Infamous America - MIAMI DRUG WARS Ep. 5 | “Cocaine Cops”

Episode Date: April 21, 2021

While Jon Roberts and other prominent figures in the Miami cocaine business deal with the fallout from Griselda Blanco’s situation and government informants, a new group takes center stage in the drug wars: the Cocaine Cops. Young officers on the Miami police force give into the temptation of making fast money and they organize an escalating series of crimes until, in the summer of 1985, they go too far. Join Black Barrel+ for bingeable seasons with no commercials : blackbarrel.supportingcast.fm/join For more details, please visit www.blackbarrelmedia.com. Our social media pages are: @blackbarrelmedia on Facebook and Instagram, and @bbarrelmedia on Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A boat called the Mary Sea docked at the Jones Boat Yard along the Miami River. In the summer of 1985, the river was a major thoroughfare for pleasure cruisers and fishermen. Boats regularly docked late at night after a day on the open water, so nothing about the Mary Sea seemed out of the ordinary. But the six men on board weren't coming back from a day of leisure or fishing. They were there to unload close to 400 kilos of cocaine from the boat, to a van that was waiting near the dock. The Miami River had proven to be an effective route for smugglers,

especially as the U.S. government made it harder for drug planes to fly into Florida. Sometime after midnight, the men on the Merry Sea spotted a group of cops coming their way. It was immediately clear that this was not a typical police raid. The cops had their guns raised, and it sounded like one of them was yelling, kill them, kill them. The six men jumped overboard and tried to escape down the river. The cops didn't go after them. They weren't there to make arrests. They were there for the drugs. My relentless sleep problems have always come from an overactive mind. I lay in bed at night with my mind racing from one thing to another, and then of course I have a brainstorm about

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From BlackBarrel Media, this is Infamous America. I'm your host, Chris Wimmer. In this season, we're telling a six-part story about the Miami drug wars of the 1970s and 1980s. This is episode 5, cocaine cops. The angry mob banged on the locked doors of the Norton Tire Company warehouse. Even as the mob grew, it couldn't break into the compound. Finally, someone brought in a car to do the job. The driver threw it in reverse and slammed into one of the doors over and over until it finally gave way. Members of the mobs spread out in the 75,000 square foot warehouse.

They looted tires and supplies and then set the place on fire. The blaze ripped through the building and poured smoke into the air above Miami's Brownsville neighborhood. The tire warehouse went up in flames on the night of May 17, 1980, but the spark of the riot had been lit months earlier. Late one night in December of 1979, a black insurance agent, agent named Arthur McDuffie was riding on his motorcycle when he supposedly ran a red light. Multiple police officers gave chase and McDuffie pulled over. A large group of cops approached McDuffie. They took him to the ground and at least one officer used his flashlight to beat McDuffie

into a coma while others watched. McDuffie died in the hospital four days later. The cops filed a use of force report with their police station in Miami's Liberty City neighborhood. Senior officers didn't buy their version of the story, so they opened an investigation. Janet Reno, a state's attorney at the time, eventually filed charges of manslaughter, evidence tampering, and aggravated battery against several of the officers. One cop also faced a second-degree murder charge. The state believed it had a strong case and had every confidence it would succeed in court. After plea deals and a change of venue, four of the police officers were brought before

an all-white jury in Tampa, Florida. The trial lasted almost four weeks. When closing arguments were done, the jury deliberated for less than three hours and came back with a not-guilty verdict for all four officers. The rioting started almost immediately when the news reached Miami. People looted stores, set cars on fire, and dragged drivers from the vehicles and brutally beat them. The tire warehouse fire highlighted the first day of rioting, but the chaos was just beginning. Riders overran large parts of Liberty City and other neighborhoods. Drive-by shootings began, and more fires sprang up. Miami police couldn't control the situation. Florida Governor Bob Graham sent more than 1,000 National Guardsmen to aid local police. Graham also

