Do I sound okay? Not too nasally? All right. Three, two, one. Prague, early 1994.

He felt someone is following him. Someone is trying to kill him.

Victor is now carrying a pistol for protection, or at least that's the rumor. They say bodyguards follow him everywhere. Victor picks up. Okay. And the heat has just gotten too hot.. I'm just trying to think. I'm just trying to think. Within hours, the charmer who controls a whole chunk of the Czech economy, who's smile beamed out from 1,000 billboards, the guy who brought capitalism to millions. Papers. Proceed. Has vanished across the border.

He was just gone.

Never to return. This is The Pirate of Prague, an Apple original podcast. House, produced by Blanchard House. I'm Joe Nostero. Chapter four, lifeless key. So I'd love to tell you that Victor's next stop was some exotic island, maybe the Bahamas. And we actually will get there. Trust me on this. But not just yet. First stop, Switzerland. Home of Yodeling, Cuckoo Clocks. Cuckoo Clocks? Swiss Chocolate, Swiss Cheese, Swiss Watches. And last but not least, Swiss Bank Accounts, Victor's Swiss Bank Accounts. Victor is now running his operation by phone from Zurich. For now, Switzerland feels safe. He's bought himself a little time. Victor summons his inner circle, people like Petra Vendolova, whom we've heard from. But there's a change in Victor. You know what happens when someone in your life just isn't the same anymore? Like they're drifting away from you? Making fancy new friends who you don't like much? Well, Petra can relate.

I just felt that the situation has changed dramatically, that there are strange people coming to Victor, trying to talk to him privately, making some secret deals I was not aware of.

The reason for this shift? Well, back in Prague, Victor was king because Victor had millions.

As long as he was here, he was like a big fish in a very small pond.

But in Zurich, everyone has millions, which meant, of course, that now Victor wanted billions.

Once he decided to live abroad, the pond became much bigger, and that was the time when he really started to change.

Here's the problem, though. The Czech Republic, as it was now known, was less than a day's drive from Zurich. Victor was starting to look over his shoulder. Suppose some Czech secret agents came to arrest him or kidnap him or even kill him. He needed to get further away, much further away. Time for a change of scene. Did I or did I not promise you an exotic locale? Where else? The Bahamas. And Victor makes quite the entrance. He heads straight to the realtor.

He comes in in flip-flops, shorts, scruffy-looking. He goes to me. My name is Victor Cusini. I'm here to buy an island.

Come on. Tell me that again.

My name is Victor Cusini. I'm here to buy an island. I was like, Is he a bullshitter?

Well, of course, we do know the answer to that, but he's not one today.

We went and looked at islands. I organized the seafaring plane. He found an island and he bought it.

An island? An island? And yet for Victor, an island wasn't enough, not even close to enough. He was young and had a lot of money, just like a kid in a candy store. Victor went on the shopping spree to end all shopping sprees. He snapped up some of the most exclusive real estate on the island, including Jimmy Mosco's place. Jimmy was a big shot in the Bahamas. He ran a major construction firm. Victor showed up in his white tennis Ocean Club outfit, walked around and said, I'd buy it. Didn't haggle over price, didn't haggle over anything. If I'd have known that, I would have doubled the price. You still would have bought it. After Jimmy's place, he bought something even fancier, this time for nearly 10 million bucks. And then he spent another 15 mil on improvements. Oh, my God. Forget about the house. You ever seen the swimming pool? It looked like it belonged in a resort. I said, Victor, what are you fucking nuts? And it had and it had beaches on it. That's Ray Darville, and we'll hear a lot more from him later on. Shit, I never seen nothing like that before in my life.

Not even in the movies. It was a 450,000-gallon pool, 10 times the size of a pool of a normal house. But that was Victor. Everything was over the top. At least two of Victor's properties were in a place called Liford Key. It's a gated community, although that doesn't begin to explain how exclusive it is. I mean, it is insanely exclusive. Household names, they love this place. Names like the Bacardis. That's the family that makes the rum, of course. And then there's the Heinz family, ketchup, mustard, that thing. And now Victor, and he makes, well, a whole lot of trouble. Oh, and there's one more household name you're going to know. The name is Bond. Oh, I mean, the name's Connery. Sean Connery. Key, 007 himself. So yeah, Hollywood Stars, Corporate Titans, anyone with serious cash, they love life. Key. It's private, it's gated, and oh, my God, is it dull?

Old money, old people, old lifestyle.

Realtor Mario Carey.

Life a key. Sometimes they call it lifeless key.

