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It's the summer of 1984, Reza Aslan Minea cannot sit still, he almost Wil's his knees to stop bouncing, but as soon as they stop, he's biting his nails. He's sitting on a black leather couch in the walnut paneled reception area of the BBC. Raisen is a distraction. It looks up at a large abstract painting hanging over the reception desk.


It looks mostly like a bunch of colored shapes to Reza, but he can tell it was expensive coffee or tea or maybe water. The receptionist stands above him, expectant. Could she tell he doesn't know anything about art? He's an imposter. Sure. Water is fine. Mr. Dostie is just finishing up a call. He should be out in a moment. He waits until the receptionist is preoccupied pouring his water, then wipes away the tiny beads of sweat on his upper lip.


He would give away every cent he had, which is not a lot to stop sweating right now. It's not like this is a job interview. But then again, this opportunity could change his life, raise a fiddles with his tie. The timid 23 year old Iranian boy has lived in America for nearly a decade, and in that time he's made little money and fewer friends. This meeting could change all that. Ben Dosti, Dean's close friend and right hand man, walks into the reception area, he met Ben just a few days ago at a party.


Reza was excited when he learned Ben was a member of the BBC. He had heard about the group Raisa wanted in. He covertly wipes his sweaty palm on his slacks and reaches out his hand to Ben. Hey, man, thanks for coming by. Ben says no. The pleasure's mine. Ben beckons. Rasa follows.


Come on in. Joe Hunte calls out. Rasor follows Ben into Joe's posh corner office.


This is Raisa, the friend I wanted you to meet, Joe Stand's, but stays behind his desk to shake raises hand. Can we get you anything? Joe asks. No, thanks. Raises thrown by how tall Joe is. He's got to be at least six foot five to raise his mere five eight. This makes Raisa even more anxious.


Joe calls out to the receptionist anyway to bring a tray of coffee and danishes into his office. He smiles at Raisen, settles back into his leather chair, hands behind his head. So, Rasor, tell me about yourself.


Raisa says he's just got a job as a salesman for an industrial flooring company. It's beneath me, Raisa clarifies. I'd rather start at the top. Well, you've come to the right place and pipes in Ben Winx that Joe Joe asks about his family.


My dad, Harriot Islamiyya, was once the third highest ranking official in the Shah's government in Iran. Reza says he was important. They're well respected. But when Ayatollah Khomeini came into power, he had no choice but to flee. Reza tells them that his father still has political enemies.


The new regime wrote his name in blood on the walls of Tehran, and they'd love to do it again with his own blood. This time, my father left Iran with a lot of money, but he left my mother and siblings behind. He brought only Raisa with him to the States. That was 10 years ago. It was a difficult ten years adjusting to life in a foreign country. Desperately missing his family, he and his father fought constantly, and now Reza hasn't seen him in a while, or his money raised has been cut off.


Raisa finishes his coffee and his story. Joe looks distracted. Raisa panics. What if he didn't impress Joe? Ben and Joe stand and raise knows his chance is disappearing fast. Think where he's a think, he says to himself. Raisa stands to leave and thrust out his hand with all the confidence he can muster. We really should talk business some time. I have excellent contacts in the Mideast and we could probably put together some deals that would benefit us both.


Wow. Raise a surprised himself with that one. Ben smiles at him, though. Joe just thanked him for stopping by. Ben offers to walk him out just as razors in the hallway. Joe calls out after him. Out of curiosity, how much money is your father worth?


Rasor doesn't hesitate to answer about thirty million.


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I promise you, there's something for you on Audible to start your free 30 day trial, visit audible dot com slash boys club or text boys club. All one word to 500 500. Again, that's audible dot com boys club or text boys club to five hundred five hundred. From wonderingly, I'm Tracy Paten with Timothy Olyphant, and this is Hollywood and Crime Billionaire Boys Club. In our last episode, Joe brought the most trusted BBC boys closer together and made them all accessories to murder.


