A noni is not
always a noni. It may look like a noni. It may even smell like
a noni. But as long as it doesn't taste like a noni or break
like a noni, it certainly is not a noni.
The same
applies to investments. Who wouldn't like to retire to his own
Caribbean beachfront paradise? Build his dream house next to
the marina and make lots of tax-free money with medicinal fruit
in the process? Sounds like a perfect deal, right? Well, not
quite. Because it may look like a good deal and even smell like
a good deal, but as long as it doesn't taste like a good deal
nor breaks like a good deal, it is simply not a good deal.
It started with
an email. An Irishman wrote me that he wanted to discuss
investing in Panama with me. The next day, I showed up at the
hotel where he was staying, and it turned out he was not alone
but had brought a friend, an older man who walked with a stick.
We sat down and ordered coffee. Within minutes, I was listening
to one of the wildest stories I had heard for quite some time.
The two gentlemen, who were from the US, weren't looking for
investment opportunities. They had been chasing a man, a man
who
had defrauded them of about a million dollars three years back
in Costa Rica. He had sold them "sugar bonds" and
other investment vehicles that later turned out not to exist.
"We were the typical bushy-tailed, bright-eyed, innocent
and naive Americans that fell for his enthusiasm and smart
sales
talk," one of the gentlemen explained. "He told us
how
he was going to make us rich, 'you sign the check and let me do
the rest,' and we believed him."
The man, Ian
Calvert Bleasdale, did not make his clients rich however. He
took the money and ran. He ran away from fraud charges brought
against him and child sex abuse charges filed by his wife.
Child
sex abuse had been like a red line throughout his career of
fraud and embezzlement. The two victims that I was now
listening
to in the lobby of this hotel had decided not to let him get
away with it. They tracked him down through Mexico and Brazil,
and finally found him in Panama. "He continued his
pedophile activities here and frequented parties of Madam
Tonya.
That's how we found him; through one of the girls that worked
for her." It took several weeks before they were able to
make a positive identification. When they had, Bleasdale one
morning showed up at his work and was suddenly grabbed by the
two victims. "He started to fight, that's why I'm now
walking with a stick," said the oldest man. The fighting
and screaming caused an uproar in the classy neighborhood, and
soon the police arrived at the scene. They were shown the
arrest
warrants and Interpol documents by my two new friends and
Bleasdale was arrested and deported to Costa Rica the next
day.
"Where did
you find him?" I asked.
"He worked
for a company called San Cristobal," the youngest man
replied, "he was their sales director. He didn't use his
own name, in Panama he was Ian Calvert."
I remembered
him. I met this Calvert once at a party, and he struck me as an
overly enthusiast Bruit who was going on and on about how he
could make me and everybody else rich with noni farms he was
selling. "You just lean back and let us do the work,"
he proclaimed. He even invited me for lunch to discuss how he
"could set me up in this paradise called Panama." I
thought he was crazy and never went to have lunch with him. And
now I was sitting here with two men that had simply picked him
up from the street and handed him to the police.
But how could a
wanted fugitive be working for a company under a fake name,
when
he wasn't even able to renew his passport? What was this
company
called San Cristobal, and who were its principals? Intrigued by
everything I heard, I started to investigate.
Founder of San
Cristobal is a Tom McMurrain, a US citizen who came to Panama a
couple of years ago. The biography that is sent out to clients
portrays him as a businessman with a "successful track
record" of corporate glory. The bio further boasts that
his
"several start-up enterprises and cutting-edge concepts
and
marketing strategies have consistently been proven money makers
over time."
San Cristobal
offers its clients an investment opportunity to feast upon. For
prices ranging from $71,000 to $126,000, they sell you
beachfront land in Bocas del Toro. They plant 50 percent of the
land with tropical hardwood trees, mainly teak, and the other
50
percent with noni. The hardwood is cut and sold after 20 to 25
years. In the meantime, the noni generates residual income, tax
free, because noni is a hot product that sells for good prices.
Being a reforestation investment, investors can get residency
in
Panama. A variety of real estate websites promotes the
investment to the public. Prospective investors visit Panama on
organized tours and sign a purchase contract one after the
other. "The best retirement investment I've seen in 20
years!" exclaims one advertorial on one of these sites.
And
it indeed looks like a good deal. It even smells like a good
deal --- until you look a little further.
