Escape of a Pampered Prisoner Echoes Tijuana’s Bawdy History

The squat brick structure that houses the municipal jail here does not seem like the kind of place good times are made of. The armed guards, barred windows and the building’s bunker-like appearance contribute to a general sense of menace, and visitors say the inside is predictably damp, dirty and inhospitable.

But it was inside this building--in a top-floor suite that one jailer called “El Penthouse”--that an infamous purported drug trafficker and murderer allegedly spent more than six months in relative luxury: He enjoyed several well-appointed private rooms, a personal computer and private telephone, and he regularly received visitors and hosted boisterous parties and was allowed weekend visits with his family in Tijuana, according to documents on file in federal court here.

The good times ceased abruptly on Oct. 25, when the alleged trafficker, Jose Contreras Subias, was escorted out of jail by police officers and jailers and allowed to escape, presumably first to the United States and than to South America or elsewhere, according to court documents and officials.

The ensuing scandal has reverberated on both sides of the border, spiced by revelations of Contreras’ posh prison life style, which was sustained, officials say, by alleged payments of thousands of dollars in bribes to police and jail officials.

In the United States, federal drug officials were reportedly furious. U.S. and Mexican authorities described Contreras as the right-hand man of Rafael Caro Quintero, the purported drug kingpin who allegedly headed a multimillion-dollar drug empire and is being held in connection with the murder of U.S. drug agent Enrique Camarena Salazar and a Mexican pilot.

“We’re disappointed, disturbed. The man (Contreras) is a key figure in the Caro Quintero organization,” said Ronald D’Ulisse, a spokesman for the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency in San Diego. “We know he had at least after-the-fact knowledge of the murder of our agent, and he may have had before-the-fact knowledge.”

Here, Contreras’ escape and subsequent revelations about his life style have alternately titillated and outraged a populace seemingly inured to tales of public corruption. The case is seen as the latest setback to efforts aimed at reforming Tijuana’s lingering image as a wide-open border town, a place of steamy cantinas and flashing neon where bribery was a way of life and any kind of vice was available for a price.

“Of course these kinds of reports hurt us; any adverse publicity hurts,” said Gilberto Gonzalez Esparza, general manager of the National Chamber of Commerce, Services and Tourism of Tijuana. “It’s just not good for tourism, and the major part of our economy is based on tourism.”

Officials are hard-pressed to explain how such blatant favoritism and open bribery could apparently flourish in the midst of a national campaign of “moral renovation” and a nationwide resolve to stem drug trafficking. Color tabloids have speculated about the incident being a possible prelude to a dramatic effort to spring Caro Quintero from his cell in Mexico City.

‘Pervasive’ Corruption

“The case was so dramatic, the corruption was so pervasive, that even people here were shocked,” said J. Jesus Blancornelas, editor and publisher of the Tijuana weekly Zeta, who has written extensively about the drug “Mafia” in Mexico. “The escape of Contreras,” Blancornelas wrote recently, “has been for the government of Baja California what the earthquake was for Mexico City.”

Government officials in this city of more than 1 million have been trying their best to leave the tremors behind them, but the aftershocks continue to rumble. Charged with taking bribes and assisting in Contreras’ escape are the former warden of the jail and three city police officers, all in jail in Tijuana. Also arrested were three former jailers who are free on bail.

Police Chief Rafael Rubio Alarcon, a well-known 44-year-old businessman who took office last June with a mandate to clean up the department, took a leave of absence soon after the incident became known. He may not be coming back. Mayor Rene Trevino Arredondo, who has tried hard to bolster the image of this border city, felt the need to call a press conference at which he denied allegations that drug money had worked its way to other city officials and into the municipal treasury.

Mexican investigators have said there is no evidence to implicate other local officials in the case.

Sensitive About Image

The public house cleaning does not sit well with Tijuana officials, who prefer to point proudly to the city’s American-style shopping malls, its futuristic cultural center and such new facilities as the Fiesta Americana Hotel and office complex, two 27-story glass towers not far from downtown that opened earlier this year. The city and state spend considerable sums--no one will say exactly how much--purchasing advertising, wooing travel agents and otherwise attempting to attract Americans south of the border. Officials are extremely sensitive about the image question.

“We are constantly forced to fight this negative image of Tijuana,” Trevino said in an interview. “It is all in the past, but still we must fight against it. . . . Occasionally there are lamentable events, such as this escape, which can happen in any country. But we try our best to provide a tranquil, safe atmosphere both for our citizens and for visitors.”

The reason for de-emphasizing the city’s somewhat sullied image is obvious: Tourism is the area’s lifeblood, and officials are anxiously seeking to promote foreign investment. City officials boast that Tijuana is the most visited city in the world. They estimate that each of the more than 35 million people crossing from San Diego into Tijuana each year spends at least $20, for a total of about $700 million.

And when Tijuana officials talk about the city’s expanding industrial base, they are inevitably referring to the maquiladoras-- mostly U.S. firms that have established factories along the border to take advantage of special laws by both nations that enable them to use cheap Mexican labor.

Arrested in Costa Rica

Contreras, 36, a tall, curly haired man, was taken to the jail here shortly after his arrest in Costa Rica last April. He was to have faced charges of murder and drug possession in connection with the slaying last year of a Mexican federal police officer killed during a shoot-out outside of Tijuana on Nov. 1, 1984.

His “cell,” court documents show, was actually a multiroom suite that had a reception area, meeting room, computer office and bedroom. It was in the upper part of the jail, accessible from inside by a separate staircase, court papers show.

In other ways, too, he was no ordinary prisoner. Some of the hundreds of pages of court documents describe weekend visits to his family’s home in Tijuana, alleged payments of thousands of dollars to jail and police officials, visitors coming and going at all hours and various other examples of special treatment.

In one sworn statement, Raul Zapari Guevara, one of the accused jailers, stated that Contreras “frequently organized private parties in his cell which were attended by party girls, their escorts and different persons. . . .” The guard said party-goers used various kinds of liquor and drugs, including cocaine.

On Oct. 25, police escorted Contreras out of prison for a court appearance--one of many such outings. After appearing in court that morning, he did not return to jail. Trevino and Rubio said they did not learn of his disappearance until four days later.

‘Very Good Connections’

U.S. officials say they believe that he crossed the border into San Diego, spent one or two nights there accompanied by heavily armed pistoleros, then left the area. “We know he had some very good connections and contacts in South America, particularly Colombia,” said D’Ulisse, the U.S. drug agency spokesman. “As such a close lieutenant of Caro Quintero, he has access to considerable resources in terms of money and arms.”

In Tijuana, meanwhile, the case has moved off the front pages, and the jail seems outwardly to be functioning smoothly with a new warden--and without its most celebrated prisoner.