Ponzi's Scheme_ The True Story of a Financial Legend - Mitchell Zuckoff [83]
When the pants-around-the-ankles mark had paid Coakley an exorbitant retainer, Coakley would pretend to use his adroit legal mind and close relationship with District Attorney Pelletier to make all charges, lawsuits, despoiled women, and angry husbands miraculously disappear. Pelletier would take a cut of the money from Coakley, and the game would begin again with a new victim. Pelletier and Coakley had even enlisted Daniel Gallagher in at least one shakedown before Gallagher became a federal prosecutor. Coakley ran the same racket with the district attorney of a neighboring county. Devoted to Rose, Ponzi was immune to sexual shenanigans. But given what Pelletier had read about his millions in the Post, Ponzi might be the district attorney’s biggest score yet.
While old pals Gallagher and Pelletier welcomed a joint conference, Attorney General J. Weston Allen declined. He preferred to go it alone rather than join forces with two Boston College buddies from the lower social and political classes. Ponzi decided to spend the rest of the day meeting with each one separately, starting with Pelletier and making Allen wait until last.
With his publicity man, William McMasters, in tow, Ponzi made the three-block walk from the bank, past City Hall, to the granite mountain that was the Suffolk County Courthouse on Pemberton Square. En route, Ponzi looked more like a man going to a cotillion than to the gallows, having dressed that morning as sharply as ever in white flannel trousers, silk shirt and socks, white bucks, and a blue coat with a handkerchief poking from the breast pocket. A large diamond pin glinted from the center of his cravat, and a silver-topped walking stick was tucked under his arm. He felt as good as he looked; he believed he was entering the darkness just before dawn. It would take every ounce of his intelligence, creativity, and moxie, not to mention split-second timing and preternatural coolness under fire. But where another man would have seen threats to his livelihood and freedom, Ponzi saw opportunity. This was the moment to begin making his big move.
Ponzi and McMasters entered the courthouse through the Great Hall, walking past marble statues and under a five-story vaulted ceiling adorned by frescoes. They entered Pelletier’s office at eleven o’clock and made themselves comfortable. Pelletier began the meeting brusquely, criticizing Ponzi over a false rumor that Pelletier was a Ponzi investor to the tune of twenty thousand dollars. Given his nature, it was entirely possible that, for all his protests, Pelletier mentioned that figure to signal to Ponzi where the bidding for his services should begin. Ponzi made what McMasters considered a cringing apology, then shifted the conversation to say that he was happy to cooperate with authorities despite the fact that no criminal or regulatory complaints had been made against him or his business.
After explaining the postal reply coupon business, overlooking the fact that he was in no such business, Ponzi maneuvered Pelletier into an extraordinary agreement: He would open the books of the Securities Exchange Company to an auditor to be selected by Pelletier and the other authorities. The auditor would establish the extent of his liabilities, after which Ponzi’s only requirement would be to prove that he had enough assets to meet them. If Ponzi could do that, he would be declared solvent and all investigations would cease. Ponzi still had not figured out how he would gather enough assets to offset his liabilities, but that would come later. At the moment, what he needed most was to stay in control of his business and buy some time.
Pelletier could see no downside to the deal—it would look as though he had the public interest