"You're
looking into San Cristobal? Be careful with these people,"
says a lawyer who wishes to remain anonymous. "I don't
even
want to represent clients that invest with them."
"Tom
McMurrain? He really should be stopped and arrested," says
a hotel manager who wishes to remain anonymous. "He stole
a
lot of money from a lot of people."
"It's not
that he stole those millions, it's how he did it and the fact
that he got away with it," says a victim of McMurrain who
lost over a million dollars. "He pretended to be a friend,
we invited him in our homes. He appears bright, smart, great
ideas, fun to be with. And then he took the money and
ran."
"It was
one
of the most painful periods of my life. I'd rather not think
about it any more," says his former bookkeeper. "He
let me take the fall for his crimes."
"Tom
McMurrain. Ask around about Magna Societal here in Panama. I
can't tell you anything further," writes somebody to me,
anonymously.
Prince Noni and the Principality of
Magna
So I went to
ask
around. It quickly became clear that San Cristobal was not the
beginning of Tom McMurrain's "successful track
record"
in Panama. I found two promotional emails for an investment MLM
type scheme called "Magna Societal." Tom McMurrain,
as
it becomes clear from the promotion, came to Panama with a
dream. He wanted to buy an island. He wanted to declare
independence. He was the man that would be king. Or prince,
because the independent island would be called the
"Principality of Magna," and it would be a haven for
Internet offshore banking as it would be founded "on top
of
several Internet backbones," it would have "virtual
residence" and loads of money making time share
opportunities. "The Benefits of Magna: No Debt, No Taxes,
No Trade Restrictions, No Restrictions of God Given Human
Rights... No Limits!," says one promotional email, in
which
Magna also claims to have more than 1,000 "web fluent
members" and pays $500 to everyone bringing a new member
in. "Members are able to participate in a tremendous
income
opportunity and will have the option in the future to purchase
virtual residences with time-share options or own actual
physical homes complete with residency status," reads the
email, before it enters into the mysterious phrase "We are
building a physical and virtual community on the natural
resources of ones and zeros."
"It just
went away," says one source who did some business with
McMurrain in his first year in Panama, "but a lot of
people
put money in it and of course never saw it back."
The Internet
domains that were used for Magna Societal are all registered in
the name of Tom McMurrain. When he started San Cristobal, the
email domains and servers where the same, just like the toll-
free US phone number that San Cristobal uses. Magna was gone,
but McMurrain's dream of running his own fiefdom had not lost
its spirit, and he now set out to take over Bocas del Toro.
Tom McMurrain and his noni gangsters
Everybody I
talked to who had met McMurrain at one point mentioned his
goons.
McMurrain,
settling down in Bocas del Toro, hired some local toughs who
act
as his bodyguards, steer his boat, and show prospects around.
When stories began to reach me about McMurrain and his gang
selling cocaine, I decided to look further into his team. And
some private army it turned out to be.
Prospective
investors are being handled by, according to documents obtained
from the police in Bocas del Toro, known criminals like Aurelio
Pomares, alias "Fats," whom the police allege has
been
involved in cases of counterfeiting, threatening with firearms
and drug dealing; Jim Smith Yessy, alias "Yimi",
another alleged drug dealer; Alex Hansell, alias
"Bobon," and other characters who go by names
like"Big Yans" and "Mollo".
They're all
hired by a McMurrain company called "Patrulla Angel"
(Angel Patrol), which purports to be a private security outfit.
They drive around in a Land Rover with dark windows, providing
them with cover and mobility to realize sales of drugs, the
police report alleges. "We're scared of them," say
many Bocas inhabitants and entrepreneurs.
Rumpelstiltskin
Soon after I
started my inquiries into San Cristobal, a mysterious source
entered the scene, whom we'll call Rumpelstiltskin. Like his
counterpart in the famous fairy tale, Rumpelstiltskin operated
hidden away, being able to see all but not to be seen, like a
fly on the wall, a hidden camera behind a mirror. And
Rumpelstiltskin began to give me stuff. Emails and documents,
print-outs, discs, messages, and lots of it. Genuine inside
material from San Cristobal, that painted a devastating picture
about the way the company is run, how clients are routinely
lied
to, how money disappears and clients have difficulty to get
their deposits back, the messy situation with land titles and
the clearing and planting of the sold properties, and so forth.
While my hard disc and desk drawers began to fill up, I plowed
through the enormous amount of material.
Your title is in the mail!