called on the Florida Highway Patrol and even the state wildlife officers to help. The show of force from the governor slowly quelled the violence and a relative calm fell across the city a few days later. When the smoke cleared, 18 people had been killed and approximately 400 were injured. Much of the blame for the loss of life and more than $100 million worth of damage fell squarely on Miami police. Even before the McDuffey riots, the department struggled to handle the increased violence stemming from the drug trade. When Griselda Blanco's men carried out the Dayland Mall shooting in 1979, it became clear the police were outmanned and outgunned by the drug gangs. Now it also seemed they lacked the numbers and diversity to deal with the growth and changing demographics in South Florida.

Again, violence in Miami gained national attention. Calls for change were no longer just coming from locals. The police department faced widespread criticism over racism, lack of leadership, and a failure to fulfill its duty to the community. As a result, the department committed to rapid expansion and greater representation on the force. In 1980, there were about 650 officers. By 1985, that number had grown to more than a thousand.

The Miami Police Department quickly raised its numbers to combat the growing violence, but in the process, it created a recipe for widespread corruption. New cops quickly outnumbered veterans, and soon officers with less than a year of experience were training rookies. The vetting process for new recruits suffered badly. Former Miami Police Chief Clarence Dixon, who was an officer at the time, said, We ended up scraping the bottom of the barrel. Young men who might never have made it onto the force in the past

now found themselves with badges, power, and a chance to get away with almost anything. Rodolfo Rudy Arias played football better than most. While at Miami Beach High School, he was recruited by the University of Wisconsin and offered a scholarship. Rudy had a chance to play in the Big Ten and have his education paid for. It was a huge opportunity for a poor kid from a family of Cuban immigrants. Rudy gave it a shot, but he soon gave up the scholarship and any dream of being a football player. Supposedly he didn't like the cold weather in Wisconsin. He went back to Miami, and with college no longer on the table, he needed a job.

In 1981, Miami secured the unfortunate honor of being. one of the most violent cities in America. There were more than 600 homicides that year, which placed Miami near the top of the leaderboard with cities like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, and Houston. But those other cities were also four of the five most populated cities in the country. Houston was four times bigger than Miami, but Miami had a homicide rate that was nearly on the same level with Houston. The growing body count and the fallout from the McDuffie riots made the police. desperate for new recruits, and Rudy Arias was one of them. On paper, he was a good candidate.

He was young, strong, and intimidating. He spoke English and Spanish, and he'd grown up in the city. Initially, Rudy proved up to the task. He quickly gained the reputation as a fierce and fearless cop. He once took down a heavily armed bank robber through sheer physical force. Rudy felt completely home working the night shift in Little Havana. The neighborhood welcomed the first major wave of immigrants who fled the oppression of Fidel Castro's Cuba in the 1950s and 1960s, and it became home to thousands more during the Mariel Boat Lift. Little Havana was both a cultural and economic center for much of Miami's Cuban population, but by the early 1980s, parts of the neighborhood had transformed into a haven for drug dealers and mid-level smugglers.

While working in Little Havana, Rudy fell in with a group of young cops of Cuban descent. They'd all joined the force in the wake of the McDuffie riots, and a few of them had known each other in high school. They spent their days lifting weights together and spent their nights busting drug dealers. Rudy said later that the first time he broke the law while on duty, it was just a matter of opportunity. He was searching a low-end drug dealer's car, and he found some cash. he decided to keep it.

Soon, this was a common practice for Rudy and the others. They pulled over suspected drug dealers, searched their cars, and pocketed any money they found. Some said it was easy to tell themselves they weren't doing anything wrong at that point. They were just taking money from criminals. But that became a harder argument to make when they started stealing drugs as well. If they found cocaine or marijuana in a car, they'd take the supply, let the dealer go, and then turn around and sell the drugs on the street.

