campus. By this time, thanks to intelligence from a friend in the sheriff’s department, we had identified the person we believed to be Robert’s source for the heroin: Rick, a San Fernando Valley bondsman who often posted bail for local mobsters, Hells Angels, and members of the Mexican Mafia. Because of his association with those in the criminal element, I had spoken to Rick several times in my capacity as an FBI agent. We knew each other on sight. In the grand scheme of things, Robert was the bigger target—much more important than his supplier. Since I knew Rick, I had no intention or desire to see him as Robert and I concluded our transaction. So, in keeping with typical drug dealer protocol, I told Robert, “I don’t want to see any new faces,” and if I did, I’d call off the deal. He said he understood.
    Once Robert delivered the heroin, a team of FBI agents was prepared to take him into custody. His arrest would be a major blow to the Mexican Mafia and a tremendous victory for Los Angeles–area law enforcement.
    I sat in the lobby of the hotel, dressed casually. I had a Pittsburgh Pirates cap in my back pocket. In the early eighties, the Pirates had one of the ugliest caps in baseball and, in a town of die-hard Dodger fans,