Victor's pal, Amir, wasn't a big fan of it either. I found it quite boring. Yacht Club, everybody wearing the same pink and green trousers with pictures of ships around their canvas belts. Pink trousers, pink trousers, canvas belts, and, of course, a beautiful Angora sweater. Nice look, Victor. But seriously, lying on a sun lounge, or picking the sand from between the toes. That was not Victor's dream. Remember, Victor was young. He was still in his early 30s. A boring life and lifeless key was never the plan. No, the plan was to make even more money than he already had, much more money. And to do that, he needed to move in the right circles. And that's why, no matter how sleep-inducing life at Key was, it was exactly where Victor needed to be.

There is so much wealth behind that gate, and he wanted access to a network of wealthy people.

Peter, you've driven round Liford key, right?

Sure have, Joe.

How did they let you in? I thought this place was exclusive.

Well, let's just say I have a contact.

Okay, we'll let you protect your source. But tell me about Lifewood Key. What did you make of the place?

Well, I'd show you a photo, but you're not allowed to take any. There's a strict no cameras policy. It is ultra high security. Most of the properties are hidden behind walls and gates. You do get the occasional glimpse of palatial, multimillion dollar, pastel colored mansions, lots of columns, perfectly manicured lawns, and many of them have names like Seabrees and Heron House.

Okay, I get the picture. Hey, did you see anybody famous?

I'm afraid not. In fact, the only people we saw were the locals who work on the properties. These enormous gardens will not water themselves.

Yeah, it all sounds a.

Bit lifeless. Well, at least the sun was shining.

By now, Victor has a new woman in his life. Remember what his second wife claimed? How she found out what was going on?

I shoved the door open.

And there was Victor in bed with his secretary. That secretary was Ludka, and she and Victor, they're now an item. They even have a couple of kids. The Bahamas is their home. And everyone wants to know Victor. This young guy who's just blown in with pots of cash, he is causing a stir.

He became a buzz, and he got people really hyped. He was young, smart, successful, and available to give others opportunity to make a lot of money. That was his narrative, and people bought it.

He was very charismatic. Victor's smile was one thing. It was, you recall, sensational. But his handshake, that was something else. It's a man's grip, right? He had a handshake like a guerilla. I mean, if you shook his hand, you had to go right in or else he'd break your knuckle. Ow! Now, Victor may have had an incredible handshake and a winning smile, and he may have been a multimillionaire at the tender age of 32. But Victor still had a lot to learn, and Leiford Key was the perfect place to learn it. Yeah, there was plenty of legit cash behind that gate, but he had heard that there was also plenty of cash that wasn't quite so legit. And maybe some corporate rogues and tax dodgers who knew every trick in the book. Oh, yeah, Victor was certain he could learn plenty. So he drew up a list of anyone and everyone who could be useful to him. Top of the list, a fella named Dingman. Michael Dingman, an American billionaire and corporate turnaround artist.

I think when he aligned with Dingman, I gave him a serious amount of clout because Michael Dingman, very well established, a mover and shaker, very respected in the community. That was a very good move for Victor.

Dingman. I know that's a familiar name. Can you remind me who he was, Peter?

He was a big corporate wheeler dealer back in the 1980s. Famous and infamous for gutting companies, for laying people off, and he put millions of dollars in his own pocket.

Was any of this actually against the law?

Well, no, but all of that made him pretty unpopular. He faced a bunch of lawsuits and a ton of bad press.

That's why he ended up in the Bahamas?

He said he liked the island lifestyle. He renounced his US citizenship and became what they call a tax exile, along with all the other tax exiles in Leiford Key, the place was full of them.

Dingman and Kaujone, it's the start of a beautiful relationship. Yeah, there's an age gap, 32 years to be precise. But so what? Dingman had moves and Victor wanted to learn them. It seemed Dingman could see something of himself in the young Victor. What was it he could see? Well, maybe the desire to be filthy, disgustingly, incredibly rich. The two quickly become business partners. They share an office and the scheming begins. But Victor's got a problem, and he is sure Dingman can help. Here's the problem. Remember Harvard Capital? That's the company that made Victor rich and famous. Well, famous in the Czech Republic, anyway. Now, Harvard is based in Prague, but Victor is in the Bahamas, and he is not moving back anytime soon, not unless he plans to get arrested, which he doesn't. So the problem is this. How is Victor going to get his hands on that Harvard cash in Prague? And to make matters worse, right now he doesn't actually have a controlling stake in the company. So it seems he and Dingman cook up a plan, a very cunning plan. You're going to love it. Late March 1996, the middle of absolutely nowhere.

