Where Mercy Is Shown, Mercy Is Given - Duane Dog Chapman [3]
To find a fugitive, you have to think and act like him. You have to understand his needs, desires, strengths, and weaknesses. You have to know everything about the person you’re looking for. Who is he? Who is his family? Who are his friends? Where does he hang out? More information means greater insight into the mind of the man you’re chasing.
On January 15, 2003, Andrew Luster was charged with flight to avoid prosecution. That put him on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. It also made him “Dog’s Most Wanted.” I went up to Ventura County Court to get a copy of the warrant. I told the court clerk who I was and said, “I’m the guy who is going to capture Andrew Luster.” As charming as I thought I was, she told me to wait in the corridor while she went to talk to Judge Riley, the judge who was presiding over the case. When she came back, she handed me a copy of the warrant, Luster’s mug shots, and a personal message from the judge.
“He said, ‘Good luck,’ Dog.”
On February 18, 2003, a jury found Andrew Luster guilty of eighty-six of the eighty-seven criminal charges against him. The jury was deadlocked on one count of poisoning. These convictions were enough to get Luster 124 years in jail and he was sentenced in absentia.
By the time he was convicted, Luster had been on the run for more than a month. He might have changed his appearance and begun living under a new identity. He could have been thousands of miles away or right under my nose. I had no idea where he was, but I knew I would find him.
Months of research and investigation went by before all signs pointed me toward Mexico. I took a giant leap of faith, as did my son Leland and Tim “Youngblood” Chapman, and we headed for the border. On June 18, 2003, we finally got our guy in Puerto Vallarta.
I wrestled him to the ground, cuffed him, stood up, and said, “You are under arrest in the name of the United States government and Mexico!”
We took Luster into custody so that we could hand him over to the Mexican police. The station was only a couple blocks away from where we’d captured that son of a bitch. On the way, we were pulled over by the Mexican police and ordered to get out of our truck. I didn’t want to move. I had the fugitive in my grips, and nothing was going to stop me from handing him over to the proper authorities—nothing, except a bunch of Mexican police officers pointing machine guns at me.
I tried to explain that I was Dog Chapman and the man in custody was Andrew Luster, who was wanted in America. When they asked Luster his name, he replied, “David Carrera.” That was the name he’d been living under while he was on the run. Luster started speaking Spanish. He told the police officers we had kidnapped him, that he was the victim.
I knew this couldn’t be good. As they began to uncuff him, I pleaded with the officers, telling them they were making a huge mistake. They took us all to the station to get confirmation of the story. Despite Luster’s story being bogus, the authorities decided to throw Leland, Tim, and me in a cell until our story could be verified.
I had walked out of the Texas State Penitentiary almost a quarter century earlier. I promised God I would never go back to jail. From the moment I left Huntsville, having served eighteen months on a bunk murder-one rap, I had dedicated myself to living a good clean life. No more crimes. My number one purpose as a bounty hunter has been to serve truth and justice. I swore I would never hear the sound of the steel door slam shut and lock behind me again. Now here I was, sitting in a Mexican prison, with thin steel bars between me and freedom. My heart ached from the thought of being back in hell. And I was scared, too. The next day, we were told that the boys and I were being charged with kidnapping. I was nauseous at the thought that we