At first they were selling relatively small amounts, but for guys who made about $25,000 a year on the force, the deals made a huge financial difference. Crooked cops were nothing new to Miami. Smugglers like John Roberts and Mickey Monday regularly paid police to look the other way or to provide them with inside information. But this was different. These officers were becoming part of the drug trade. They had a taste for the cocaine cowboy lifestyle,

and they wanted to pull off bigger scores and make more money. And they began to focus on a bar owner in Little Havana who would eventually lead them to a heist on the Miami River. The Molino Rojo Bar in Little Havana was a favorite meeting spot for drug dealers. Rudy and the other cops became well known in the place. They spent a number of nights showing up to make busts, and then sticking around to drink. The bar's owner, Luis Rodriguez, also worked in the drug trade.

He and his right-hand man got to know the young cops. Rodriguez grew concerned quickly. Busts inside the bar were bad for business. Both businesses, the bar and the drug trade. So they made the officers a proposition. Why not work together? Rodriguez set up substantial drug buys. When the dealers were on their way to make the sale,

Rodriguez tipped off the cops. The cops moved in as if they were making an arrest, but instead, they stole the drugs. Rodriguez and his right-hand man sold the stolen product on the street, and everyone got a cut. Under the new arrangement, the cops were now making thousands of dollars a week. And if the scheme worked with one bar owner, it would surely work with another. The cops set up the same type of deal with a second bar owner, and that guy had even bigger contacts in the drug game. Now the cops were stealing more product and making more money. As their operation expanded, the cops fully embraced Miami's drug culture. Rudy Arias primarily worked with three friends, one of whom adopted the nickname Scarface, after the movie starring Al Pacino that had been released

two years earlier in 1983. The group gave itself a name. The Enterprise. And like so many in the trade, they spent their money on cars, women, and cocaine. The Enterprise's actions were relatively unnoticed by Miami Police through the end of 1984 and into 1985, even though those in the drug business were well aware of what was going on. News about rogue cops had reached smugglers at all levels. Mickey Monday didn't worry too much about it.

He thought getting ripped off by a cop would be better than getting arrested. You'd lose your money and your product, but at least you could go free. But getting pulled over and robbed by the police wasn't the only concern. Rumors went around that cops were also breaking into dealers' houses and stealing drugs, money, and valuables. In early 1985, a banker who allegedly did business with dealers, said men broke into his house, stole $100,000, were the stuff and threatened to kill him. He was certain one of the men was a Miami cop.

Later in 1985, a weapons manufacturer was found shot dead in his home. Jewelry and a safe had been stolen. Neighbors reported seeing men who they believed were off-duty cops staking out the house before the attack took place. The guys in the Enterprise clearly weren't the only cops who were pirating Miami's drug business, but they were the ones who would finally make the department take notice. They'd had a lot of success stealing from dealers on the street, but now they wanted to set their sights in the Miami River.

If they could hit a boat before it unloaded, they could make millions of dollars. The proof of concept came when they robbed a boat called the Mitzie Ann. Members of the Enterprise converged on a marina on the Miami River. Some guys drove their squad cars, while others showed up in their personal. vehicles. The men hopped out and quickly headed to the 12-foot fence that separated them from the dock. They scaled the fence and rushed onto the Mitzie Ann. They beat up the crewmen and began searching for money or drugs or both. They found roughly 400 kilos of cocaine hidden in a compartment. A hall like that was worth somewhere around $10 million. The cops formed a line from the boat to the

fence and positioned others back by the cars. They systematically passed packages of cocaine down the line until it was all secure. One of the police cruiser's trunks was supposedly so full of coke it had to be tied shut. The plan worked like a charm, and a few members of the enterprise were said to be satisfied. The robbery yielded far more cocaine than they'd ever stolen in a single grab. They'd made a lot of money already, and they were about to make a whole lot more when they saw. sold the hall. It was time to retire from the drug business. But others saw the Mitzian as the perfect dry run for another hit on the Miami River. In the end, it was decided they'd go after another boat in a couple weeks. The crew would be a little different. Rudy Arias wouldn't be able

to make it, but the crew still thought they'd have plenty of guys to storm their next target, the Merry Sea. Two weeks later, the cops of the Enterprise drowned. and partied with a few women in a convenience store parking lot. The successful raid of the Mitzie Ann left them brimming with confidence, and tonight would be the follow-up. They were killing time until they headed to the Jones Boat Yard. Just like their last heist on the river, they knew when the boat was supposed to dock.