But Joe is the golden child of commodities trading. Where he leads, they will follow, especially when it comes to Joe's business philosophy. The ends always justify the means. This is the second episode in our six part series, The Pied Piper of Beverly Hills. Here's Timothy Olyphant. It was September 1983, Dean Carney was in his bedroom, he got his reflection in the mirror. He looked bad. He was worried. He didn't sleep last night since Joe came back from Chicago and told him he'd lost all the money.


How do you tell your parents that your best friend, the guy you personally vouch for, lost all their savings, all your savings? That was your future, your parents' future gone. Dean heard his parents open the door. Joe was punctual as ever. He insisted on coming over today, telling Dean's parents face to face admirable, yet he seemed so cavalier about it. Don't worry, they'll be fine, Joe said last night on the car ride from the airport.


Really? I guess we'll know soon enough. Dean took one last look at himself in the mirror and went downstairs. They sat Dean's parents down on the couch, everyone was waiting for Joe to speak. What's going on, Dean's mother asked, Joe leaned forward, Dean studied his parents faces as Joe spoke. He prayed they'd understand.


I want to thank you again, Mr. and Mrs. Carney, for your generous investments, you're investing in young entrepreneurship. You're investing in the very principles this country was founded on. Mr. Carney said this cocktail, when a person makes money on a trade, someone else loses. Joe was a shrewd trader. He told them and his youth and skill was intimidating to the older guys in the pit.


Mrs Carney smiled at this man. She said. Joe laughed. Dean forced to smile. The tenured pit guys didn't like Joe.


He said they were angry. Joe spun an elaborate tale about a large brokerage house that squeezed him out of a position he was holding. He lost big time. How much did you lose, Joe? Mr. Carney asked. After a pause, Joe said. All of it. The four of them sat in silence for what felt like too long. Dean was desperate for someone to say something, anything. His parents stared down at the floor deep in thought.


Joe spoke up, he assured the Carneys he had other investor accounts earning up to 20 percent a month, he would make the money back and repay them with interest. Dean jumped in and told his parents Joe came prepared with a promissory note stop, Mrs Carney said.


Joe, are you sure about this? Absolutely, Joe looked like he believed it. Dean prayed he knew what he was doing, Mrs. Carney smiled at Joe then your word is good enough for us. Now, who wants dinner? Detective Les Zola isn't a man of many words this early in the morning, and especially not on a quiet morning at the Beverly Hills Police Department. It's been exactly 48 hours since Ron Levin's mother first called him in a panic.


Call number two is no less panicked. My son is still missing, Carl Levin says on the other end of the phone. I looked up your son and our sister, Mrs. Levin. Zola says, Are you aware how much trouble he's in? At the time he was last seen, Ron Levin was out on bail.


Zoller lists the charges against him. The Los Angeles County district attorney's office filed 10 counts of grand theft against her son. Ron Levin is facing a sentence of up to eight years. If convicted, he stole over 100000 dollars in camera equipment a year ago or borrowed, as he claimed, although he failed to return it. Also, over half a million in computer equipment seems to be reported borrowed as well. Carol Levin is full of excuses for her boy, Ronnie.


This has nothing to do with the fact that my son is missing, Carroll says.


Oh, but it does. Zol points out he's been out on bail and his trial is quickly approaching. Many believe your son skipped town. That's impossible. The Ronnie I know would never go anywhere without telling me.


Ma'am, I've got a file on Ronnie that suggests otherwise. He takes a sip of coffee and hangs up the phone.


Dean was impressed by how Joe dealt with his parents. He had them eating out of his hands even though he lost hundreds of thousands of their hard earned money. Joe truly was a whiz kid. Dean can talk his way in or out of anything. Joe was a guy Dean could learn from. He believed in them. He believed Joe could raise more money and trade commodities to multiply that money. It's a little setback at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. Wasn't going to stop, Joe.


It wasn't going to stop Dean either. What they needed were more members. And Dean was the perfect man to lead recruitment efforts. He was well-liked amongst his friends. He had no enemies. He was handsome and charming. He was a terrific tennis player. Dean had been giving private tennis lessons at the country club for Los Angeles's wealthiest elite since he was in high school. His family knew everyone who was anyone. For the next few months, Dean and Joe's sole focus was reaching out to every viable person they could think of to recruit from members.


