No One Would Listen: A True Financial Thriller by Harry Markopolos (i wanna iguana read aloud .txt) 📕

come right over that table and go for my throat. I didn’t quite feel that way, but I did understand he was challenging me. It was an incredible moment. After everything we’d been through, after living in fear of a Madoff hit team coming for me, after all that, imagine the absurdity of being attacked by an attorney.

Gaytri stood up, too. “I don’t know what’s going on here. But this is completely uncalled for. It’s certainly not productive for anybody. We don’t have to talk about this.”

He ignored her. “I don’t know where you get off,” he said. “I told you I had a conflict. This is a case I’ve been involved in. You can’t come in here and tell us about ongoing cases and not give us enough details so we can get involved.”

I didn’t know precisely what had triggered Becker’s response. Maybe he simply was insulted that I had called his agency incompetent, or maybe it had something to do with his involvement in the other case, but whatever the reason, he was furious. For a few seconds I really believed he was going to hit me. I tried to calm down the situation. “Listen, I’d love for the SEC to get involved. But you guys don’t have a very good track record. So until you guys prove you’re serious about prosecuting these cases, I’ll take them to the DOJ, the IRS, and other competent government agencies. And when you prove you can do it, I’ll bring them to you.”

David Becker said evenly, “I’m general counsel. I can’t hear this information and be put in this position where I can’t do anything about it. And I’ve told you, I have a conflict.”

Gaytri was still trying to bring peace and harmony to this meeting. “This was supposed to be an informational meeting,” she said to Becker. “We didn’t know you were going to be here. Truthfully, I don’t even know what you’re doing here, but I’m not going to let you attack my client. We were asked to come and speak with Mary Schapiro.”

I don’t remember Mary Schapiro saying a word.

It was never my intention or my desire to cause any problems. But maybe David Becker should have left the room for a few minutes while we discussed that particular case. He didn’t budge, and he gave no indication that he was going to move, so there really was no alternative. Gaytri said, “I think we should adjourn at this point. Come on, Harry, we’re leaving.”

We shook hands with Chairman Schapiro and Steve Cohen, but not with David Becker. He made it pretty obvious he didn’t want anything to do with us. I left that meeting not really confident that the changes in the SEC that I believed were necessary actually were going to be made.

It was time to go home. It was at the airport that I began to understand that my life from that point on was going to be very different than it had been. Because my meeting with Schapiro had not lasted as long as I had anticipated, I had a chance to make an earlier flight to Boston. When I went to the desk at USAir to change my flight, the staff recognized me from TV. The desk clerk extended his hand. “I just want to thank you for what you’ve done, Mr. Markopolos,” he said, actually pronouncing it correctly. “The next flight to Boston is leaving in 10 minutes. I can get you on that one. Don’t worry, we’ll get your suitcase on board; I guarantee it.”

A member of the ground crew literally hand-carried my bag to the airplane. As I sat down in my seat and snapped my seat belt into place, I allowed myself to just relax for the first time in ... I couldn’t remember. But I certainly remember those words from the desk clerk. And those words I savored.

There was considerably more to come in the next few months. The media had become ferocious. The 60 Minutes piece ran in early March 2009. It’s probably accurate to claim that I was the first person from Whitman, Massachusetts, to be profiled on that show; 60 Minutes correspondent Steve Kroft narrated the story. I was “The one person who knows the most and is willing to talk”—but only after being besieged—“Harry Markopolos, the man who figured out Madoff’s scheme before anyone else.”

I saw this piece for the first time sitting in my living room with my family. It’s an odd feeling watching the edited version of the past nine years of your life; it’s a combination of too much and not enough, exactly right and where did that come from? Mostly, though, they got it right. “Until a few months ago Harry Markopolos was an obscure financial analyst and mildly eccentric fraud investigator from Boston....”

Mildly eccentric? Okay, as a quant I actually took that as a compliment. Maybe they thought they were being kind. Actually, I would have preferred being called “wildly eccentric” because that would have impressed my fellow quants, but I accepted “mildly eccentric.”

“... But today he enjoys an almost heroic status....”

I laughed at that line. I have never thought of myself as a hero, unless being a hero has come to mean simply telling the truth, pursuing a criminal, and trying to protect investors and my country’s reputation. Heroes are brave and I know that I wasn’t brave, just frightened. I went forward with the investigation only because it was too risky to turn back or stop. The only way to safety was forward, hoping we could get to the other side in one piece. My team and I had taken too many risks and made a few mistakes in whom we trusted. If Madoff had learned about our pursuit, only bad things would have happened.

The 60 Minutes story showed me speaking at a gathering, at which I began, “I stand before you, a fifty-billion-dollar failure....” To me, that’s much more accurate. I often say, “We saved no