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=> ...sweet, sweet justice....

Posted by Dr Pancho (Guest) - Wednesday, March 8 2006, 23:46:35 (CET)
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For a time after agreeing to work with US Marshalls to catch that skunk, Chance Reynolds, I had second doubts. After all the guy had two daughters to care for. Had he gone straight, even after escaping prison in America, I would never have turned him in. But, I saw him ripping other people off after I was wise to him...I just couldn't justify not putting the bastard away...he was asking for it if anyone ever was.

And then he attacked me on horseback and tried to trample me with his horse...after that...and after running his ass over with my truck, I figured he'd crossed a serious line...and I had no more qualms about it.

But, as I say, for a week or so I was bothered by what I was doing and thought to at least warn the gringos who were the next ones to believe in his fantastic bullshit, so maybe they'd refuse to help him further and he'd be forced to move away. I went to the ranch of one of them, where Chance and Celina were visiting for the day, and stood outside the gate waving a print- out of an email from the American Marshall I first dealt with....his nickname was Chilo. I waved the letter and yelled to the four or five gringos standing outside the door of the house that they should at least read the email to judge for themselves...they scoffed and laughed at the silly name I'd invented for this "Marshall". "Yeah, yeah...sure thing Fred...CHILO"! At which they'd laugh and laugh. Needless to say they never bothered.

The story has an especially sweet twist to it...I received another email from Chilo yesterday in which he elaborated a little on just how they caught this skunk...seems that the only good thing to come out of my involvement was that all the mounds of paperwork had been completed and Chance had finally been entered in their computers so that when the first complaint or question about this weird gringo came in, they were able to move in on him immediately...all the forms and things were ready and waiting.

Chance was arrested without incident...no heroic dash to freedom as he'd bragged about...he spent about a week in a Mexico City prison until he was shipped, special delivery...bracelets and all...to Los Angeles...where, who was waiting for him but this same officer.

As he tells it, it was one of those priceless moments. Chance and his wife Celina had also on occaision made fun of this supposed fake name I'd dreamed up for a cop...so when they brought Chance off the plane...this officer was the first to greet him...and he did it with these lovely words..."Hello, I'm Chilo".

Chance finally met Chilo. Chance will be in a a secure lock-up for the next ten years at least...and he'll carry the broken and badly set collarbone I left him with. Think I'll write to him.

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