Source: New York Times Pubdate: Sun, 15 Feb 1998 Author: Jim Yardley Contact: Website: http://www.nytimes.com/ Open House: DECORATORS DESCRIBE DRUG LORD'S MANSIONS NEW YORK -- When your client is one of the world's leading cocaine traffickers and a man untroubled by an occasional expedient homicide, keeping him happy is both good business and a matter of self-preservation. So when Alexander Blarek, an interior designer, needed to create a handmade leather sofa for Jose Santacruz Londono, he knew that ordinary cows would not do. Without revealing his client, Blarek boasted that he had traveled to England in pursuit of the perfect herd. There, his story went, he found 17 cows raised in a pen, their hides unblemished by barbed wire. Such indulgence also led Blarek to Italy in search of marble for the 15 bathrooms Santacruz and his wife, Amparo, wanted in a new mansion in Cali, Colombia, modeled partly on the White House. "Made the Colombian Connection," Blarek wrote in his diary in 1979, after first landing Santacruz as a client. "Santacruz. House is fantastic!" For 18 years, Blarek, 56, and his business partner and companion, Frank V. Pellecchia, 49, explored the far reaches of excess in the service of Santacruz, described by federal agents as the leader of the Cali drug cartel before his death in 1996. The two decorators traveled on lavish buying trips, spending at least $6 million on furnishings and art, including gold-plated sinks, bronze nudes, ivory tusks and cabinets with secret compartments. It was as much a clash of cliches as a business relationship: two San Francisco interior decorators selecting fabrics and color schemes for a Colombian drug lord. "It's like 'The Birdcage' meets 'Scarface,' " is the joke making the rounds at U.S. District Court in Brooklyn. Federal prosecutors, however, are not laughing. In a case expected to conclude this week, Blarek and Pellecchia are charged with laundering narcotics money for the Cali Cartel, once a leading cocaine supplier to the United States. The trial is being held in Brooklyn because Blarek and Pellecchia often shopped for Santacruz at exclusive New York stores like Lorin Marsh Limited, where they bought a custom-made dining room table with 18 chairs. Prosecutors also contend that the defendants came to New York to collect bags of cash taken from a drug money "stash house" in Queens. Whatever the verdict, the case of Blarek and Pellecchia has offered an unusual glimpse into the Cali cartel life style. To paraphrase F. Scott Fitzgerald, drug lords are different from you and me. "It was just unbelievable," Blarek declared in a taped telephone conversation presented as evidence by the government. In the conversation, he described a Colombian warehouse owned by Santacruz that was filled with appliances, cars and other American goods. "It was like a Home Depot." Not even last week's sober financial testimony by government witnesses could obscure a certain loopy quality to the case. Several government witnesses carefully described a money trail between Santacruz, the defendants and a Miami accountant; other witnesses described $300,000 orders of china and stemware and a $200,000 home stereo system. And the bag that prosecutors said contained the cash deliveries from Santacruz to the defendants? Gucci. A critical issue in the case is one of intent. Federal prosecutors are contending that Blarek and Pellecchia knowingly participated in a conspiracy to launder drug money. They have placed into evidence diaries, day planners and financial records detailing the ties between the two defendants and Santacruz. They have confirmed numerous cash payments to the defendants, including one for $1 million. An assistant U.S. attorney, Mark W. Lerner, described the two interior decorators as "heads of the department of lavish and excessive drug dealer's consumption." But defense lawyers believe the government is wrongly depicting the two defendants as members of the Cali Cartel rather than as simply hired help. Friday, Blarek testified that he knew of Santacruz's chosen profession as early as 1981, but that he never discussed drugs or money laundering with him. Blarek testified that most of his dealings were actually with Mrs. Santacruz, not the drug lord himself. His defense attorney, Paul Shechtman, argued that "guilt by association" is not a crime. "They're not on trial for their taste in clients," Shechtman said, "but for whether they were part of a criminal conspiracy with Santacruz. And they weren't." For 18 years, Blarek and Pellecchia worked almost exclusively for Santacruz, his wife and, later, two of his mistresses. The association ended in March 1996 after Santacruz died in a shootout with the Colombian Army. The association began in 1979, when Blarek visited Colombia with another designer. While driving though Cali, Blarek noticed a large home under construction. After the security guard agreed to summon the owners, and Mrs. Santacruz appeared. It was a fortuitous meeting; the couple needed an interior designer and decorator. Blarek eventually extracted a contract for $200,000, after initially asking for $300,000. There would be at least 15 different Santacruz residences in Colombia and the United States that would command the attention of Blarek and Pellecchia. The two men had met while