scandal

HISTORY IS WRITTEN BY THE VICTORS

You might say Fearless Leader was back. 

Or maybe he never left. For a former leader with a 12-year prison sentence hanging like the kris of Hang Lekiu over his greying head, Fearless seemed remarkably cheerful as he tramped the hills and dales of Sabah campaigning for the Barisan Nasional (BN). 

Indefatigable was the word to describe Fearless and, watching from his safe haven not in China, Felonious aka Jho the Low, an erstwhile aide-de-camp and not-so-trusty sidekick, whistled admiringly. 

While not safely ensconced in China, Felonious was also rich beyond the dreams of avarice. The fact that Fearless wasn’t safe at all was what elicited the whistle of admiration in the first place but Felonious was nothing if not philosophical. One out of two was still good, shrugged the ample artist. 

“You can’t have everything,” concluded the round robber before turning his attention to more weightier matters of state like how much he had to pay the authorities for another year of not staying in China. It brought a proud smile to Papa Low’s face: that’s my boy, he thought affectionately, always a stickler for detail. 

And it was true too. Detail had been one of the comely girls Felonious had dated in Hollywood but that, grumbled Fearless, was neither “here nor there”. 

“What about me?” grumbled Fearless Leader and it was a good, if loaded, question. 

It was good because its right answer was invariably bad where Fearless was concerned and it was loaded because it looked like he might soon be shot into that place where, without collecting $200, one goes directly to.

How had it come to this? 

The kindly kleptocrat had followed all the right measures, listened to the right people, even read Lloyd George: “To be a successful politician, you have to learn to bury your conscience.” 

Felonious didn’t know about the former but he knew quite a bit about consciences. A pleasantly piquant 1976 Dom Ruinart Blanc would bury it pretty deep, agreed the beefy bandit cheerfully. 

And yet, Fearless remained cool under pressure. This was unlike Mrs Fearless who no longer had anything to say and was saying it so loudly that her silence was deafening. 

It was seriously out of character and it put to the lie the so-called wisdom that she had been the real power behind the throne. 

Nope, it had been Fearless all along. He remained calm, however, by dint of blame: he blamed everyone from Felonious and the bankers to Goldman Sachs and the lawyers. 

In between, he blamed the takers as well, arguing that “if they did not take, he would not have had to give.” It was a compelling argument   which, unfortunately, had no takers. 

Fearless even contemplated blaming it on the bossa-nova and had to be talked out of it by his lawyer, the eminent Scruffy A who took time off his tax-dodging troubles to remonstrate with his client. 

Blame was all right but what Fearless really needed was a good, old-fashioned miracle. He was optimistic and was nothing, if not religious, which was unlike his not-so-trusty sidekick, Felonious, whose faith was such that the church he did not attend was Christian on its off-days. 

You could not say the same about Fearless. Historians will attest that he whispered a mumbled prayer immediately after being sworn in in 2009. 

It was soft but it was clear. “Let us prey,” was the humble entreaty. And the rest, as they say, is history.  

SPEAK SOFTLY AND CARRY A BIG WAD OF CASH

There but for the grace of Beijing go I, breathed Felonious and shuddered so violently that he required two more goblets of soothing Dom Perignon to restore his customary good cheer. 

The chortling char siew, as he was fondly described in Hollywood circles, once thought there were lessons to be learnt in this instance. 

Crime did pay – for nine years at least – until you got caught. And it could have been worse, he told Hairy, his moustache-flashing father, “it could have been me.”  

Or me, thought Hairy Low, his moustache flashing triumphantly because in their case, it was still paying and then some. 

The object of their ruminations was Felonious’ one-time taiko and old-round, best buddy Fearless Leader who had been found guilty of corruption and sentenced to 12 years in jail and fined RM210 million to boot. 

Fearless had the finest lawyer money could buy in the form of Scruffy A, a pit-bull with a beard. Scruffy’s fees alone might have been punishment enough for Fearless, but the man had also come up with a compelling legal defence. 

Shorn of its legal rhetoric, and there were a great many, it boiled down to three phrases: “Who, me?”, “I didn’t know anything”, and “It was all Fatso’s fault.” 

Scruffy was proud of his erudite counsel and thought the latter defence especially brilliant. Alas, his brilliance was extinguished by a no-nonsense Judge Nazlan who dismissed it as “far-fetched, defying logic” and “lacking in credulity.” In short, what Scruffy thought had been lucid reason and sweet clarity, Judge Nazlan ruled as bunkum, hogwash and – his last offer – poppycock.

Indeed, the judge privately thought that even the Boston Strangler had put up a better showing. Still, after all the sound and fury, the tale told by an idiot signifying nothing, it had taken the better part of two years for Fearless’ trial to wend its way through court. 

