When a con artist builds and tends a Ponzi scheme, he must sometimes long for a partner in crime. He must wish there was someone he could trust with everything – a person with whom he could talk freely. A strategist, a confidant. A brother.
R. Allen Stanford, who’s accused of orchestrating a multi-billion Ponzi scheme, may have had such a person. According to his CFO and long-time friend, Stanford sealed his arrangement with a regulator of his Antigua bank by becoming his blood brother, reports The New York Times. In a plea agreement, James M. Davis said that Stanford and the bank supervisor, Leroy King, cut their wrists and mixed their blood as part of a “brotherhood ceremony.” From that point on, King allegedly referred to Stanford as “Big Brother” and enjoyed gifts of fraternity, including tickets to the Super Bowl.
None of our inductees have engaged in this form of strange Boy Scout ritual — but we do have a handful of crooked families. The existence of con teams of siblings, cousins, and fathers and sons makes obvious sense: they share values and know each other well enough to cover any weak spots. Then there’s the trust issue. It’s a dangerous move to bring others into a con. And blood is thicker than water…
In the 1980s, the Antar family ran a booming, efficient con with Crazy Eddie – a popular chain of electronics stores that used phony inventory to bilk shareholders of millions. Eddie Antar, who founded the Crazy Eddie empire, worked alongside his closest relatives. That is, until the con imploded. As the cash flow dried up, a bitter feud divided the family and Eddie’s two brothers and father either resigned or were fired. Eddie went on the lam to escape arrest; extradited from Israel, he was sentenced to 12+ years – in part based on the testimony of Sam Antar, his cousin and former accountant.
The Rastogi brothers ran an international con by dealing in non-existent metal trades. Narendra managed business in the U.S., while his younger brother, Virendra, kept the money flowing from his base in London. A misdirected fax, which an employee in Hong Kong accidentally sent to an auditor, sealed the fate of the Rastogis. As part of his plea bargain, Narendra named his brother as co-conspirator.
Then there’s John Rigas, our patriarch of fraud. He founded Adelphia Communications in 1952. By the late 1990s, Rigas and his two sons ran the sixth largest cable operator in the U.S. Adelphia was also something of a piggy bank for Rigas, who took out sizable “loans” to invest in golf courses and luxury condos. In 2005, the elderly Rigas was sentenced to 15 years. His son and former CFO, Timothy, got 17 years.
So: is blood thicker than water? Can a con artist trust anyone? And: if we’re missing any con artist families or “blood brothers,” please nominate a team to the Hall of Infamy.
A con artist is a menace to the gullible and foolhardy. His only interest is in collecting cash; he doesn’t care about his victims or worry about the moment when they discover they’ve lost everything. The worst of these rotten apples are the con artists who prey on the most vulnerable and develop phony friendships with their victims. To me, these types are even worse than the fat cats of Enron – executives whose greed and senses of entitlement were off-the-charts.
For example, take the two scoundrel brokers who were barred from the Financial Industry Regulatory Authority (FINRA) on Aug. 31. First, there’s Oren Eugene Sullivan, Jr., of Rock Hill, SC, who allegedly ran a $3.7 million Ponzi scheme for 20 years. According to the FINRA press release, his more than 30 clients include: 15 widows, two people who had Alzheimer’s, and an individual with a developmental impairment. Many of the victims “considered Sullivan a close family friend,” reads the release.
A second broker was barred: William Walter Spencer, Sr., of Franklin, TN. For his part, Spencer allegedly “borrowed” about $2 million from members of his church, many of them elderly and all of them individuals of modest means. One of his victims is said to be a 62-year-old who drove a school bus for children with special needs; after her husband’s death, she regrettably loaned Spencer $60,000.
How could a person do such a thing?
Amongst our infamous gallery of con artists, there are a few who seem especially cold-hearted. Take Gerald Payne, who the judge called a “wolf in sheep’s clothing.” He earned that title by preying on the religious faith of his victims, bilking them of their savings to bulk up his wallet.
Then there’s the most infamous of our inductees: Bernie Madoff. The size and reach of his con, and the way he had everyone fooled for so long, touches off a singular rage. Before his sentencing, I mentioned his name to an acquaintance; this calm and cheerful man declared that Madoff should be “guillotined on Madison Avenue.” He said it without a smile (as if he meant it).
Have you read about a con artist who shocked you with his amorality? We’re looking ahead to the next batch of inductees and would love to hear from you. Please nominate a con artist to the Hall of Infamy.
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