A place called? Valka, Bilovica. Come again? Valka, Bilovica. That's the name of the village. Okay, don't know it. It was a beautiful South Moravian village. Still not ringing any bells. Anyway, whatever it's called, it is not a big place. In fact, it's tiny, and it's four hours from Prague. In the Czech Republic, that's about as far as you can go without falling into Austria. It's hardly the place you'd expect to host a shareholder meeting, let alone this shareholder meeting. A meeting about the future of Harvard Capital, one of the country's most important firms. What's that name again? Valka Bilovica, which I'm sure never had a visit of such a premier, Prague-based company ever before or ever since. Vladimir Jaros should know. He was an analyst keeping a close eye on Harvard Capital and one of the very few who bothered to slept all the way there. The venue, the local village hall. Where they used to have ballets and local bands and village gatherings. No ballet classes today, though. Just a little high finance. So hold on a second. I got to ask, what the hell was Victor doing in a place like this? Well, Victor claimed he couldn't find a decent venue back in Prague.

Yeah, right, Victor. But Petra Vendilova, once one of Victor's chief lieutenants, thought she could see exactly what Victor was up to.

If you organized a shareholder's meeting in the middle of the woods in Moravia on Sunday afternoon, you could bet that not many would be coming to vote.

Yes, the old put the shareholder meeting where no one will go gambit. That was, of course, the purpose. This is all starting to make sense. Big companies don't organize their shareholder gatherings in a small village. But this big company does, because if no one turns up, there's no one to oppose Victor's plan. And guess what? His cunning plan was passed. Now, this cunning plan, Peter, will you do the honors?

Victor's plan was to flip Harvard Capital from a fund into a holding company because holding companies are virtually unregulated.

That would give Victor, I assume, much more freedom to invest the way he wanted without oversight and to collaborate with his buddy, Dingman, without interference.

Exactly. Now, Dingman had his own company, and he claimed he was throwing in $140 million of his own money.

Like pocket change, right?

Yeah, a mere 140 million. By joining forces, Victor and Dingman are able to buy big stakes in a bunch of the newly privatized check companies.

Those include a paper mill, a brewery, and a shipping company, Czechoslovak Oean Shipping. Well, at least it was a shipping company until Victor and Dingman got their hands on it. Guess what they did. They sold all the ships. Journalist Rob Urban. So then it was the Czech Ocean shipping company that didn't own any ships. Victor and Dingman are buying up these firms and selling their crown jewels, their most valuable assets. And there's a name for that, right, Rob? Turner of the Vanny. Wait, isn't that an Italian opera? What are you talking about? It's not anything super technical. It's asset stripping. Peter, it's not an Italian opera?

No, Joe. Tuna Livali, it's actually check, and it means tunneling. As Rob Urban says, it's a type of asset stripping. It's getting control of a company and selling off anything that's valuable.

I assume, pocketing the money.

Of course.

That happened repeatedly. They were able to stealthily gain control of companies before anybody really knew what was happening. Victor and Dingman were very pioneering. It turned out there was a lot of money in Tunavani. Once they sold off the assets, they had cash to burn. It seemed Victor's instinct about Dingman had been spot on. They made the perfect couple and they were rolling in it. So Peter, at this point, how much is Victor worth?

Well, we can't be sure, but we think anywhere from $200 million to as much as $700 million.

Whoa. I'd said over half of that, really.

Here's something else I've been wondering about, Peter. Did any of the people who gave Victor their vouchers, and remember, there were close to a million of them, did any of them get their 10 times return?

Very good question. It seems some did, but an awful lot of them didn't. The ones that didn't, they were not happy about it.

What do you do with hundreds of millions of dollars? You could, I suppose, share it with your investors. But if you're a victor, you spend it. He's already got the island and the places in life with key. I mean, life with key. But seriously, when you live in a place like that, you got to keep up with the Joneses, not to mention the Heinzes and the Bacardis and the Conneries. So suddenly you got to have a private jet. How on earth did you ever manage without one? And then, of course, you got to have a yacht. How else are you going to get to your private island? He names the yacht, you're going to love this, Contemplation. And what else does every self-respecting, multimillionaire need?

Peter Rolls-Royce.

Exactly right. But when you've got money to burn, people tend to see you coming. Victor was about to find that out the hard way. Of course, he could squeeze a buck out of anyone, anytime, any place. But Victor didn't yet have a nose for when the bullshiter was being bullshited.

