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Fugitive captured in Puerto Rico

Hector Luis Cardenas was wanted for several armed robberies in Tampa and had previosuly escaped from custody.

By SHANNONCOLAVECCHIO-VAN SICKLER
Published November 26, 2005

TAMPA - At the airport in San Juan, Puerto Rico, Hillsborough sheriff's Det. Manrique Diaz finally met the man who had eluded federal and local authorities for so long.

Hector Luis Cardenas, wanted in Tampa for several armed robberies, smirked as he was escorted in handcuffs onto the plane bound for Miami, Diaz remembers.

"Are you the one who found me?" asked Cardenas, 31.

Yes, Diaz replied.

"You know, you never would have found me if I was still on the street," Cardenas bragged.

"You're probably right," Diaz conceded.

Cardenas had long ago proven his elusiveness and cunning.

Nine years ago in Tampa, he slipped out the Morgan Street jail using the plastic picture ID of a lookalike fellow inmate who had just posted bond, according to sheriff's investigators.

Cardenas rattled off the other inmate's name, age, Social Security number and mother's maiden name for guards processing his release.

An hour later, jail administrators realized Cardenas had duped them.

Two years later, in Puerto Rico, authorities jailed a man who called himself Alexandro Agosto Ramos. He had held up a Burger King near San Juan.

He was 5-foot-6, with black hair and brown eyes. He had a mole on his left cheek.

The guards at Guayama Prison Camp considered him arrogant.

He would escape them once before coming back to serve a more than 10-year sentence.

He served it in style. With thousands of dollars in his commissary fund, he bragged that he could easily bribe guards. Already, he had a cell phone in his cell. And a Sony Playstation.

His first chance for parole would come in June 2006. Waiting on the outside were a woman, children, a Mercedes and a liquor store, all part of the life he had built since 1996.

But from 1,247 miles away, a Hillsborough sheriff's detective was closing in.

Hector Luis Cardenas and his family moved to Hillsborough County from Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico, when he was a child.

By age 14, Cardenas was getting into trouble with the law, Diaz said.

At 17, he was sentenced as an adult to house arrest plus probation for burglary and credit card fraud, according to state criminal records.

Subsequent armed robbery arrests were either dismissed, or he was acquitted.

"Hector has always been a pretty slick guy," Diaz said. "Very street smart. He knows the system."

He wasn't so lucky on Aug. 7, 1996.

Shortly before 5 a.m., a man armed with a Crossman Airgun used a hammer to smash the front door of Joy Food Store, 1907 N Himes Ave. The robber pistol-whipped the clerk in the face. He ordered her to the ground, took cash and fled.

Tampa police caught up to Cardenas 13 minutes later at the corner of Glen Avenue and Chestnut Street and charged him in the robbery.

Cardenas later told Tampa Police Det. Gerard Clark that he and an accomplice pulled off eight armed robberies at convenience stores and fast food chains during the previous six months - taking as much as $4,900 at a time.

They wore gloves to hide their fingerprints and a Ronald Reagan mask to hide their faces, Cardenas told Clark. One acted as the robber. The other was a lookout and getaway driver.

Cardenas, a locksmith living in Riverview, was booked into the Morgan Street jail on eight counts of robbery, one count of armed kidnapping and five counts of being a felon in possession of a firearm.

If convicted on all felony counts, he faced decades in prison.

Inside his cell block, Cardenas met Vincent Macaluso, who was jailed on charges including armed kidnapping, vehicle theft and robbery.

Macaluso was 28 years old, was 5-foot-8 and about 160 pounds. He had short hair and a mustache. Cardenas was six years younger, 30 pounds heavier and a couple of inches shorter. His hair was full on top, accentuating his pointy ears. And he had a distinct mole on his left cheek.

Still, Cardenas saw an opportunity, detectives say.

He dropped weight, cut his hair and grew a mustache like Macaluso's. Then he waited.

On Nov. 5, 1996, Big John's Bail Bonds posted Macaluso's bail. Investigators still aren't sure quite how the exchange went, but Cardenas somehow got Macaluso's picture ID bracelet.

Posing as Macaluso, Cardenas walked out of the Morgan Street jail. It was 8:38 p.m.

At 9:30 p.m., Macaluso's bondsman called to ask why his client was still in jail.

Sheriff's investigators realized they had let the wrong man go.

Cardenas was already on his way to a new life.

There were rumors that Cardenas was back in Puerto Rico, living under the protection of an uncle who worked in law enforcement there. But investigators could never prove it.

Weeks turned into months and years.

Hector Luis Cardenas had vanished.

In January 2005, sheriff's officials told Diaz to revive the case.

Diaz, also a native of Puerto Rico, went through old arrest reports. He reviewed Cardenas' family history. He spoke with the original detectives and detention deputies.

In March, he enlisted the Tampa office of the U.S. Marshals Service. Marshals Lisa Alfonso and Miguel Vasquez agreed to help. They contacted the Puerto Rico Department of Justice's Interpol division.

For more than three weeks, Interpol agents set up surveillance of Cardenas' sister, Milagnia Cardenas, who lived in an apartment in Toa Baja.

Finally they pulled her over in traffic and questioned her.

She denied knowing her brother's whereabouts.

"As far as I know," she said dismissively, "he's in prison."

Prison, Diaz thought. Maybe Cardenas has been there all along.

He sent copies of Cardenas' fingerprints to agents in Puerto Rico. Agents compared the prints to those of inmates on the island.

They got what seemed like a match. But the prints belonged to a Guayama Prison Camp inmate named Ramos.

An agent called Diaz and told him about the hit. The name sounded familiar. Diaz checked his case file. He saw that Cardenas had a brother named Alexander Agosto Ramos, who was living in Tarpon Springs.

Puerto Rico officials went to Guayama and looked at the inmate named Ramos. They saw the mole on the left cheek, the pointed ears.

It was Cardenas.

His ruse was over.

Earlier this month, Diaz escorted Cardenas back to Tampa.

Cardenas was genial, charming and braggadocios, Diaz said. Just like other detectives said he would be.

Diaz let Cardenas talk, drawing out details of his nine years on the lam.

Cardenas said he paid someone $100 to buy a one-way ticket to Puerto Rico within hours of his escape, Diaz said. The acquaintance went to Tampa International Airport and went through the boarding process, then handed the boarding pass over to Cardenas. Such things were possible nine years ago.

In leaving Tampa, Cardenas left behind a toddler son and a wife who would get the courts to grant a divorce two years later.

Cardenas told Diaz he took his brother's name, joined the Puerto Rico National Guard, got married, and opened a liquor store. He bragged that he once had three women pregnant at the same time, Diaz said.

Cardenas told Diaz he isn't worried about the punishment he faces back in Tampa.

"He's saying the escape is the Sheriff's Office's fault," Diaz said.

Last week, Cardenas went before Hillsborough Circuit Judge Lamar Battles on the escape charge.

The judge asked for Cardenas' plea.

"Not guilty," Cardenas told his public defender.

Then Cardenas looked around the courtroom and smiled.

Shannon Colavecchio-Van Sickler can be reached at 813 226-3373 or svansickler@sptimes.com

[Last modified November 26, 2005, 19:59:02]