There were three traits they were looking for in a BBC member. Number one, they had to have style. Number two, they had to be open to being led. And finally they had to have money.


Money was key. It's summer, 1984, Raisa Islamiyya looks in the bathroom mirror and splashes water on his face, he needs a shave, but he'll wait for later right before the party he's going to tonight. So he looks fresh, raise appeals, a Post-it note off the mirror, pick up tuxedo. He's never worn a tuxedo before, but the invitation to Evan Dikkers birthday party is pretty clear. Formal attire, it says in big letters at the bottom, if Raisa makes a good impression, he's that much closer to getting in.


And if he doesn't, at least he got an invite to what Ben promises will be the hottest party of 1984. Brazil is thrilled to be invited to a BBC party. Joe Hunt and his gang of wealthy, good looking, impeccably dressed young men are the envy of nine to one. Oh, Raisa has stars in his eyes, dollar signs two. He needs to find a better way to make a living than selling flooring tiles. Getting into the BBC would do both.


After a decade of just scraping by, he would feel like he's finally arrived. Nineteen eighty two twenty one year old Evan Decker bought himself another doer's and water Evan like drinking, he did it a lot.


Even when he was alone, he grabbed another bottle of scotch as he finished off the one in his hand, he poured another for Dean.


Are you sure you won't join us, Evan? As Joe I'm good. Evan shrugged your loss.


Evan and Dean have been friends since Dean gave Evan tennis lessons back in high school tonight. At Dean's request, the three were hanging out. Dean wanted Evan to get to know Joe better. Evan was game. He was curious to hear more about this EBC that Dean was always blabbing about, tall and thin, well-dressed and with a sharp sense of humor. Evan was quiet but well-connected and very popular.


Evan's father was a successful lawyer, so money was never a concern of his. He spent daddy's money quite freely. Cars were Evan's thing, a BMW, three twenty eye in high school and a Porsche. Joe and Dean got comfortable and Evan stylishly furnished Beverly Hills apartment. Joe talked about his philosophy on life, the importance of one's behavior in response to events and needs as opposed to rules and laws. It was brainy stuff. Evan was an intelligent guy, but lazy.


Evan was a follower, just a lump of clay waiting to be molded.


Joe told Evan about the club they were forming. He described it as a social club for members with common beliefs. A group of entrepreneurs, if you will, Joe, would trade commodities to fund the group in addition to profits from their businesses. I had enormous success trading commodities, Joe explained before I was railroaded off the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. They invited Evan to join the group. He said yes right away. After the founders, Joe Dean and Ben Evan was the first new member recruited the BBC.


Dozens of beautiful 20 somethings are packed into Evan Dikkers, Beverly Hills apartment on this summer evening in 1984. Tuxedos and taffeta gowns flow freely through the room just like the champagne.


Dean looks at his watch. Razz is late.


Dean fixes himself another drink and assumes his post eyes trained on the door waiting for Razz. Finally, Dean sees Razack wide eyed and eager. Dean finds Joe and gestures toward. It's showtime. Once Reesa has a drink, Joe makes his way to the center of the room where party goers have been avoiding a bulky object draped with a white sheet.


I want to make a toast to my BBC brother, Evan. Let's make this our best year ever.


Joe pulls the white sheet off to reveal a brand new red motorcycle. Wow. That's something racist, says Dean. Whispers Teresa that Joe bought 10 identical bikes for each of the core BBC members.


He left out that Joe blew 20 thousand dollars from their seriously dwindling cash flow. Reza was impressed, which was exactly what Joe intended. Reza wants to grab a smoke so he and Joe go out on the balcony. Can I ask you a personal question? Joe says, Why does your father cut you off, raise a clumsily, takes a drag on his cigarette? He doesn't smoke a whole lot. He's desperately trying to look cool in front of Joe.