Even so, the gallant Fearless remained undaunted and promised that an appeal would clear his name. Instead of waiting for said appeal, Scruffy enumerated Judge Nazlan’s “many mistakes” to the media although he magnanimously conceded that the mistakes had all been “honest”. 

But for all of Fearless smugness outside the court, he must have been dismayed by the international headlines he provoked the day after. 

An Australian newspaper ran “Plundering idiot” on its front page while the New York Times had “The fall of Malaysia’s Man of Steal” as its headline. 

On a note of accuracy: If you thought the NYT was punny, you should think local cartoonist Zunar, whose original it is. The paper had written to him asking permission to use it and he’d agreed. 

Fearless had liked Zunar well enough when he was busy skewering Dr M or Abdullah Badawi, but he’d thought the reference to a Super-thief had been in poor taste.

Fearless had been surprised when his coalition lost the 2018 election. But in truth, it wasn’t so surprising: the people had simply read between the lies.

It was that loss that had undone them both, thought Felonious sadly for he longed for the glory days of Equanimity and ice-cold white wine on its moonlit deck. 

The dumpy dim-sum concluded that the secret of success lay in not getting caught. And Felonious resolved to do so by emulating Teddy Roosevelt. 

Henceforth, he would always speak softly and carry a big wad of cash.

When justice is no longer a decision in your favour

Most people thought they knew all about Low Teck Jho.  On matters of style, for example, they knew he had the best taste money could buy.  

It now turns out that the corpulent conman known as Jho Low to pal and prosecutor alike also kept his cards close to his chest. In those days before the wannabe wrongdoer morphed into the fat fugitive he is now, his regular three-nation tours abroad were assumed to be visits to his money. Now it seems it was not just the US, Switzerland and Singapore that held his assets, it was the United Kingdom as well. 

And, if you thought he only owned realty, art and jewellery think again: he owned a lingerie firm in London as well.  

We know all this because of the US authorities. The London office used by the Malaysian miscreant for his luxury lingerie company is to be sold under a forfeiture claim by the United States because, according to US authorities, the property is one of many acquired with money embezzled from IMDB.

And, as per his wont, nothing was too good for him. 

The office as well as a nearby penthouse and apartment was acquired by the tubby thief in 2010 on Stratton Street in the upscale Mayfair neighbourhood. The bad news for the plump pilferer is that he is likely to surrender those monies to the US and Malaysia. 

But he was an optimist. It could be worse, reflected Fatso philosophically, “I could still have been living there.”

You didn’t have to be a philosopher to figure the reasons why he dived into underwear. 

The ample alumnus of Stanford liked to be brief. His speech was clipped and short. His emails were short and generally coded and even his meetings were kept short to discourage questions. 

It explained his foray into lingerie which his associates knew rhymed with “gingerly”. But the bulky brigand put it differently. “Brevity is the soul of lingerie,” he explained and they knew they were in the presence of The Master. 

The dapper delinquent thought he’d masterfully handled his Stratton offices which were used by Myla, the said lingerie company that Low thought could be leveraged into film and profit seeing how he’d bankrolled Red Granite, a film production firm that had, incredibly, produced at least one award-winning film. The firm was headed by a stepson of Fearless Leader who, unlike his chubby consigliore, was facing the music and not safely ensconced in a country that denied it was China. 

In a 2014 email the plump Penangite sent from his Myla account, he introduced a Red Granite Pictures representative to Myla executives to follow up on “any opportunities for Myla in the movie space.

But Hollywood turned up its nose at “Lost Encounters of a Brief Kind” and, instead, happily agreed to “Dumb and Dumber.”

There was no accounting for some people’s tastes, thought the thick thief tranquilly. 

But life was no longer tranquil and the voluminous villain was belatedly realising that the odds of retaining his overseas assets were sinking faster than his associates could mispronounce “Titanic”. The US had brought thirty forfeiture suits against him and, cumulatively, was seeking real estate, investments, art and jewellery valued at US$1.7billion (RM7.14 billion) that Fatty and his accomplices had bought with their ill-gotten gains. 

He could not go to the US to defend those suits because he would be arrested if he did.  But as long as he wasn’t there, he would lose.  

It was ironic, he thought, but it was better than Fearless’ position. 

Crime meant never having to say you were sorry. 

Live Free And Life Is Worth Living

Behind every great fortune is a crime

French philosopher Balzac

The poor and ignorant will continue to lie and steal so long as the rich and educated show them how

American writer Elbert Hubbard

The Felonious Fatso known as Jho Low is officially not hiding out in China and we have this on good authority because the Chinese Ambassador to Malaysia said so and he wouldn’t lie, would he? 

The plump pirate from Penang didn’t know and didn’t care because he was too busy not hiding out in China to notice. He had other things on his mind. 

For one thing, the super yacht formerly known as Equanimity was now owned by Genting Malaysia and renamed Tranquillity. Felonious felt sick: there was nothing tranquil about the times. 