That was the benefit of working with men like Luis Rodriguez. As the clock passed midnight, they left the convenience store and made their move. Bob Downes was the night watchman at the boatyard. That night in the summer of 1985, he received a group of unexpected visitors. He was confronted by maybe six men. They said they were cops, and they were there to raid one of the boats at the dock. Bob saw police uniforms and badges, so he let the men through the gate.

The cops headed into the boatyard and swarmed the merry sea. When the crew saw the guns and heard what they thought were show, of kill them, they leapt into the water. The crewmen were probably overwhelmed by shock. The cops had no intention of actually killing anyone. That would draw way too much attention. The cops moved quickly, secured the cocaine, and stuffed it into a van that was going to be used by the drug crew.

When the cops drove up to the gate with the van, Bob Downs opened it again. He didn't think much about it. Raids were not uncommon on the river. At about 1.30 a.m., Bob noted the incident in his office log. He simply wrote, Fessel Mary C. raided by police. Crew goes for swim. Not far down the road, the cops ditched the van and moved the coke into other vehicles.

As far as they knew, the night had been just as successful as their raid on the Mitzie Ann. No shots were fired. There was no interference from the crew, and they'd taken another huge score. They were so unconcerned about getting caught that one of the cops tracked down Rudy Arias and gave him four kilos of cocaine. He called it a gift. Rudy hadn't been able to do the job with him, but they didn't want him to completely miss out. Rudy quickly sold the Coke and made $92,000 without lifting a finger. It was supposed to be $100,000, but the buyer ripped him off. Rudy was so happy to have made more than three times his annual salary for doing no work that he didn't care about the rip-off.

But the heist of the Mary Sea did not end like the heist of the Mitzian. Something happened that the men of the Enterprise probably never considered. Three of the crewmen who jumped overboard did not know how to swim. They drowned and their bodies were found floating in the river not too far from the Jones' boathyard. The dead men wore designer jeans and had large sums of cash in their pockets. Their belts held beepers and guns. In 1980s, those were the calling cards of drug dealers. Police on the scene notified detectives who worked on a special task force that was dedicated to drug-related homicides.

But the body showed no signs of struggle with anything other than the water. As far as the detectives were concerned, the men had drowned by a lot of. accident. There was no outward reason to believe it was homicide. Then they heard an interesting story from the night watchman Bob Downs. He told them about the police raid and the crewmen jumping overboard. Calls to various local precincts showed no records of a police raid on the Miami River the night before. The simplest explanation was that members of one gang impersonated police officers to steal from another gang. It was a relatively common, tactic in Miami. The detectives now knew they had a crime on their hands. If the fake

cops had forced the men into the water, which led to their deaths, that was something they could investigate. They started digging, but they had no idea they'd soon be tracking down a group of their own. On an afternoon in August, 1985, a pickup truck drove into a vacant lot in Miami. A group of men pushed a heavy, non-descript box off the bed of the truck. They drove away, either assuming they hadn't been seen or assuming their action wouldn't raise suspicion. They were wrong. Witnesses thought the scene was strange and they called the police. Cops arrived and slowly approached the discarded box. When they opened it, the dead man inside almost popped out. They said it was like watching a jack in the box. The body,

was riddled with bullets and covered in lime powder. The dead man was Luis Rodriguez, the owner of the Molino Rojo Bar. The box appeared in the lot soon after the bodies had turned up in the river. The task force detectives thought there might be a connection. They quickly uncovered that Luis was a small-time criminal who'd spent years trying to make his way up the food chain in Miami's narcotics business. They asked questions at the Molino Rojo Bar. and learned that in addition to running drugs, Luis was an informant for a Miami homicide detective from time to time. The homicide detective said he'd met Luis

through a young cop who worked in Little Havana. The kid's name was Armando Estrada, the member of the Enterprise who nicknamed himself Scarface. A detective met with Estrada, and the young officer seemed off. The detective asked questions that should have been easy to answer, but Estrada was nervous and shaky. He couldn't keep his story straight when it came to the boat called the Merry Sea.