I despise my father. He's an evil man. His hatred for his father is real and well deserved, but Raisa usually keeps that to himself. Tonight, he opens up Raisa goes into graphic detail about how his father beat him as a child, his siblings to be cheated on his mother. He's addicted to opium and he's a drug dealer. My father has never cared about me. Raisa tells Joe he's been thinking he wants to enlist the BBC's help in gaining control of his father's assets, the BBC would get a cut.


Raisa points out that if anything happens to his father in the process, authorities will surely suspect foul play at the hands of the Ayatollah Khomeini. Joe says he'll think about it. Reza just flicks his cigarette over the balcony. Joe goes back inside and finds Dean standing off to the side, nursing a beer, watching the party. He whispers in Dean's ear, Easier than I thought. While reliving the glory days of our favorite teams was fun, we are all thankful that sports are finally coming back in partnership with the athletics All-Star team of local and national sports reporters.


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That's where you're wrong, Dean, Darth Vader isn't inherently evil. He's acting on whatever is best for his followers. If you're on his team, he's God. Dean could barely hear Joe over the noise and the Hard Rock Cafe. In January of 1983, Joe insisted on eating there. He loved the Thunder's atmosphere.


It was a hot spot. Hordes of people lined up around the block at any time, day or night, except for the BBC boys. They always walked right in. They were still looking for new recruits, and tonight they were on the hunt. That's when Tom and Dave Maye walked in O'May twins were Harvard School classmates of Joe and Dean. You remember the maze, right? Joe Dienes I remember working my ass off to dream Tom and debate. He was terrible.


They'd be perfect for the BBC. They're a bit dim. Joe said, sure, but they're rich. Teen approached their table and said hello. Tom asked Dean what he'd been up to. Dean told him he'd been hanging out with Joe Damski from the debate team in high school. Seriously, Tom laughed. Dean told the twins how successful Joe has been as a commodities trader. He's grown ups in school, Dean said. He's a completely different person.


The Mays were skeptical. Come see for yourself. They followed Dean to his table. Hey, guys. Long time no see, Joe shook hands with the twins. Joe did look different than Tom remembered. He seemed calm, collected and put together. Joe invited them to join them. He asked about their life after high school, the twins told the group all about the nightclub they opened in Dana Point, a beach town south of Los Angeles. There's nothing like it in town, Tom said.


It's packed every night at a Dave his twin. Sounds amazing, said Dean. We could use smart young entrepreneurs like yourselves on our team. We're looking for the best and the brightest. The twins were intrigued, although they were hardly entrepreneurs, their night club was losing money fast. Not that they would tell Joe and Dean that they built it so they could party and get laid. Plus, they were bored with the club. They were looking for something new.


You guys should come down to Datapoint. Check out the club. Definitely, Joe said. Dave May anxiously clicks through the channels, tightly gripping the remote like a life raft, he's not really paying attention to the TV. He's nervously killing time until his brother comes home. But Dave and Tom weren't talking much lately.


It's the summer of 1984 and Dave has known about Ron leavens murder for several weeks. Not that Joe told him Dave was excluded from the secret meeting on June 24th. Joe doesn't trust Dave, but that's OK with him. He doesn't trust Joe either.


But Tom didn't tell him either. And this has been eating Dave alive. They're twins. They tell each other everything.


And now Joe is tearing them apart. Tom's always been closer to Joe. Dave's well aware. Joe thinks his brother is smarter of the identical twins. This used to bother Dave, but now with this news, he's kind of relieved. Joe keeps them at a distance, but people talk. One of the guys blab today in swore him to secrecy every day since Dave's been waiting for Tom to tell him, but he hasn't. The twins have grown apart since they joined the BBC and since the murder, they've barely been speaking.


Tom enters their apartment and throws down his suit jacket.


Work hard today, Tom. Dave Marks. Tom sighs heavily The tension has been so great. If they could have stopped being brothers, they would have. What's your problem? Tom asks. Dave stares into Tom's eyes, searching for the brother he used to know. I'm tired of all the secrets, Tom. Don't you have something to tell me? Dave says he presses. Tom finally breaks. Joe Hunt killed Ron Levin. I know. Dave says I just needed to hear you say it.