living in Miami, and at a dinner in March 1981, they formed a professional partnership that would also become personal. Blarek was the designer; he conceived pieces of custom furniture and created the "cattle" motif at Mrs. Santacruz's ranch house, just outside Cali. Fluent in Spanish, Pellecchia oversaw on-site crews and drafted blueprints. The projects began to blur together. After the initial job, Blarek and Pellecchia completed a $350,000 renovation of Santacruz's Cali office in 1983. In one flourish, Blarek bolted a dining table to the floor by a narrow support so that "it looked like it was floating." A $75,000 freshening of Mrs. Santacruz's Bogota apartment was completed in 1984. That same year, the decorators began working on two guest apartments owned by Santacruz in a Cali high-rise. During Friday's testimony, Blarek flipped through scrapbooks of the projects, displaying his color schemes to the jury or explaining Art Deco versus Italian modernist. "Is this a sales presentation or is it testimony?" an exasperated Lerner said, without earning any sympathy from the bemused judge, Jack Weinstein. The prosecutors are leery of defense efforts to reduce the trial to a decorating show. They have presented witnesses and evidence attacking the credibility of the defendants. Blarek conceded on the stand that he lied during different interviews with Drug Enforcement Agency investigators about Santacruz. In 1981, a DEA agent, Kenneth Robinson, interviewed Blarek at his Miami home, the first time, Blarek said, that he learned about Santacruz's drug connections. But when Santacruz mysteriously appeared at Blarek's doorstep the next day, the decorator never called the DEA. Blarek said he lied about losing his passport and he also admitted to bleaching out stamps indicating trips to Colombia. Nor did he fully report his gross receipts on his tax forms. A string of vendors who supplied the merchandise ordered by Santacruz testified about the different explanations that Blarek concocted for his mystery client: that he was the president of Peru, the prime minister of Venezuela, a South American industrialist or even a Spanish prince building a castle. "It was just simpler than explaining," Blarek testified. He said that he and Pellecchia tried on more than one occasion to sever their connection to Santacruz. "He made it clear that he terminates people, they don't terminate him," Blarek testified. In 1992, Santacruz ordered the slaying of a New York-based journalist, Manuel de Dios Unanue, who had crusaded against the Colombian cartels. The two decorators continued working for Santacruz when in 1984 he informed them that an extensive renovation was needed for a new home intended for his mistress, Marely, and their three children. Within a few years, a second mistress, Patricia, appeared with her own decorating needs. Shipping goods from the United States became a nightmare. In one instance, diapers intended for a newly pregnant Marely (Mrs. Santacruz called her "the rabbit") mistakenly arrived at one of Mrs. Santacruz's residences. To navigate this delicate situation, Blarek testified that he assigned codes to different residences: A1, for example, signified Mrs. Santacruz's principal residence; M2 denoted Marely's country farm house. There also were designations for apartments in Boston and New York. Assistant U.S. Attorney Richard Weber has argued that the codes were actually connected to money laundering. Aware of her husband's infidelities, Mrs. Santacruz apparently took her revenge on his bank account: she shopped. "Yeah, she said it was better than sex with her husband," Blarek testified. "Bloomingdale's was the mother cathedral of shopping. Saks Fifth Avenue, all the better stores." Blarek said Santacruz barked about the high price of the china ordered by his wife, "My name is Santacruz, not Santa Claus." But Marely's unexplained death in 1989, coupled with new decorating projects, apparently lifted Mrs. Santacruz's spirits. Her ranch house outside Cali, the A-6-N project, would be Blarek's and Pellecchia's proudest achievement. ( Blarek testified that he and Pellecchia reserved their best work for Mrs. Santacruz, their favorite.) The ranch house featured a 40-by-60-foot atrium with a landscaped fountain and palm trees. The kitchen boasted at least five sinks and the capacity to cook a feast for 100 guests. Leather carpets decorated the floors in keeping with Blarek's earthy cattle motif. For a man with at least a dozen residences, Santacruz nonetheless decided by 1989 that he needed more space in the main house, Casa Blanco, which he shared with his wife. With Marely's death, Mrs. Santacruz had agreed to take in her four children, prompting Santacruz to call for a new wing. Eventually, the entire house was razed to make room for a 20,000-square-foot replica of the White House. A concrete shell stands today on the property, Santacruz's violent 1996 death having halted construction. A little more than a year later, on June 18, 1997, federal agents arrested Pellecchia and Blarek at their San Francisco home in the exclusive Sea Cliff area. It seems the decorators were living in style, too. Federal agents seized $750,000 in cash from two safety deposit boxes and froze $2.1 million held in a brokerage account. They also found the Gucci bag.