The royals - Kitty Kelley [199]
A self-described financial wizard, John Bryan understood the art of making deals. He knew the intricacies of Swiss bank accounts and offshore tax shelters. He unraveled the mysteries of high finance and reduced complex transactions to simple logic. He reassured people like Sarah and Andrew, who did not know how to manage their money. After Bryan explained the tax advantages of incorporating Sarah’s publishing ventures and funneling her Budgie profits through a corporation, Andrew and Sarah eagerly incorporated. Bryan helped set up ASB [Andrew Sarah Bryan] Publishing Inc. and, at Andrew and Sarah’s insistence, became a member of the board.
Susceptible to gurus, astrologers, and fortune-tellers, the Duke and Duchess were drawn to the fast-talking American. Their goals were his goals: to make money—big money—or, as he put it, “megamillions.”
During their first meeting, recalled a secretary who was in the room, Bryan endeared himself to the Duke of York by offering to restore the Duchess’s image in the press. “Most everything written about her is rubbish,” Bryan told them. Andrew nodded in agreement. Despite their marital problems, he remained devoted and wanted the rest of the world to see his wife as he did.
“Sir,” Bryan said respectfully, “I want to show Her Royal Highness’s commitment to charity and emphasize the good work she does which enhances the royal family.” Sarah beamed as Bryan pitched his fastball without a pop. He spoke with quiet authority. As he later told one writer, he operated on the principle of “softly, softly… catchee monkey.” Within fifteen minutes of their meeting, the organ-grinder had softly snared the Duke of York.
Andrew and Sarah sat spellbound as the American spun their debts into assets. He made their financial future look glowing. The bald sorcerer sounded as though he could sell toupees to Rastafarians. He was a fast talker who made gypsy moths look like butterflies.
“He was clever, and he certainly knew business,” said a British man who had known Bryan since he had moved to London. “But he was as ambitious as the Gordon Gecko character in [the movie] Wall Street. Johnny was hard charging, high energy; he lived on the edge. As you Americans say, he performed without a net.”
John Bryan executed his high-wire act with style. He understood packaging and the importance of the first impression. He looked rich. He wore custom-made suits, hand-tooled leather shoes, and gold cuff links. He skied, golfed, and played squash in private clubs. He competed fiercely on the tennis court. He dated models and debutantes.
But there was little behind his fancy facade. He possessed none of the hallmarks of wealth—no property, no portfolio. He spent most of everything he earned—and more. When his businesses in New York City, London, and Munich ran out of money, and he became insolvent, he left town.
He did it first in New York City. Following graduation from the University of Texas in 1979, he received a master’s degree in business administration from the University of Pittsburgh. He moved to Manhattan and started a small communications company with $1 million that he had raised from private investors. He promised them big profits, but after four years the company went broke.
“I lost over $50,000 on the guy,” said Taki. “I based my investment on my friendship… and I have to say I’m deeply disappointed. He said it was a sure thing, we couldn’t miss, and that my $50,000 would turn into millions. After the company failed, he went doggo for a while, and then turned up [in London] with Fergie.”
The British Home Office wouldn’t give him a work permit because it wasn’t convinced he could support himself. His London apartment, which doubled as his office, was rented. So was his furniture. He also rented a country house in Gloucestershire. “That’s where I met him,” recalled journalist Rory Knight Bruce. “He was dressed in American tweeds and smoking a joint.