Tom looked stunned. Dave continues. I already told dad and we're speaking to his lawyer. Dave Waits for Tom. He's just standing there. I've made him angry. Dave thought I went behind his back to dad. I'm relieved, Tom confesses. I've felt so alone. Dave smiles at his brother and moves in for a hug. Who's the inferior brother now, Joe? Dave thinks he doesn't say that. He just tells Tom that he missed him.


Dean answers the door to his condo, raises, stands there out of breath. Sorry I'm late. It's OK. Relax. As they walk into the living room, Rasas sees Joe, Ben and Jim Graham, the BBC's bodyguard, are already there. They wait for Joe's cue to get into the reason they're all there.


Raisa wants to enlist our help. He's interested in encouraging his father to turn over his assets.


Raisa takes a seat and steadies his voice.


My father is a complicated man with an even more complicated career. He tells the four men all about his father's background in Iranian politics. He was able to smuggle a lot of money, about 30 million out of the country before the shah fell. But he's cut me off his only son in this country, and I can't survive without his money before men listen to raise his story carefully, Reza makes eye contact with each of them as he speaks. The money is stashed in various banks around the world, Raisa says, and it's important to note my father has a lot of enemies.


This detail grabs Joe's attention, Raisa tells him, in addition to his drug dealing enemies, he's on the hit list of the current Iranian regime. If something were to happen to my father, everyone would assume it was the ayatollah or some drug dealer, Jim Smirk's. Reza leads into his offer. I want his assets. And with your help, I'm prepared to split any money 50/50 with the BBC. Reza sits back and watches them work. The boys toss around scenarios and formulate a plan, and the plan they settle on is as bold as Reza hoped it would be.


They will abduct Islamiyya from his apartment in San Francisco and bring him down to Southern California. They decide that raises should stay out of sight during the actual abduction so Islamiyya doesn't know his son is involved. Reza will wait in the car once his father is secure in the back of the truck. The boys will then drive him down to L.A. and force him to sign over his assets. To Reza. My father is a tough man. Reza warns. He'll fight back.


He'll lie. He'll have to be convinced. You're serious.


There are ways to do that, Jim says. Joe chimes in. Torture works wonders. Joe has always been drawn to violence. And since he killed Levin, he's become even more sinister. Reza leaves the meeting feeling frightened and anxious but relieved. Weight's been lifted off his shoulders. It's extreme, yes, but raises father is a monster. He deserves to suffer. On March 18th, 1983, 30 well-to-do young men gathered in the living room of Joe and Dean's apartment for the largest meeting yet of the BBC.


Joe looked sharp, inclosed. Dean picked out for him. They handed out the BBC's black book, a prospectus Joe prepared for this inaugural meeting. Joe addressed the group.


The BBC might not be for everyone. We're looking for the very best. Joe spoke with passion and intelligence. The 30 men in the room were riveted. Joe spoke of the BBC as an alternative to the traditional corporate ladder. He spelled out the group's objectives on the introduction page in the Black Book to create a system where one information travels rapidly without distortion. Two, which allows an individual to operate at the highest levels of his capacity. Three, which is aware of its resources and effectively uses them and for which reflects Paradoks philosophy.


Paradoks philosophy was the name Joe came up with to encapsulate his Ayn Rand inspired ideas about life to Joe. Every relationship in the world is a paradox, and people should always act in their own best interests. He believes that guilt, taboos and other social constraints were obstacles for people who lived in the real world. The end always justifies the means, Joe Hunt was a force to be reckoned with. That evening he came across as accomplished, intelligent and self-assured, and most of the men present could not wait to join.


Dean is checking over his shoulder every few seconds as he browses the dusty displays, a California surplus. He holds up a brown work shirt to see how big it is.


Can I help you with something? Dean jumps. He hadn't even heard the salesclerk walk up. Dean is a nervous wreck. But then again, Dean thinks who wouldn't be nervous when they're shopping for an abduction? Joe wouldn't. Joe never gets anxious. Dean's taken to asking himself, what would Joe do in almost every situation? If Joe thinks they're doing the right thing, then Dean is on board. He's just following the BBC's philosophy. Do whatever it takes to succeed.