The innocent
people that buy into the San Cristobal scheme are promised land
titles for their property. They need a title, because without a
title, the reforestation will not be recognized with a
reforestation certificate and investors can not apply for
residency or tax benefits. San Cristobal is very creative in
their terminology where it comes to land titles. One email send
out to prospective clients talks about "free-titled
waterfront land," whereas an other one mentions that
investors will receive a "Free simple title to your
property titled to the corporation (or any name that you
desire)."
However, the
land that San Cristobal sells is so-called "right of
possession" land. It is possible to get titles on it, but
it's not guaranteed, and it can be a slow process. How San
Cristobal can promise their investors reforestation
certificates
and to handle all the residency paperwork without a guaranteed
title remains unclear. Why the land was not titled before
selling it on to investors is another question that has so far
not been answered. This doesn't stop San Cristobal from making
promise after promise to its clients. "We sent some three
titled land plantations out today, just missing the internal
lines by the surveyors, which also are then registered. Will
ask
Barry for time on your land for title," writes San
Cristobal to a worried client, "We are working hard for
you." But not hard enough, apparently, because almost two
months later, the client still has no title to his property.
It''s just of many examples. "Keep smiling," is the
advice that San Cristobal ends one of these emails with.
Contrary to the
promises made to investors, internally the people of San
Cristobal are well aware of the true situation with the land
titles. "There are no titles, and you know it,"
writes
Barry Miller, one of the principals and a US lawyer, to one of
the sales people. It does not have any effect: the promises
continue. Writes one desperate investor: "At the moment,
from the point of view of my assets, I have $106,000 missing
from my cash and no piece of paper to say that I own something
in return!"
Another angry
investor loses his patience and writes: "I have requested
a
map of the property set aside for us several times and have
received nothing. After five months, "surely" the
surveying in that area has been done and you can show us on
paper what we have purchased. (Correction: what we are
"trying" to purchase.) We will need to have some kind
of map in order to close."
The only land
title I have seen so far is a document that titles 30 hectares
in the name of San Cristobal. The document was obtained in
April
and was quickly sent to a client that wanted money back because
the promises had not been met.
But investors,
according to San Cristobal, need not worry. In an email full of
mumbo jumbo about how these investments are going to prosper
and
noni is THE future crop to make cash, Tom McMurrain, after
having made clear that he needs the outstanding balance to be
paid, concludes: "M, everyday I wake up I move with a goal
to get your principal back to you within three to five years. I
have a lot of horsepower behind what you are investing in. I am
sure you will appreciate it when the time comes."
Your property, a garden paradise!
A similar
chaotic situation exists in the clearing and planting of the
properties. Yet again, the correspondence with clients shows a
pattern of dubious claims as to the status of their property.
Clients want to see pictures of their property planted with
noni
and teak, and get replies like "I thought Tom had sent you
both an update and your pictures. He is in Bocas today, will
check with him and you will have both. I saw the pictures, just
beautiful, like a garden paradise. Relax stay tuned, am on top
of it for you," and again, months later, there are still
no
pictures, nothing that proves San Cristobal's claim that
"all plantations are fully cleared and planted within
three
months of full payment received."
The clearing is
a whole story in itself. A lot of hectares that have been
acquired by San Cristobal consist of deserted cacao
plantations.
Cacao grows on trees. After having been abandoned many years
ago, the plantations have become a forest. This cacao trees are
now being cut by San Cristobal to plant hardwood trees. Cutting
forest to reforest is an environmental crime in Panama, but
ANAM
so far has not intervened. "They're clearing the land with
chainsaws," says one witness from Bocas del Toro.
"How can
investors ever get a reforestation certificate based on
this?," I ask a lawyer. "They can't," is his
reply, "ANAM will never approve of these
practices."
Money grows on trees!
Other San
Cristobal literature talks about "our reforestation
experts," and their advertorials claim that a teak tree
values about $2,500 and this will increase with 6 percent
annually. The "reforestation experts," who are not
named on the website nor anywhere else, don't appear to be very
knowledgeable about teak trees. "A cubic meter of old
plantation teak at the moment values about $800," say the
experts of Futuro Forestal, one of the highest regarded
reforestation companies in Latin America. "If, and only if
a 25-year-old tree has a volume of a cubic meter, it will
probably bring $2,500 after 30 to 40 years, and then this six
percent is already incorporated in that amount, so they are
just
telling investors pure nonsense." The whole issue of the
current and future value of teak trees appears academical
anyway, because Futuro Forestal continues: "planting teak
in Bocas is a bad idea. To become dense, hardwood needs a real
dry season, and in Bocas it simply rains too much. Another
problem is fungi that attack the roots, and can cause the trees
to fall down when they're 10 to 12 years old because the roots
can't support them."
