Buenos Aires, March 5, 2000

Taxi robbery.

I suffered the first violent crime of my life.

Buenos Aires has been suffering from some time from a wave of robberies to taxi passengers. The usual modus operandi consists in two thieves climbing suddenly to the cab and pointing their weapons at the passenger. Then they take the victim’s ATM card and credit card and force the password from the owner by means of outright torture. One of the criminals gets down at an ATM while the other two (the taxi driver is always in it) take the victim for a ride around the block. They pick up the first robber who has already withdrawn as much cash as allowed by the system (usually $1000) and they release the passenger in an isolated area. These criminals usually operate in downtown Buenos Aires where all the banks and main companies operate and they can find the typical ATM card carrier executive.

I was aware of this danger. During my stay in Marval O’Farrell & Mairal law firm more than 15 co-workers suffered this exact crime. All the cases where duly publicized through the e-mail system to the whole firm and many precautions where suggested like not taking cabs alone, not taking a cab when you go out of a bank, taking radio taxis when possible, and when you had to take a cab in the street always choose the newest models since they are the least likely to be used for crimes. Of all these precautions I only followed the last one. My risk (I thought) was minimal since I rarely take taxies (I always have the impression that they are cheating with the meter-I’m usually right- and I hate that).

On September 13, 2000 I hailed a taxi (a nice Peugeot 405) in downtown Buenos Aires to go to my pre-birth gymnastics (yes I did the gym too). When I got in I noticed a plastic put loosely over the back seat. The driver asked me some weird questions that I later realized were some kind of code for his accomplices relayed probably through an open cellular. When the car stopped at the destination and while I was looking for the money in my wallet (I was pretty sure that I was being cheated with the fare) two men got inside the car one in the front and one on my left. The guy in my left showed me a knife, told me he had a gun and that he would shoot me if I moved. The man in the front pretended to be threatening the driver. They forced me to look down to my knees and put my hands on them. They talked all the time non stop so I cannot remember exactly what they said but the story line went something like "we are escaping from the police and we need this car. We will not harm you if you don’t cause trouble". They headed for "Palermo Viejo" which is a neighborhood with less traffic and public lights. The man on my left took my wallet and handed it to the man on the front.

Allow me a parenthesis in the story. Three months before this day I lost my ATM card. I never had it replaced because the bank was in the building next to my office and I never needed it. The bank also issued me a VISA credit card which I did have that day. The bank sent by mail a password that would have allowed me to use the credit card to make withdrawals from ATM machines but I never memorized it.

Back to the car, while the man in the front was looking in my wallet I asked in a humble tone whether I could say something. -OK- said the guy in the from who acted like the boss. -I don’t have an ATM card because I lost it some weeks ago- said I. The man in the front didn’t answer but started to make questions –what do you do for a living?- I was tempted to tell him that I did some clerical low paid job when I remembered that he was holding my wallet with my business card and my Bar identification. So I answered that I was a lawyer. –Criminal lawyer?- He asked. I doubted again whether it would help me to be a criminal lawyer since they probably would be needing one soon, but I decided to go with the truth and told him I practiced civil law –so you are one of those guys who steal from the people- he said. It is a funny commentary to come from a robber but I did not laugh and answered -I wish I were-.

They went to business, and started asking me the password for the VISA credit card. –I don’t know it- I said. Then it got nasty.

They started shouting at me and threatened to kill me nonstop. The one in the front was telling the guy at my side to stab me with his knife! Then the robber by me elbowed my face. I felt my head exploding and though it hurt a lot it was more scary than painful because blood just erupted very hard from my nose onto my clothes. I covered my face with my hands and shouted something in Spanish that could be translated roughly like –son of a bitch!- -What did you say to me?- shouted the man who hit me. -nothing- I whispered back sacrificing some dignity in exchange for some safety. I proceeded to tell that they could kill me right there and then but I would not be able to tell them what I didn’t know. They kept pounding (verbally) at me for what seemed an eternity. I just sat with my head down, a continuous stream of blood pouring through my nose (I realized why the sit had that plastic wrap) and kept telling I did not know the code of the Visa card. I added that they could use the card to do shopping, that they could spend up to $ 1.000 (the actual limit was $ 3.000).

On another conscious level I was very calm, hopeful that they were bluffing but thinking that there was very REAL possibility that my life was over and that I would never see my son and wife again and that I would never meet my unborn child. It is amazing how fantasy and self-pity can mix up in a really dangerous situation. I imagined my funeral, my wife crying, my son by my coffin. Not nice thoughts.

The one in the front found an old bank statement in my wallet that had a balance of some $ 300. He asked me what the code of my lost ATM was and told me that he was able to use it with the credit card. He warned me that if it didn’t work it would be because I lied and they would kill me. I didn’t lie and gave him the code though I knew it wouldn't work on the credit card. The guy in the front wrote down the code and got out of the car while the driver (without being told to do so) took us around the block. The first man got back up and told us that the ATM didn’t recognize the code and that it swallowed up the card. Didn’t try to hurt me or threaten me anymore. They took my cash ($ 20), and a phone card and handed my wallet with all my other things back to me. We stopped at a very dark place, he got out, took me out of the car and told me to walk straight for 100 meters before turning around. I walked 50 meters and turned around expecting to see them gone. He was still there and shouted me to keep on walking. I kept walking until the end of the block, turned around and they were gone. I started to walk back towards an avenue 3 blocks away. I was literally covered in blood. I tried to cover a little of it with my legal pad so not to scare passers-by too much, but it was to little avail. I felt a little guilty for looking so scary. If you pass by a big man covered in blood what would you think? I would wonder whether he is a victim or a criminal. I felt that kind of look while I walked many times.

I got to the avenue and walked to a gas station. The attendants were obviously alarmed at first but then they reacted and gave me a phone. I called Marina first to ask her to pick me up. I tried to minimize the incident in order not worry her too much remembering her condition. Then I called VISA to report the stolen card. I washed myself as much as I could to improve my looks (lost cause) and waited. Marina picked me up 10 minutes later and was dismayed to see my appearance. I told her that I was fine and hungry and I put my gym t-shirt over my bloody shirt and we went to a McDonald’s to have a bite.

Memories start to fade after some time and the brain many times chooses to start with the unpleasant ones when it’s time to discard. That’s why I decided to write down to the boring detail what happened that night. This kind of crime has turned so common in Buenos Aires that you can often see news about them in the newspaper. Reading them I realize how lucky I was. Many victims turn out dead or badly wounded. Some people I know were beaten to a pulp for not remembering the code and they wives called through the victim’s cellular to hear her husband tortured while asked for the code. I was lucky and it cost me only $ 20. Now I have a life insurance to protect my family if something ever happens to me. I have a new ATM with an insurance to cover me for losses against this kind of situations if it ever happens again. Not likely though since I rarely use taxies anymore and when I do I call them by phone and never hail one in the street.

Security is turning into a hot issue in politics while a crime wave ripples through Buenos Aires, formerly considered one of the safest cities in the world. The issues mentioned are (i) reform to the criminal laws that would increase prison terms and avoid turning felons loose on technicalities, (ii) increase of police presence in the street and (iii) improvement of the now desperate general economic conditions that would provide more employment. We’ll see what happens. In the meantime, if you ever come to Buenos Aires don’t be afraid to walk around. It is still as safe a city as you can get, but never take a cab in the street unless you want a chance for an exciting ride.

 

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