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CHAPTER THREE
SNIFF, DRINK, LIVE

You sniff, you drink, you live.

– Andre, drug dealer

The drug business in Bali was frenetic. Alberto, a friend of Rafael’s, was acting as an agent, selling kilos of the cocaine and pills that were swamping the island. He wore disguises – wigs, hats, sunglasses – imagining himself as 007 as he sped along Bali’s potholed roads in his rented Daihatsu Feroza. He’d drive into underground car parks, and leap from one car to another to confuse possible police tails. On a job, he’d work with the world’s biggest traffickers in Bali’s top hotels. Camouflaged among tourists, he would book two or three rooms simultaneously, one to hide the drugs in, another to switch the drugs for cash.

There was a time I could say, if you snorted coke here in Bali, there was a 50 per cent chance it would have come through my hands.

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