First, Estrada said the raid on the boat was carried out by Colombians who wanted revenge on smugglers who'd stolen from them. When the detective pointed out that men in uniform had been seen on the dock, Estrada immediately started talking about police impersonators, as if he was trying to feed the detective the narrative he wanted to hear. None of the detectives working on the case believed Estrada was telling the truth, but they didn't want to admit what they were all starting to think. What if Luis Rodriguez hadn't been working with police impersonatives?

What if he'd been working with actual cops? Accusing fellow officers of drug-related crimes and possibly murder wasn't something anyone on the task force took lightly. They needed airtight evidence before they did anything. Even as they moved forward with the investigation, the department appeared unwilling to acknowledge potential corruption in its own ranks, despite the fact that it was staring them right in the face. A few days after the warning signs that were raised by Estrada's behavior, another member of the Enterprise drew major attention to himself.

He was another of the original three who were close friends with Rudy Arias, and the dominoes started to fall from there. Osvaldo Koyo was driving a Red Lotus sports car 120 miles per hour. Florida Highway Patrol cars were on his tail, but he couldn't shake them. Eventually, he gave up and pulled over. When the troopers approached him, they suspected he might be high on cocaine. Coyo identified himself as a Miami police officer, but the troopers soon learned he was no longer a cop. He'd recently resigned during an internal affairs investigation into his potential cocaine use.

When the troopers searched Coyo, he had close to $5,000 in cash on him, not to mention his Red Lotus was worth about $59,000. Both of those things should have appeared unusual for a guy who just resigned from a job that only paid him $25,000 a year. But the troopers didn't arrest him. If they had, they might have learned that three weeks earlier, Koyo helped rob close to 400 kilos of cocaine from the Mary Sea. Not long after Koyo's incident, two Miami cops were caught trying to sell police badges and automatic weapons to drug dealers. That was followed by a cop breaking into a safe in the office of the Police Special Investigations Unit and stealing $150,000. Cracks in the foundation were starting to show, but the ring of corruption hadn't been fully exposed. In the fall of 1985, members of the Enterprise were still free, and crime was still rampant among Miami law enforcement.

But their time was running out. The detectives working on the Mary C case were moving in. Their task force, the rejuvenated unit, Centac 26, was about to pour its resources into rooting out. corruption in the police force. And like the cocaine cops, the cocaine cowboys were running out of time as well. All good things must come to an end, and the only question for John Roberts, Mickey Monday, Barry Seal, and Griselda Blanco was when? Next time on Infamous America, in the season finale, cops and cowboys fall in equal measure. Some go to jail, some go on the run, and some go down in hails of gunfire.

The Miami Drug Wars conclude next week on Infamous America. And members of our Black Barrel Plus program don't have to wait week to week. They receive early access and the entire season to binge all at once with no commercials. Sign up now through the link in the show notes or on our website, blackbarrelmedia.com. Memberships begin at just $5 per month. This season was co-executive produced by Stephen Walters in association with ritual productions. Research and Writing by Michael Federico, original music by Rob Valier,

audio editing and sound design by Dave Harrison. I'm your host and producer, Chris Wimmer. Find us at our website, blackbarrelmedia.com, or on our social media channels. We're Black Barrel Media on Facebook and Instagram and B-Beryl Media on Twitter. And you can stream all our episodes on YouTube. Just search for Infamous America Podcast.

Thanks for listening.