An Absence of Light

“But for you, of course, the primary concern is Colombia,” Kalatis said, his voice resonant and rich. “There is a kind of aristocracy of wealthy families there, old families of four and five generations, who have weathered every tumultuous surprise that that exotic society has produced. Wars. Rebellions. Terrorists. Foreign occupation. Coups. And finally democracy and capitalism. Everything. The men of these families are always there to wave good-bye to every passing event, always there to greet the coming of the next one. They are known as ‘los hombres de siempre.’ The men of always. These are the men who are responsible for Colombia being the only Latin American country that makes its debt payments promptly every single year. They are the reason its economic growth rate purrs along smoothly at four percent They are the reason Colombia has a solid, educated, and growing middle class, the best universities in Latin America, and the oldest constitution in Latin America-which has just been revised, incidentally, and is a model of progressive politics.”

Kalatis waved his cigar languidly. “The thing is, despite all that happens there, the place still works and it works well. There is a reason. ‘Los hombres de siempre.’

“Now that the narcotics trade has proved its stability over several decades, now that it is easily into the tens of billions of dollars per annum without fluctuating or being appreciably affected by law enforcement or the vagaries of the world economy, these cautious men have gradually inserted themselves into the picture. Escobar, Ochoa, Gacha, men of that kind were the roughnecks, the pioneers, the cowboys. They were neither educated nor sophisticated. They were unpredictable. They had the mentality of street fighters even though they were dealing in billions. They were necessary, of course, every frontier must have its pioneers, but the ‘drug culture’ is no longer a new phenomenon, no longer a frontier. It is an established way of life now, all over the world, and as always happens when something new becomes an established part of society, the torch is passed from the pioneers to the settlers, to the men of commerce and politics. Change is inevitable, and the time for a more mature perspective in this business is long overdue… and now it’s here.”

He sipped the rum. He pulled a couple of times on the Cohiba. He let the fragrance and the taste of each meld together.

“I have been working with these people for four years. Never a single problem. They are businessmen, and they know that chaos costs money. Order and efficiency make money. And they know that publicity is for movie stars and fools, not businessmen. Before long-they are deliberate men, almost Oriental in their perspective on time-they will be all there is of the cartels. Anyone who wants the southern spice… will have to buy it from the men of always.”

“Then it’s agreed,” Kalatis said softly. There were only the two of them on the veranda, and they had finished their last Cuba Libre. Each was leaning his elbows on the wicker table between them, and they were talking softly, casually, almost in a tone of indifference. “Five million.”

“Cash.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” He nodded meditatively. “You have this maturing from…”

“Everything, T-bills, triple A bonds, CD’s… stock. That’s flexible, the amount from the stocks, I mean.”

“But you’ll have five million? I’ll need to know the exact amount.”

“Yes. Five even.”

“From four or five different banks at least. In several different states. That’s important.”

“It’s been arranged.”

“Two days from now.”

The man nodded, and swallowed. Kalatis knew how he felt. He knew these guys. Men too much in a hurry, too much in love with the way it worked in the eighties to wait for the nineties to pay off. He was making a fortune off the impatience of men like this. Even so, even the real pirates among them got cottonmouth from giving away five million in cash. No collateral, no contracts, no handshakes. But Kalatis had never failed one of them, and that was why they kept coming, this one for the first time.

“And this is part of a ‘mutual fund,’ “the guest said, wanting Kalatis to reassure him one more time.

“Oh yes.” Kalatis nodded readily. “This is one package-all Houston investors. Thirty-two million dollars. Your friend who recommended me to you is in for eight million. But you know that There are two others. Yours is the smallest portion. All of the others have invested with me before. You understand I cannot provide their names. Many of our investors know each other because they have recommended one another. But some wish to remain unknown. You are the only newcomer in this particular program.”

The guest nodded.