The Wizard of Lies: Bernie Madoff and the Death of Trust Read Online Free PDF

lives, has plunged them instantly from wealth to ruin. He is not the financial genius and Wall Street statesman they always believed he was; he is a crook, a thief, a con artist of almost unimaginable dimensions. How could they have been so deceived about their own father?
    These are not Marty Flumenbaum’s immediate concerns. Madoff has made it clear to his sons that he intends to continue his criminal behavior for one more week, distributing what prosecutors will soon be calling “ill-gotten gains” to his relatives, employees, and friends. This vast crime isn’t over; it is a work in progress. Madoff’s sons have no choice, Flumenbaum tells his new clients. They must report this conversation—this confession—to the federal authorities immediately.
    Flumenbaum knows very senior people at the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Manhattan and at the New York office of the Securities and Exchange Commission. He makes some calls. When he reaches his contact at the SEC, he sketches out the afternoon’s events, the Ponzi scheme allegations, the estimate from Bernie himself that the losses could reach $50 billion.
    There is a pause at the other end of the line, then the taut question: Is that billion , with a B ?
    Yes. Billion , with a B .
    The investigative machinery grinds into motion. The FBI musters its financial crime team. The SEC, not for the first time, opens a case file labeled “Madoff, Bernard L.”

    It’s not precisely clear how Madoff spends the rest of this day, the last day he will be able to go anywhere unrecognized. He recalls returning to the office; he remembers Andrew being there and telling him that he and Mark would be consulting a lawyer. As Eleanor Squillari remembers the afternoon, he does not return to his office on the nineteenth floor; she recalls trying to reach him on his cell phone numerous times but getting only his voice mail.
    Mismatched memories also distort what happens on the rest of this bizarre day. For Bernie Madoff and his family, today is already etched in acid in their minds, in their hearts—but for the drivers and other junior office employees, it is simply the day of the annual office Christmas party. For them, its devastating significance will not emerge for another twenty-four hours. So, inevitably, some pieces of this puzzle simply won’t fit.
    Still, Squillari feels sure she would have seen her boss if he had returned to his own office. There is a hand-delivered letter waiting for him there from Jeffrey Tucker at Fairfield Greenwich. In it, Tucker apologizes for not keeping Madoff better informed about pending redemptions and promises to do better in the future. “You are our most important business partner and an immensely respected friend…. Our mission is to remain in business with you and to keep your trust,” the letter says.
    Perhaps Madoff simply goes directly from the lobby to the seventeenth floor, where Frank DiPascali and some of his small crew are working on the checks Madoff plans to distribute.

    After the long meeting with Flumenbaum, Andrew Madoff returns to his sleek, airy apartment on the Upper East Side. Without even removing his coat, he lies motionless on his bed for hours—waiting, perhaps, for his world to stop reeling.
    It never occurs to Mark or Andrew to attend the Christmas party already under way at Rosa Mexicano, a cheery Mexican restaurant where the firm held last year’s party. Tonight’s party is happening in the world they used to live in. They can’t get there from the world they live in now.
    It does not occur to Bernie and Ruth not to attend the party. They are on autopilot, trying just to function. What possible explanation could they give for not showing up? Neither of them could even phone in their regrets without breaking down. Perhaps attending the party is simply the path of least resistance, the only option that will keep reality at bay for a few more hours, a few more days.
    Like the images of the day, the memories of this