Buy or beware is the language here for anything you do.

And that led to more than a few ill-advised purchasing decisions. That Rolls-Royce? Sounds like it rolled right off the back of a truck.

I remember riding the Rolls-Royce, the windows won't go down or the air conditioning wasn't working. I was like, Victor, what car is this you got here, man?

Mario was the guy who sold Victor that island.

Anyway, I think he eventually just dumped it. I don't even know if he sold it. I think he just got rid of it. And then he bought a boat.

And the boat? Turned out that had fallen off the back of a truck too.

It was an ex-drug dealer's boat.

Oh, well, at least that's what Mario heard.

And I jumped on the boat and I'm saying, There's something wrong with this boat. It looks good, but there's something wrong with it.

Well, yeah, what was wrong with it was it was an ex-drug dealer's boat, apparently. Because where do drug dealers hide their drugs? Under false floors, which made the whole boating experience pretty discombobulating.

So my senses were like, What's happening here?

Oh, and who sold them the boat? Why? The same guy who sold him the rolls.

He saw Victor coming. Victor had a lot of money. So the guy got Victor a couple of with the Rolls-Royce and the boat.

Yeah.

He was colorful.

All kinds of people were making money off Victor. How much money changed hands in all those real estate deals, Mario?

I got to think about that.

It must have been a few bucks.

Six million, 10 million, maybe 18, maybe about 25 million, maybe. 25 million, 30 million with me. But that's not so bad.

Not bad at at all. Even so, Victor still got more money than he knows what to do with. And he's part of the jet set now. He's spending his cash here, there, everywhere, all at once. The Bahamas, Aspen, New York, Moscow. But being part of the jet set is not just about spending. It's about being seen spending. One night in 1997, oh, boy, was he ever seen. The city, London. The place, Le Gavroche. The ritziest restaurant in town. Peter, how many people were at this dinner?

It was Victor plus two.

What was on the menu?

Well, the starter was papillote of smoked salmon.

Papillote de sable fumé. And what were the main courses?

Filet of beef.

And.

Naverine of lamb.

Peter, it's a good thing you're a writer because you do not make a convincing maitre d'you. Let's face it. But Victor is not really there for the food. He's there for the wine.

Chateau Petrusse Joe?

Not this time, Peter. Try La Tour 1961, a 1945 Eau-Brion. And for the grand finale, a 1967 Chateau de Chem, the greatest of all dessert wines. Victor and his guests are knocking it back. Six bottles of vintage wine in total. Two bottles each. One of them costs eight grand. That's right, $8,000 for a bottle of wine. But guess what Victor does? He sends it back, complains it's too young, suggests the kitchen staff should drink it instead. The check that night? $20,000. When you've got the money that Victor now has, you don't just spend it. It's good form to give some of it away. And the reason you're giving it away is that it buys something else, something that all those expensive toys can't offer. And what's that? Respectability. Victor starts writing big checks to all manner of good causes. Charities. Dear Mr. Kajani, I want to tell you how much I appreciate your recent donation to the foundation in the amount of $30,000. Your most generous gift in the amount of $25,000. Libraries. I write to thank you most sincerely for your generous donation of $10,000. The amount of $10,000. $10,000. Colleges. This very generous contribution will help continue the programs and curriculum already in place.

And, of course, the arts. What's more respectable than that? Dear Ludka and Victor, we were delighted to receive your gift of $210,000 towards your tremendous pledge of $1,050,000. I look forward to having the opportunity to thank you in person for this extraordinary gift, sincerely. And then there was this letter from Harvard. Not Harvard Capital. Harvard University. Dear Mr. Kajne, your gift to the Harvard College Fund is exceptionally generous. Yep, Victor's beloved, Alma Mater. And I want you to know that all of us at the college are very grateful with warmest appreciation and all best wishes. My, oh, my. That is pretty interesting, isn't it, Peter?

It sure is, Joe. After all, Victor basically pinched the Harvard name for his own company, for Harvard Capital.

He never asked for permission, right?

Nope.

But now he's writing them fat checks and they appreciate it.

Seems like everyone's a winner.