The trial of his mentor, friend and all-round good guy, the former Fearless Leader had begun and he’d noticed with foreboding that FL’s lawyers at one point seemed bent on incriminating him.

Felonious was shocked. He knew the law as well as any outlaw and he knew he was innocent because the law was clear: a man was guilty unless proven wealthy. 

And he knew he was wealthy because even the US’ Department of Justice said so. Of course, Felonious himself did not think of himself as wealthy. He liked to think of himself as a poor man with “allegedly” lots of money.  

The fugitive fatty liked the word “alleged.” In fact, he liked it a lot as it seemed to cover a multitude of sins without actually incriminating anyone.

He also thought the Irish were ahead of their time. In Ireland, apparently, there was a judicial category called “not proven” which, in effect, meant: “you’re guilty as sin and don’t ever try it again.” 

At any one time, the émigré not presently ensconced in China stood accused of a great many things. Right now, the beefy brigand was accused of perjury and obstruction of justice. Or, as his public relations’ people would have it, his press releases. 

Indeed, his latest press release “welcomed” the US authorities’ recent deal to recover stolen 1MDB monies: jewellery worth US$1.7 million (RM7 million) had been seized by them. 

And why was Felonious happy about that? 

The surrender of jewellery bought for his mother “did not amount to an admission of wrongdoing.”  

And the fraudulent fatso cheerfully looked forward to a “continued and amicable resolution of all remaining issues.”  

For the record, the DoJ has maintained that all the assets it has seized and is seeking to seize – or “issues” as Felonious would say – were from the dapper delinquent’s various investments using monies “allegedly” stolen from 1MDB. 

So far almost RM700 million has been seized or accepted as settlements by the US government but the cherubic charlatan remained unfazed: it did not amount to any admission of “wrongdoing.”

Add to that the seizure of a $US250 million yacht and a multimillion dollar private jet and only one haunting question remains.  How much did the fat felon stash away in the first place?

He Who Laughs Last Is Usually In Hiding

The Felonious Fatso also known as Jho Low has spent, sorry, sent another missile Putrajaya’s way.

Felonious was outraged over the recent sale of the super yacht, Equanimity by the Malaysian government to Genting Malaysia for US$126 million. The boat, apparently, had cost US$250 million.

Genting, said Felonious who was a stickler for details, had bought the boat for a “steal.”

Lim the Younger agreed that someone had bought the boat with a “steal” – a whopper at that – but he did not think it had been Genting.

Neither did Tommy Thomas and he was very desirous of meeting Felonious, which puzzled the smiling swindler because he’d never known or even met Mr Thomas. Actually, a great many people from Singapore to San Francisco wanted to meet the cherubic charlatan but that, Felonious agreed, was “neither here nor there.”

Indeed, when you got right down to it, Felonious thought he was better off being there than here.

While safely being there rather than in Kuala Lumpur, the pudgy pilferer communicated his ire to the Federal Government by way of his spokesman Benjamin Haslem, the Co-Chief Executive Officer of Messrs Wells, Haslem, Mayhew Strategic Public Affairs.

The firm was an eminent body of public relations’ strategists and one so august that even Felonious, an admittedly well-heeled heel, had to have his cardiologist present when they sent him their monthly bills.

To cut a long story short, Wells, Haslem and Mayhew said that Felonious thought that Putrajaya was both inept and incompetent for selling the boat below market and at a “bargain basement” price.

Of course, the real wonder of it all was the fact that the furtive fatso had so tamely surrendered a billion-ringgit yacht and a multimillion dollar private plane without so much as some kind of fight, even a legal challenge.

“Easy come, easy go,” shrugged the-suddenly philosophical plunderer.

But you had to give the man credit for taste.

The 300-foot Equanimity, the 60th biggest yacht in the world, was truly spectacular. Among other things, it had a spa and a beach club, complete with sauna, steam room and multi-faceted beauty salon.

The spa area led on to a fully equipped gym and Pilates studio. Needless to say, there was a pool and did I forget to mention a helipad?

And it could take 26 guests comfortably with a mammoth master bedroom. It was Hotel California come to life with mirrors on the ceiling and pink champagne on ice.

During Felonious’ heyday, the yacht’s larders groaned with the finest French wines and the choicest Parma hams. There were grapes from Spain, pomegranates from Greece, figs from Iran and cold cuts from Portugal. Beluga caviar was consumed like it was going out of style while Cuban cigars were an after-dinner must-have.

The word “equanimity” means calmness and assurance even in the face of crisis. One had to admit that Felonious exhibited the trait admirably in the way he broke the news to his father at the material time Malaysian agents began swarming all over the ship.

Somewhere in China….

A calm Felonious: “Dad, I have good news and bad news”.

Father: “OK, let’s hear the worst of it. “

“The Malaysian government’s just seized our ship in Bali.”

“What can possibly be good about that?”

“We weren’t on board”.