Tuesday, August 30, 2011

There Is a Doctor in the House…


Remember Dr. Shatiff? Well, I am not really sure as to the source of the title but, since everyone did call him by that moniker, so did I.  The more we dealt, the less my belief in his title, but never did question him about it.

Nonetheless we were thrown together by fate, as it were, and the pursuit of business.  The good Doctor was from the Emirates originally and he had, several years before, been part of a number of financial dealings as well as doing some intermediary work for the Royal House. Hence, his letters of recommendation and his stories, which he did his best to bring forth at every possible moment; this may have been a way to try and keep them somewhat current. The papers the letters were written on were becoming slightly yellower every time they were shown; they were mostly 8-9 years old. But, they were apparently credible enough to have brought him to Zurich, on someone else’s expense pad.

Most of the people I met along the way were there on someone else’s nickel; they got there based on promises made to others who had the funds to capitalize these ventures, creating false expectations by inflating the possibility of a business which was as elusive, at the level they were playing it, as the holy grail. Most days, they spent their time doing not much except being on the phone, sometimes even talking to imaginary business partners just to keep appearances (sad, isn't it?), and drinking espresso; one cup after another. This last helped pass the time while they waited for the one call which might change their lot and it also helped hone the hunger pangs, which came from not really having the money to pay for a meal.

Yes this was, and is, a killer business. The basic call of it, in the end, is that it did (does) exist. On the other hand, the stark and cruel reality of it is that, by being an intermediary or someone just trying to insinuate him/herself into a potential deal, there is a 0.01% chance of getting to a successful end. Besides some degree of knowledge, there was a required supply of brass balls and ingenuity.

Having said all that, I found driving myself, Dr. Shatiff and his guest and wife from Zurich to a small Austrian village, where I had arranged for a meeting with a group of my acquaintance, themselves looking for someone with Dr. Shatiff’s friend’s abilities and connections. My guys had available bank documents with a sufficient amount of value, once discounted, to initiate a private investment transaction. This sounds very simple, but it is not; there are several steps which must be followed and, since 9/2001, these steps have become even more astringent and difficult.

But without that first meeting, there would be no possibility. These initial face to face encounters of who should eventually be the principal parties to a transaction, often turned out to be meetings between “high level representatives”, there on behalf of their principals, who would prefer not to show up at these “get-togethers”. This would not be so bad; it meant just added negotiation time if all went well… However, on occasion (often enough) those who represented themselves as either principals or their representatives, really had no contacts at all and were fishing (in today’s terms: phishing) to try and ensnare someone who may actually have a real contact…

Complicated enough yet? 

The meeting between these two groups, on this occasion, went fairly well. Oh yes, forgot to mention that the person brought by the good Dr., needed to take special medication, since he had been poisoned some time back and his central nervous system was functioning only at a 40-50% capacity. This very special medication would be taken every 45 minutes or so, requiring full rest for the next 15 minutes. After this initial meeting, he and I had several chances to meet as time went on, and we developed a decent enough relationship, which brought me to his house in Zurich a couple of times. He was a retired banker (retired due to his health issue, not age) and had kept his hand into these transactions. He told me quite a bit and, in his telling, I learned much.

I learned about the banking structures behind these transactions; about how to best approach a potential transaction; the questions to be asked in order to “smell” and identify possible fakes; about the fact that the folks who acted out as intermediaries (the banks which manage these deals, cannot actually do it directly with another bank, must use a third party) were the weakest link, often being cut off by the principals after a token payment. In his case (yes, I did ask) his bout with death had been a direct consequence of such a situation; the jilted middleman laid the responsibility on him (he was not, he was a bank officer then, not even the principal responsible for paying others but was the only person available; the principal had long since returned to his own country) and managed to get to him, killing himself afterwards. There were months of hospital treatments and these were truly painful; yet he managed to survive and go on with his, now modified, daily routine. I do not know whether he lives now or not.

Unfortunately, all the time spent in Zurich did not yield a transaction. What had brought me there originally had turned out wrong, when some of the documents which had been presented as real and good, notarized and “affidavited”(like that?) by several layers of crooked attorneys (I have some attorney friends, so I will not say this is redundant) had no real backing, cash or otherwise.

Eventually I returned home from Switzerland, having spent a good deal of money without results; there would be other opportunities but there, at that time, there was nothing much to pursue.

Some time ago I learned that the good Dr. Shatiff died in his hotel room, alone. The cause of death was called a heart attack, brought on by the constant level of incredible stress this business generates. I understood this, for it was my métier; it was well known to me what this interminable hustle and bustle could do to one’s body and spirit. On a running count, I knew until yesterday of 7 people with whom I had to deal at one time or another, who have died in such manner over these past years.  Some were friends, other were business acquaintances. Yesterday I learned about number eight. Nuno, the guy who received me in Lisbon several years ago and who initially was my “babysitter” and then became my friend, died of cancer and heart complications some 3 years ago; I didn’t know this. Again, the constant stress and pressure did him in.

So, if this is all true, why do people remain in this pursuit?  The allure of a major payoff, when all chips fall in the right place, and all the hands are dealt in your favor. When this happens, there is a huge windfall, which is also the reason for so many frauds and crooks hanging around. And, yes,  those who do not know what has transpired along the way, will probably say at that time “what a lucky” so and so… yes, luck will have a hand but long years of pain, often accompanied by loneliness and lost families; sometimes illness ignored and always the constant disappointments suffered along the way; these will usually not be known and could not be understood by these casual commentators.

I am not sure how much of this will find its way into these posts; probably more, at some future time. It is still complicated and ongoing, in a way…

Be well… Be Back!! 

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