And today that means getting everything on his abduction list. Dean walks up to the counter and lays out his purchases, three pairs of brown dickeys, matching brown work shirts and three ups hats. The boys plan to dress his deliverymen to gain access into Eslam Æneas complex.


Dean pays and heads to value Shoe Mart for rubber soled work boots at Bernhard's luggage on Vyn. Dean tells the clerk he needs a large, extra sturdy steamer trunk for a long trip overseas. The clerk shows him their best selling model trunk, half inch plywood, rubber veneer, brass corners reinforced with rivets and vulcanized fiber. It's heavy and very sturdy. Dean silently studies the trunk, trying to come up with a discreet way of asking if a person could fit inside, he's tempted to step in himself, but figures it might look suspicious.


He buys the trunk anyway. Next stop, gags and handcuffs. He heads to the Pleasure Chest, a sex shop on Santa Monica Boulevard. All items in hand, Dean heads back to his and Joe's condo, Dean goes over the plan in his head, the whole drive. Joe, Ben and Jim, dressed as U.P.S. men, will deliver a large package, the trunk wrapped in brown paper to raise his father's apartment. They'll sedate him using chloroform, put him in the trunk, bring him to the van, drive down to Los Angeles.


Easy. They'll bring him to a safe house and restrain him in the basement. The plan is to torture him if necessary. Kitty litter a makeshift toilet. They will hold Islamiyya in the safe house until he signs over his assets to his son. The only remaining detail is the safe house itself. Dean calls up realtors looking for a short term rental house. Six weeks or so, he tells a realtor he's a writer on a deadline, so he needs somewhere quiet and secluded with a basement.


She and Dean tore a few houses and eventually settled on a place off Beverly Glen. They agree to a six week lease for nine thousand dollars.


A few months had passed since the BBC's inaugural meeting and the boys were back at their table at the Hard Rock Cafe one day, about a month after Dave May invested ten thousand dollars for Joe to trade, Joe handed him a cheque for five thousand dollars. What's this? Dave asked. Profit on your account. Joe said Joe made 50 percent profit on Dave's investment in just one month. He could see it in the boys faces. Joe had them hooked.


Dave slid the check back to Joe. If these are the results, you'd have to be a fool not to invest. I want to reinvest this and a little more than Dave took out his checkbook and wrote an additional check for seventy thousand dollars. This was the remaining money he had left from his inheritance.


Joe grabbed Dave's arm. This is all well and good, gentlemen. But right now we're still in the kiddie pool. If we want to swim with the sharks, we're going to need real money. I've got eighty thousand dollars, Joe. Tom said Joe took a bite of his burger. That's a start. Let's see who else we can find. Steve Weiss looked young for his age, he was 58, a film editor and a father, his daughter was the girlfriend of a BBC member and she encouraged him to meet with Joe.


She said he's a genius trader making phenomenal returns on people's investments. Now, he stood on the sidewalk in Beverly Hills waiting to meet this wunderkind, Mr. Weiss. He heard a voice behind him and spun around. Great to meet you. A tall, lanky guy looked more like a kid, stuck out his hand. Nice to meet you, Joe. Why don't we take a walk? Joe said. Weiss followed.


Joe told Weiss his profits consistently came in at 18 percent. He had a system that guaranteed success. Joe was well-spoken and clear and didn't pressure wise in any way. Weiss was warming up to the boy, but not totally convinced. He said he'd invest five thousand dollars to test the waters and see what Joe could do. A month after his initial five thousand investment, Weiss received a check for four thousand dollars, which Joe stated was one month's profit on his five grand.


Weiss was impressed.


By the end of the summer, Weiss had brought in 30 new investors totaling around two hundred thousand dollars. They each got their monthly updates showing profit on their investments. In no time, Joe raised close to a million dollars. Joe was trading some of the money he raised, but he was also spending a lot on overhead, he said. First, Joe signed a lease for office space on the BBC in the exclusive Wells Fargo building in Beverly Hills, there were 3000 Armani suits, dinners at Spago, German sports cars.