Well, that
would
at least save investors the cost of cutting their trees,
something else San Cristobal forgets to calculate. Various
sources in Bocas confirm that the local teak is of poor
quality.
"It just cracks from the inside," says a woman who
worked in the timber industry in the US, "and it rots away
within three years, while teak is supposed to last
forever."
San Cristobal
knows that teak won't grow well in Bocas, but they're planting
it anyway. "You are right in the fact that the climate in
Bocas del Toro is tropical wet climate all year round, and
maybe
not be the perfect one for teak," writes San Cristobal to
an inquiring client. However, they continue, "we have a
five year old teak farm in the area as a referral and this Teak
is of good quality." But, according to the Futuro Forestal
experts, five years is far too early to judge the quality of
trees that are only cut fifteen years later at the earliest.
Another example of the San Cristobal "experts'"
amateurishness is their claim that "another fact is that
the terrain we use has slopes so the drainage is very good and
a
surplus of rainfall does not do damage to the Teak."
Drainage is the ability of the soil to absorb water, and has
nothing to do with slopes. "It shows you they have no idea
what they're doing at San Cristobal," says Futuro
Forestal,
"teak is a high erosion species, up to 80 tons per hectare
may wash away if you plant teak on slopes. The soil washes into
the sea where it causes damage to the coral reefs. The trees
will stop growing after 15 years because they don't have any
food left. To invest in this you must have no forestry
knowledge
and be stupid enough not to ask someone who has."
The
agricultural
horror doesn't stop with the teak. The noni harvest and sales
is
another subject that is eagerly used by San Cristobal to lure
investors into parting with their money. Emails talk about an
"emerging holistic cash crop" and prices are quoted
for which the investors' nonis are sold ranging from 20¢
to
$1.50 per pound. A short visit to the Machetazo reveals that
investors would be far better off buying nonis there and
reselling them to San Cristobal for the high prices they quote.
McMurrain, in one email to a US attorney, states that "we
are currently selling about 6,000 pounds a week at about
50¢ per pound. We expect a higher price when we can sign a
contract with a bigger company." However, in the same
month, January of this year, Tom Rowley, the company
accountant,
in another email, refers to noni being sold at 20¢ per
pound. The reality is that nobody at San Cristobal knows what
noni is really worth. At the end of January, Tom Rowley writes
that the Bocas noni still needs to be tested for export
purposes, while the whole company seems to be struggling with
how to send just one gallon of sample noni juice to the US.
Your funds are safe with us!
"We
provide
a complete escrow sales process utilizing a 30 year bar
licensed
US Attorney that ensures that you get exactly what you pay
for," writes San Cristobal proudly in yet another email to
a possible investor. Again, this is a misrepresentation.
Escrow,
by definition, is an arrangement in which funds are held with
an
escrow agent who is independent from two parties doing
business.
The money is released only if preset conditions have been met.
In the US, there are rules for lawyers acting as escrow agents.
In Panama, you need a trust license. On the 20th of February
2002, two companies were set up in Panama: "San Cristobal
Land Management" and "Republic Escrow Services".
Both have the same board of directors, the same subscribers,
the
same registered agent --- everything was the same. They are
what
you would call sister companies. However, Republic acts as
escrow agent for San Cristobal. What's more, clients putting
money in escrow with the 30-year bar-licensed US attorney, one
Michael Pierce, are asked to wire the money to this gentleman's
bank account in Panama. The whole set-up --- no license, no
independence from one party to the business deals --- is a
disaster waiting to happen, and, reading through the material
Rumpelstiltskin sent me, it seems that disaster has
happened.
Michael Pierce
accepts funds from a client. When the pre-agreed conditions
have
not been met, the client wants his money back. This, however,
is
a problem. The money is no longer there. It's gone, spent on
who
knows what. But Pierce has a problem because the client starts
to get angry. He threatens to file a complaint with the bar
association. "This could destroy my career!" writes a
panicky Michael Pierce. "Please give me some more
time."
