Drug Fugitive on Loose Leash While Being Held in Mexico : Courts: Daniel Fowlie was apprehended on 49 charges filed in the U.S. Although he lives in prison, ‘they kinda let me do what I want around here now,’ he says.

After a recent Mexican court ruling opposed an extradition request by the United States, life in prison has become a lot more comfortable for one of the most wanted men in Southern California’s war on drugs.

Daniel James Fowlie, jailed in Mexico on American charges that he ran a vast marijuana operation based in Orange County, says that since the December ruling he has been released to go marlin fishing, visit his beachfront home and pursue a construction business here in this roost for American sportsmen and suspected gateway for drugs bound for the United States.

But the court ruling could mean more than just an occasional release for rest and relaxation. Ultimately, the decision by the Colegiado del 12th Districto could free Fowlie, 57, who federal investigators say did business with drug lords suspected of killing U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration Agent Enrique (Kiki) Camarena Salazar in 1985.

A final review of the Mexican ruling is pending, but U.S. officials are not optimistic it will be reversed.

The drug charges against Fowlie, filed in U.S. District Court in Los Angeles, include conspiracy to distribute and sell hundreds of thousands of pounds of marijuana and lesser amounts of cocaine, and operating a continuing criminal enterprise.

In December, the court in Mazatlan opposed the U.S. extradition request, concluding that Fowlie’s return would violate the Mexican constitution. The judges said that the evidence against him comes mostly from felons, viewed as generally unreliable, and that Mexico recognizes no such crime as “conspiracy.”

If Fowlie is released, the loss will be a major blow to a 5-year-old criminal prosecution that has led to the convictions of five people, including his two sons, and resulted in the seizure of Rancho del Rio, Fowlie’s 213-acre spread on the east Orange County border. The rustic site, worth an estimated $6 million, was turned into a huge prop last summer for a national address on drugs by President Bush.

The ranch “was the core of an international marijuana and cocaine smuggling ring,” Bush told a crowd of 1,500 people from a podium near Fowlie’s front porch. “How many lives, how many families, how many hopes and dreams have been destroyed with these chemical weapons of death and destruction--drugs?”

“Dog-and-pony show,” said Fowlie, who believes his secluded ranch was seized illegally.

“They have no tape recordings, no drug buys, no nothing on me,” Fowlie continued. “When they do get something on me, it’s always (from) some other criminal and that’s what they don’t like down here. Those guys are three-time losers and full-time liars. . . . I like Mexican justice better. They stick to their laws.”

Fowlie’s release, investigators warn, also could thwart any chance to question and perhaps make a deal with a man who could provide useful information about the reputed drug lords suspected of killing Camarena.

Experts in Mexican law say Fowlie’s conditions of confinement during his extradition fight are typical of those for inmates who have money, prominence or the persuasiveness to convince authorities that they will not escape if released for short periods.

“My reaction is that this is clearly irregular and there is no legal basis for this type of action,” said Prof. Jorge A. Vargas, director of the Mexico-U.S. Law Institute at the University of San Diego School of Law.

If Fowlie is being released improperly, Vargas said, it could trigger a “very serious” investigation by Mexico’s judicial authorities, including the attorney general’s office and Ministry of the Interior.

“They kinda let me do what I want around here now,” said Fowlie, an inmate at Centro de Readaptacion Social in La Paz, a prison known as CERESO. “There are people in Cabo San Lucas who still believe in me. They know these charges in the United States have ruined my life and that I haven’t been convicted of anything.”

By all accounts, and to the dismay of U.S. authorities, Fowlie is not just surviving, he is doing relatively well. He has been allowed to stay occasionally at the rock-and-tile house he owns on beachfront property north of Cabo San Lucas, where his prized pit bulls stand guard, including Rosie, a reddish-brown dog that survived a concussion grenade in the 1985 raid on Rancho del Rio.

His wealth, he says, has come from years of land investments and the “Leather Gypsy,” a successful leather goods business in Laguna Beach he sold for $3 million in the early 1970s. He moved to Latin America shortly after the sale.

He said his engineering skills and construction equipment recently have been enlisted by a Mexican real estate company with big plans for a shopping center. And he said the bar association of Baja California Sur commissioned him to paint a long-eared, horned owl for Carlos Salinas de Gortari, the president of Mexico. Fowlie has a photograph of the presentation to the president.

Fowlie has displayed his other watercolors and oils of fish and marine fowl at art shows in the hotel-studded fishing village. From painting alone, he says, he has made thousands of dollars.

In town, the charismatic Fowlie is known by scores of hoteliers, restaurateurs, lawyers and skippers of sportfishing boats that are docked in the snug harbor.

In prison, Fowlie wears his own clothes, usually jeans and flannel shirts. He is on a first-name basis with the staff, and the atmosphere in the jail yard is more akin to a city park. To help him take care of business on the outside, his Jeep Cherokee is in the parking lot and he has hired an errand boy for $400 a month.

“I don’t abuse the privileges and I have never tried to escape,” Fowlie said.

Tanned and fit, Fowlie is housed behind CERESO’s whitewashed walls in a wing reserved for inmates awaiting trial. He says his cell, which he shares with seven prisoners, measures 12 feet by 15 feet--nothing extravagant.

In the jail yard, large thatched umbrellas and trees in brown cinder-block planters provide shade for visitors and inmates’ families. On one side is a refreshment stand selling sodas and candy. In the center, meat sizzles on the grill of a carnitas stand.

“They make great hamburgers,” Fowlie said.

On this day, children chase each other around the yard, which is equipped with a slide and swing set. Vendors sell sweet rolls, embroidered blouses and carved sailing ships in green tinted bottles.

The only reminder of prison is the concrete guard tower, where a sentry stands with an M-16 assault rifle.

“It’s the country club of Mexican prisons,” said Kathy Peterson, a U.S. Foreign Service officer responsible for checking American prisoners in Baja California. “The facility is clean, in a good climate, and there’s plenty of food. I have visited him (Fowlie), but he is not much interested in seeing us.”

The commandant of CERESO could not be reached for comment.

American diplomats and FBI agents working on the Fowlie case said they have heard rumors that he has been let out of prison repeatedly to take care of personal business.

“We are certainly eager to get him back,” said Special Agent Jim Nielson, a spokesman for the FBI.

But embassy officials and federal authorities are pessimistic about getting Fowlie back and say there is not much they can do about it. Diplomatic pressure on Mexican authorities doesn’t always work, they said.

“There is not much we can do except file the extradition papers,” said Special Assistant U.S. Atty. Sanford Feldman, who is handling the Fowlie case. “We believe we have a strong case against him. Others have pleaded guilty and the important players in the alleged operation are set to testify.”

But Fowlie said the charges are greatly exaggerated and the product of three convicted drug dealers who “made up stories” to save themselves. If anything, he says, he is the victim of people who took advantage of his permission to live and work on Rancho del Rio during his 16-year absence from the United States.

“I’ve never been convicted of anything,” Fowlie said. “They have taken all my money and seized all my property so I can’t defend myself. They’ve got my kids in jail and caused my divorce. How much more do they want?”