Joe got in the habit of carrying around a thick stack of hundred dollar bills and an amount like candy to whoever needed cash. He obsessed over every detail about his image before he went out anywhere.


But the best part was all the guys who wouldn't give him the time of day in high school now looked up to him. They wanted to be like him. Joe was their God and he felt like one. Hey, BBC listeners, by now, you know, Joseph Hunt would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Not lying, not kidnapping, not even murder, but how many bodies would he bury before the truth came out and how did he get away with murder?


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In December 1983, Joe addressed a group of BBQ boys in the parking lot of a Denny's in the San Fernando Valley. The boys were dressed in business suits, hair slicked back, expensive sunglasses. They huddled around in a circle, going over their agenda. One last time, they were on their way to the desert to meet a scientist named Dr Brownie. Joe had read about Browning and his invention, the cyclotron in the Los Angeles Times. The cyclotron crushed rock for mining, but also saw its potential in multiple applications, manufacturing, silicon chips, glass lenses and more.


Joe predicted there was a lot of money to be made with this invention. He hoped to negotiate a deal. If things went according to plan. This was going to be the biggest investment yet for the BBC. A professional show began. We want to demonstrate to Dr. Browning that we're not just a bunch of kids. We're serious, responsible businessmen. Gil was obsessed with impressing Dr. Browning. He asked the boys to round up the best cars they could get.


Evan Prada's Porche Joe drove his new BMW, one member borrowed his father's Rolls-Royce. And the convoy of imported cars worked. Dr. Brownings eyes lit up as the luxury caravan pulled up to his workshop about two hours outside Los Angeles. Joe stepped out of his BMW. Is Gucci loafers sending up clouds of dust on the dirt road? Mr. Browning? We spoke on the phone. I'm Joe Hunt. Mr. Browning shook Joe's hand. Let me show you the cyclotron.


He said Joe wanted to make a deal and he knew Browning needed funding. But Browning was cautious. He'd been screwed before he spent the rest of the afternoon talking with Joe and the BBC. Joe said the BBC could provide financing in exchange for a substantial share of the company. Days after their meeting, Dr. Browning signed a deal with the BBC show Name the new company Microdevices. You didn't know it then, but Michael Agenesis would be the beginning of the end of the BBC.


On July 30th, 1984, Dean signs the six week lease for the safe house where they'll be taking raises farther. His hands quiver as he counts out hundred dollar bills. Joe insisted he pay in cash. Are you OK? A realtor asks Dean.


Brushes are off telling her he's late for a flight, which he is.


He rushes out of the realtor's office and heads for LAX. Joe, Ben, Jim and Raisa are already at the hotel in San Francisco when Dean arrives. Joe and Ben drove up the night before from L.A. with the supplies. Now altogether, they go over the abduction plan. Once again, we get Islamiyya in the trunk. Joe says use force only if necessary, but he needs to be conscious.


When we get him back to L.A., then we have all the time in the world to wait him out until he gives up the location of his money and signs it over to Reza. Joe is meticulous, his attention to detail calms Dean's nerves. This is all going to work out fine, Dean tells himself. At three thirty PM, Joe, Ben and Jim change into their delivery uniforms. Joe drives the U-Haul with Dean and Ben Raisen. And Jim, take the BMW.


This is it, Rasa says.


He points to a nondescript beige condominium complex just outside of the city. There's a black iron fence around the entire place. Lets Jim out at the gates and parks the car outside of the complex. Joe Parks, the U-Haul across the street from Reesa. Dean watches from the U-Haul as Joe, Ben and Jim carry the brown paper wrapped trunk up to the gates. The uniforms work, the three men easily get inside the compound and raise a stair at one another as they wait in their respective vehicles.


Seems like forever beads of sweat form on Dean's forehead. He thinks he hears a shriek from far away. Was that racist dad? He looks across the street at Ray's again, raises head, hangs low and rocks back and forth. Is he praying? Is Rasa having second thoughts? The loud clank of metal handles at the back of the U-Haul breaks Dean's daydreams. He looks in the side mirror and sees Joe Jimin been red faced and sweaty, struggling with the trunk.


