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THE VELASCOS

Obviously, the inmates in San Pedro knew to be wary. There were even rumours of a counterfeiting press inside the prison. I doubt that this was true, but it made everyone more suspicious. There was a shortage of coins in Bolivia, which meant that people were always running about looking for someone to break up larger bills. But many of the shopkeepers refused to change them because they were worried about fakes.

Although it was impossible to get fakes past the suspicious eyes of the inmates, San Pedro was still the ideal distribution centre. Trading in counterfeits seemed to go hand in hand with all the other types of illegal activity already going on, and there was always someone down on their luck who was willing to have a go at passing off a few fakes. Inmates would send their friends and wives out with loads of notes, either to sell them on or to try their luck themselves. They were hard to get rid of, but it was worth a shot – if you pulled it off, it was money for free.

It worked well enough for the Velascos until Angela, the son's new wife, got busted by the lieutenant. One visitors' day, he pulled her aside for a search at the gate on the way out and went straight for her wallet, which was filled with fakes. She was then held in the prison office for questioning. The lieutenant needed fifteen hundred dollars to make the problem disappear.

'You have to help my son, Thomas,' Jose Luis begged me. 'Please. For the family.'

'Hey man, I've got nothing.'
No one ever said 'no' directly when asked to lend money. That would have been considered rude. You simply had to say you didn't have anything, even if you did. The trouble was that when you genuinely had nothing, no one ever believed you.

'I would if I could, believe me. But I have no money. Honestly. Everyone owes me from the shop.' And on this occasion, I wasn't lying. Apart from two hundred dollars that I needed myself, I had nothing.

'But we'll pay you interest. However much you want. You just say the amount.'

'But I don't have money. Nada. I'm sorry. I can't help. Honestly.'
I wanted to help Angela, but I wasn't prepared to mortgage my properties in order to do so; they were everything I owned in the world. It was clear, however, that Jose Luis still didn't believe me. He