Pierce turns to
San Cristobal for help. He tells them he tried to sell his
shipping container with liquor, which is worth $45,000, but he
has not found a buyer yet. He promises to do anything if they
will just help him save his career. They can have his domain
Latinlaw.com, he'll bring clients, whatever, but just advance
the $6,000 this client is owed. It's a disaster that needs to
be
"headed off," agrees Barry Miller, principal and
lawyer for San Cristobal. Apparently, something is worked out
and after many months of waiting, the client finally gets his
money back.
"We own the fucking cookie jar!
"
One of the most
shocking documents I received was an internal memo of Tom
McMurrain to his colleagues about a fund San Cristobal has set
up to raise money under the pretext of financing land
acquisition. In reality, according to McMurrain's memo, the
fund
needs to raise money to save San Cristobal from collapse. Maybe
some people believe that acquisition of land is a major
operation cost for a company like San Cristobal. It's not.
They're
currently developing in Palmira, which is close to the San Blas
in Panama on the Caribbean coast. If you check in the area
which
is closest to Palmira but still accessible by car, a place
called Cuango, you'll find a hectare doing between $650 and
$900, and that's beachfront. So, with normal operating costs
and
even allowing for expensive clearing and planting, there should
be enough money available to buy new land.
The fund, it
becomes clear in the document, is in reality not about raising
money to buy land, it's about raising money to keep SCLD afloat
and its principals comfortable. SCLD should come first,
according to McMurrain, because it is "our bread and
butter." He also orders to pump up cost and fees, because
investors have no idea anyway about the real figures: "Do
produce a document that shows a higher level of fees because
none of our customers have ever done what we are doing
therefore
we are foolish to assume they are intimate with our
expenses," he writes. He compares buying and clearing and
planting land in Panama with prices in Georgia: "We should
justify a higher cost simply by getting a higher appraisal from
an "ethical" Panamanian property appraiser, WE MUST
REMEMBER THAT IN GEORGIA PLANTATION LAND IS MINIMUM $1,000 and
Acre... by the way planting and clearing cost are greater than
700 per acre in Georgia as well. Do not ASSUME that a client
knows our true expenses... and even if we get challenged we can
blow the acquisition out of the water simply by stating the
obvious comparatives," writes McMurrain. He is worried
about the vacations, the boats and other goodies that SCLD has
provided them with, as he types: "It is important that
this
fund save SCLD from collapse. SCLD has bought cars, boats,
property, a good holiday, some vacation time, some home buying
(and saving) opportunities and some good entertainment and good
meals."
McMurrain wants
to be in full control of the money, because, as he puts it:
"We own the fucking cookie jar!" What he proposes is
in fact a swindle to raise money under false pretenses, siphon
it out of the fund and out of shareholder's reach and use the
money for purposes other than those investors are led to
believe.
McMurrain
owning
the cookie jar is consistent with prosecutors' allegations
about
his "successful track record" in the United States.
The only difference, it seems, is that he has yet to run with
the money.
But at this
point in my investigation, I wasn't aware of that. I needed to
find out more about McMurrain.
Looking into
McMurrain's background and history quickly landed me in the
middle of a war with San Cristobal's principals.
The noni tubbies
To get people
to
feed me with more information, I decided to post some of my
findings about San Cristobal on a message board on the
Internet,
and this immediately caught the attention of clients,
prospects,
business relations and San Cristobal itself. While some people
contacted me with their stories, San Cristobal set out to start
its own campaign. Their first move was that Tom Lennon, one of
the principals and a friend of Tom McMurrain, contacted me
posing as a prospect that was now worried about the investment
he was about to make. Pretending to be a Mr. Finlay, he
wondered
what information I had for him? Quickly, and with help from
Rumpelstiltskin, I found out that "Mr. Finlay" was
forwarding all our correspondence to San Cristobal's directors.
When he accidentally signed with his own initials,
"TPL," I knew immediately that it was in reality Tom
Lennon. I wrote him this, asking if this was his idea of a PR
strategy, and he replied by threatening me, while at the same
time asking me not to publish any of those threats on a message
board. I published it immediately, and this lead quickly to
another battle with San Cristobal. Tom Lennon proceeded to buy
the domain name "OkkeOrnstein.com" and posted a lot
of
nonsense about me under other pen names. Barry Miller, the San
Cristobal attorney, threatened to sue me if I continued to
publish on the Internet, and told me he would eat me in
court.