Joe yells at Dean to get out and help. They boost the heavy trunk up and slide it into the back of the U-Haul. The trunk smells heavily of chloroform, it makes Dean dizzy, how'd it go? Dean asks. He's afraid for the answer. It was more difficult than I expected. Joe said, get in.


Dean and Ben ride in the back of the U-Haul with Islamiyya still inside the trunk. Joe drives Rózsa and Jim head back to L.A. in the BMW, a muffled voice, pleas from inside the trunk. The U-Haul trailer is pitch black. Dean scrambles in his duffle bag to find a flashlight. He shines it at the trunk as if it would make Islamiyya stop. Eslami bangs on the inside lid of the trunk. It was 95 degrees outside. Dean figured it had to be at least one hundred and ten in the back of the U-Haul.


Is banging turns into scratching Dean and Ben ride in silence, staring at one another, trying to ignore the sounds, the trailer is lit only by the dim strobe from Dean's flashlight. What happened in there? Dean finally asks Ben. Ben tells Dean that when Islamiyya opened the door, he let them in to make the delivery. That's when Jim charged in from behind, pointing the gun right at his face. He dropped to the floor and pleaded with us not to kill him.


Jim tried to chloroform him, then continues. But for an old out of shape guy, that dude is strong. He fought back. Jim spilled the chloroform, so he starts pounding the living daylights out of the guy. Then me and Joe jumped in and says Joe managed to get what was left of the chloroform on a rag and covered his face and put him under. We're supposed to take him out of the trunk. So are we Ben is afraid to open the lid and then what, Ben asks, just sit here in the back of the truck with someone we just kidnapped who will probably try to kill us.


That's why I bought a gag and handcuffs were supposed to tie him up. Well, I'm not doing it, Dean says. After a little while, the cries and pleas from inside the trunk stop. Oh, shit, Ben. Do you think he's still alive, then stares at the trunk? Yeah, why do you think he can breathe? Dean finds the silence even more insufferable. He reaches in the duffel again and finds a Phillips head screwdriver.


Dean stabs the trunk lid until there are a dozen little air holes. A few minutes later, Islamiyya shrieks are back. He's much louder this time. Dean imagines the other cars on the road hearing him. Dean covers up the holes with duct tape. The cries eventually stop. He removes the tape again, more cries, more tape on tape, this goes on for hours.


Finally. Silence. At a rest stop, Joe checks in with Dean and Ben, they tell him Islamiyya hasn't made much noise for a while. Why didn't you let them out like we planned? Dean and Ben don't really have an answer for Joe. Open the goddamn Trump now. Joe says they slowly lift the lid of the trunk, anticipating death, but fearing life, hot air and the stench of vomit pour out. This is the first time Dean sees Eslami his face.


It's colorless and scrunched up, his expression frozen. The man is curled up in a fetal position. His eyes are closed, his clothes are drenched and drool, vomit, sweat and blood. Dean checks his pulse. Oh, shit. He's dead. Next time on Billionaire Boys Club, the body count is up to two, how far will the boys go to get what they want? And Joe Hunt finally meets his match. He's introduced to a man who could solve all his financial problems.


His name is Ron Levin. This is episode two of six in Billionaire Boys Club from Hollywood and Crime. If you like our show, please give us a five star rating and a review and be sure to tell your friends. Subscribe on Apple podcast, Spotify, the Wonder App or wherever you're listening right now. Join Wonderly Plus in the Wonder App to listen ad free. You'll also find some links and offers from our sponsors and the episode notes supporting them helps us keep offering our shows for free.


Another way you can support the show is by filling out a small survey at one Dary dot com slash survey. And just a quick note about our scenes. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but everything in our show is based on historical research. I'm your host, Tracy Pat.


This episode is written by Michael Selvidge and produced and edited by Leah Sutherland, recorded by Julianne Nicholson at The Invisible Studios, West Hollywood Sound Design by James Morgan and Kyle Randall for Bay Area Sound. Executive producers are Marshall Louis, Stephanie Jenns and Ernan Lopez for wondering why.