Life is good for Victor. I mean, really good. It's 1996, and this is going to be a big year for him. Big in every way. First, he's just about to get married again for the third time. Remember, Ludka? The stuffy old folks in Leiford Key were pressuring the two of them to do the respectable thing. Victor, hoping to placate his influential neighbors, did just that in New York City. To Victor's dismay, St. Patrick's Cathedral, the grand Catholic church in Midtown Manhattan, was already booked. They had to take their vows in the Bronx instead. Then the honeymoon, India, Egypt, and Russia. Although it's not the honeymoon Ludka had dreamt of. Because Victor and Ludka weren't alone. He brought along his entire entourage, assistants, and bodyguards, the whole shebang. This wasn't a honeymoon. It was a business trip. Marrying Ludka is not really why this is Victor's big year. You see, Victor is planning his biggest deal yet, the Ajar... The Ajar... The Ajarajan scheme. The one with all that oil, the one that will make his check voucher scheme seem like child's play. Peter, could we get a little refresher course on that?

This was all about Azerbaijan's crown jewel, Socar.

That's the country's state-owned oil company.

Right. It's a huge company. Victor said it was being privatized and it was going to be up for grabs. And Victor wants it, all of it.

It's going to be Victor's piece de resistance, his grand triumph. But he's not going to do it alone. He's got a partner, Rick Berk. Remember him? We last met him on Victor's private jet. He's the fella who got rich selling handbags.

And there's a lot of money in handbags, Joe.

Stop stepping on my lines, Peter. This bro-mance, blossom over dinner in Aspen. Remember Aspen? That would become Victor's other hotspot. And guess what? This guy, Rick, Victor's new buddy? He was instantly bedazzled. Rick is the first investor in Victor's new scheme. The first of many. Hold on, Peter. We've been here before, right?

We have. It's that incredible Christmas party that Victor threw in Aspen.

Yes, it's all coming back now, Peter. And remind me how much it cost?

Well, over a million bucks. And the purpose of that party was to generate a buzz around Victor's Azerbaijan deal.

Which it did.

Yes.

Ritz at the party, of course. He's loving the bird's nest soup, the smoked Elk Tenderloin, the Cristal, the music by Natalie Cole. And remember that house perched high on top of Red Mountain? Peter, remind me of some of the vitals.

Oh, Joe, how could you forget? There was the $2 million ivory collection, and there was the couch hand-sewn from 33 alligator skins.

Oh, yeah, it's all coming back now. Right. How could I forget?

Yeah, and the twelve car garage with a quarter million dollar armed Mercedes parked in it.

I'm remembering another detail, the hidden mistress suite that's got to be an all-time favorite.

It's my favorite.

Everyone's milling around Victor's enormous place. They're draped over that alligator-skinned couch. They're admiring the ivory. And Victor, of course, is working the room, working his magic, flashing that smile, crushing knuckle with that handshake. He's selling his grand plan, oil, Ajibajan, unimaginable returns, and Rick's looking on in awe. He's seeing dollar signs, the biggest dollar signs he's ever seen, and everyone wants a piece of the action. The buzz about town is off the charts. Remember money manager Aaron Fleck? He was there, too, and he wanted in big time. We talked about the potential of many billions of dollars, more than a hundred times your investments. Pretty soon people are going to be throwing money at him, throwing millions at him. A Wall Street billionaire, one of the world's biggest corporations, a former senior member of the US Senate, one of the most respected guys in Washington. Victor is actually going to have to fend them off as if he's playing hard to get. But there's one man who won't invest. Point-blank refuses. Despite Victor's best efforts to persuade, to charm, to cajole a man very close to Victor. Remember Tun Lavani? Tun Lavani. Tun Lavani. And remember that shareholder meeting inWhere was it again?

Valka Bilovica. Oh, yeah. Yes, the man who helped Victor get his cash out of the Czech Republic. The brains behind Victor's last big venture, the 64-year-old billionaire who saw his younger self in Victor. Dingman. Michael Dingman. A very smart guy indeed, one of Victor's closest pals and confidants. And for this deal, it seems, Victor couldn't persuade him to part with a single cent. I wonder why. Financnie genius. Millione. Cash. Capitalizmos. Investica. Milliarni. Pirates. Prahins. You've been listening to The Pirate of Prague, an Apple original podcast, produced by Blanchard House and hosted by me, Joe and Sarah. The producer is Ben Cryton. The associate producer is Peter Elkind. The writers are Lawrence Grisele, Ben Cryton, and me, Joe and Sarah. Music is by Daniel Lloyd Evans, Louis Nankmanell, and Toby Matamong. Sound design and engineering by Vulkin Kizeltug. Our managing producer is Amika Shortand Roland. The creative director of Blanchard House is Rosie Pi. The executive producer and head of Content at Blanchard House is Lawrence Grisel.