Meanwhile, some
of the business associates of San Cristobal began to distance
themselves from the wonderful world of noni and teak. Lyle
Burke, the principal of the Tropical Pathways real estate firm,
wrote that "I have reached a point where I can no longer
support and defend your project in the face of such a hostile
environment on the ground in Panama --- I have tried several
options in an attempt to minimize exposure to the negative
aspects, particularly in Bocas. I keep hearing and having to
defend the same issues repeatedly and no longer feel that I can
so."
Tom McMurrain,
forwarding the message to his colleagues, comments that "I
am imagining that the professionals that Lyle has surrounded
himself with have paid him at least $25,000 each? He just lost
his bread and butter. When he comes back crawling I believe his
commission will be greatly reduced. HE CAN"T STAND THE
HEAT."
Another good
example of the nice way San Cristobal treats its resellers is
the way they discuss payment of a commission to Saskia Delic, a
Dutch woman who runs a real estate company called
Happywhale.com. In an email to Tom McMurrain discussing
payments
that need to be made, Tom Rowley, the company accountant, asks
how they can stall this payment: "and now Saskia is
DEMANDING immediate payment of $15,000 commission she says you
promised her would be paid on April first. She's being pissy
about even waiting for the three days to transfer our money to
BN etc. as per the emails back and forth which I've copied to
you. Which legitimate bills which are due and payable do you
suggest I defer to pay this commission? And what about the
charges at the Swans Cay hotel for her, which I haven't seen
yet, are they part of her commission or just a gift?" At
the time of this story going to press, the commission still had
not been paid.
A Dutch
company,
the "Morinda Investment Group" that was in the
advanced stages of setting up a business deal with San
Cristobal, backed away from San Cristobal stating that
"The
lack of a track record for SCLM combined with our concerns on
the capabilities of SCLM make that we are not able to accept
SCLM as the plantation management company" and: "We
also have concerns on the performance of SCLD. These concerns
are partly based on the feedback from Dutch investors who
visited Bocas recently and on rumors we heard about SCLD and
SCLD staff."
As the
principals of San Cristobal learned that this and more
information was somehow reaching me and their noni principality
was showing cracks, they intensified their efforts to shut me
up. "While you've been busy talking to our Dutch friends,
who aren't yet very forthcoming about their contacts with you,
I've been busy with our Panamanian lawyers, who are chock-full
of information," writes a frustrated Barry Miller after I
posted a message about the Morinda Group moving away from San
Cristobal. He then announces a lawsuit against me, and after
another message on the message board he notes: "Blah,
blah,
blah... I've read it all BEFORE, you little asshole!"
I started to
get
a little worried about where all this would go. Threats,
possible lawsuits, this McMurrain and his drug dealing
gangsters, principals posing as clients and others --- what was
this crazy world of the noni tubbies that I had landed into?
It was at the
height of this war that Rumpelstiltskin came to the rescue.
"Don't worry about anything," the mysterious source
told me, "you're holding all the cards, you just don't
know
it yet."
And then
Rumpelstiltskin showed me the cards I had been holding all this
time. Two cards showed arrest warrants for Tom McMurrain from
Fulton County, Atlanta, numbers 155027MC and 155028MC for
"theft by conversion." The others showed some court
documents regarding two civil and one criminal suit under the
RICO act against McMurrain. Another one showed how his wife
filed for bankruptcy. More documents showed the promissory
notes
McMurrain issued to raise money in the US, offering interest
rates of up to 30 percent per year, and a letter he sent out
when he couldn't pay any more, claiming he had built a
"winning company" despite his failure, and
threatening
investors not to run to the SEC.
"Tom
McMurrain is a con man, a fraud artist, and a fugitive from US
justice. Don't use that information yet. Let them come after
you, and they'll walk right into the trap," said
Rumpelstiltskin.
I could not
sleep that night. What I knew now was enough to blow up San
Cristobal, but did I really want to do that? Investors would
lose their investments. And I was not looking for scalps, for
journalistic trophies to hang on my wall like some of my
colleagues. I would prefer a solution in which at least
investors would be safe, even though they had been foolish to
invest with this outfit in the first place. "Don't count
on
investors for help," said Rumpelstiltskin, "even when
they know they made a mistake, you are bursting their bubble,
the dream. They want to continue to believe that their
investment is gonna work for them. You will not be their hero
if
you reveal the truth."
I stayed up all
night, and it was already light again when I finally came up
with a plan.
- to be
continued -
