Pain & Gain

They were local bodybuilders with a penchant for steroids, strippers, and quick cash. And they became expert in the use of a peculiar motivational tool: Torture.

Schiller desperately wanted to be able to see again. He could no longer picture his wife or his children. He had tried. Nothing.

In his despair he also knew the airplane story was bullshit. One of his last scripted calls had been to Gene Rosen, his attorney. He'd had to tell Rosen he'd granted power of attorney to Jorge Delgado for the purposes of negotiating the sale of the deli. And Delgado had gone to Rosen's office to get the paperwork. There was no way now, Schiller knew, he'd get out of this alive. But the gang went ahead with the pretense: They put in a final call to Colombia. He was to tell his wife he'd wrapped things up and would be joining the family in a few days. Diana unexpectedly put five-year-old David on the phone. The boy wanted to know when his father was coming home. He missed his daddy. Hearing his son's voice devastated Schiller. Soon, he told him, knowing he was telling a lie.

On December 14, 1994, the last full day of his captivity, Lugo ordered Schiller to wash down sleeping pills in the river of alcohol that streamed into his stomach. When he resisted, his captors stuck the pharmaceutical olives into a giant Schiller martini. They wanted his transformation from teetotaler and family man to suicidal flameout who'd ruined everything in a midlife crisis, to be complete. In just one month he'd lost family, business, his house, and investments -- all over a hot young babe.

Remains of Schiller's vehicle: A drunken driver, an immobile object, a splash of gasoline
Remains of Schiller's vehicle: A drunken driver, an immobile object, a splash of gasoline
Private investigator Ed Du Bois thought he'd heard it all
Private investigator Ed Du Bois thought he'd heard it all

In the very early morning of December 15, Schiller sat chained on a chair. He knew he was about to be killed. Once again he got inebriated on command. He grew dizzy and toppled to the warehouse floor. Barely conscious, he heard laughter. Then ... nothing. Boss unchained him, picked him up, and threw him against a wall.

At 2:30 that morning, after three days of forced drinking, an unconscious Schiller was tossed into the passenger seat of his 4Runner. Lugo drove while Weekes and Doorbal followed in the Camry. They'd picked a crash site in the warehouse/retail district three blocks south of Schlotzsky's. When they reached the spot, they strapped Schiller into the driver's seat. Lugo moved to the passenger side, stomped on the gas pedal, and steered the vehicle toward a concrete utility pole. Just before the collision, he jumped out. When they ran up to inspect the wreckage, they found Schiller in the driver's seat, alive but still unconscious.

Lugo splashed gasoline over him, then around the interior of the 4Runner, and lit a blaze with the Sharper Image lighter. Once the fire got going, the portable barbecue propane tank they'd added for good measure would explode. But as they were pulling away in the Camry -- incredible! -- they saw Schiller open the door and climb out of the 4Runner.

Carl Weekes was still driving the Camry. "Get him! Get him!" yelled Lugo and Doorbal between bouts of laughter. But the staggering, reeling Schiller was no easy target to hit. Weekes missed at first, and the pursuit became a slow, grim pas de deux between the car and the lurching victim. Weekes finally nailed him with the front grille. Schiller bounced onto the hood and flew off. Weekes began to drive away, but Lugo and Doorbal yelled, "No! No! Go back! Run him over! Run him over!" Weekes turned the car around and ran him over. Do it again, they screamed, but Weekes saw the approaching headlights of another car. He hit the gas and they sped off. Schiller lay on the ground as the 4Runner was engulfed in flames.

Later that afternoon Lugo summoned Delgado to the warehouse and told him they'd killed Schiller in the staged crash. There'd been just one hitch, he said: They had to run Schiller over -- twice. The news irritated Delgado. They'd had numerous discussions about the best way to kill Schiller, and this wasn't his choice. He'd argued that they should kill Schiller first, put him behind the wheel of his car, and dump the car somewhere. (Taking up that theory, Doorbal had volunteered to strangle him. The best way to do it, he would say, was to drive your thumbs into the Adam's apple.) But Lugo favored a staged crash because the body would be discovered quickly. He wanted the millions in insurance money right away. If you dumped the car in a canal, it might take days or even weeks longer to find the body.

To allay Delgado's concerns, Lugo showed him the damaged Camry. He pointed out the dents in the hood and the left front fender. "Don't you think this kind of damage would have killed somebody?" he asked.

"No," said Delgado.

December 16, 1994.

Miami private investigator Ed Du Bois, the National Football League's investigator and security consultant in South Florida, sat in his office reviewing security procedures for the upcoming Super Bowl XXIX. Du Bois coordinated with law-enforcement agencies to provide safety for the dignitaries, politicians, and celebrities who would attend the festivities.

Du Bois headed Investigators, Inc., the oldest detective agency in Florida. It was a family business; his father, a former FBI agent, started the firm in 1955, and Du Bois had begun his own investigative career in 1960 as a high school intern there. He graduated from Florida State University in 1966, then enlisted in the air force.

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My Voice Nation Help

 what about the wives and girlfriends ( Lucretia Goodridge
 , are you honestly going to act like you didn't know your husband and father of your kids  was  sleeping with strippers and a murderer and your own cousin  Doorbal is living in your house, even after you see a guy getting tortured for days, and calling yourself a Buddhist and not reporting that .. i guess you enjoyed the finer things in life alil too much ,, some things never change .......       horrible to make a movie to desensitize the reality of these victims pain and their kids really do not deserve this.. i hope someone gets hit with a lawsuit.. and the actors    dont you guys know how to thk for yourself ..   or are just acting like mindless assholes did you read the court docs? smh  


wow....unbelievable true story, these guys who did this have frontal lobe brain damage! they must have because nobody with a conscious would ever dream of this scheme, and its a pure miracle schiller survived, but death for them is too easy, they should not die, they should be tortured every single day with huge "real" sex toys, dying would be too easy, too nice for them.




Mese was one of my patients years ago when I worked in the Prison as a nurse. Since I left, Mese died in prison.


i hope they get the needle before the movie comes out , sun gym and its employees were scum ....

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