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It's late November 1998 at a private club in West Palm Beach, Florida.

Bernie made off reclines in a chez lounge next to the pool.

He pushes up his sunglasses, takes a sip of champagne, as a warm breeze blows through his hair.

Nothing beats Florida this time of year.

Made off turns over and looks at his wife Ruth.

From the outside they've got the perfect life, lounging at a private club that costs $100,000 to join.

The stock market is booming and made off now manages billions of dollars of investments.

Made off shuts his eyes, as the sun beats down on his back and lets himself drift away, far from the hedge funds and commodity stocks, and far from the deep hole he's dug himself into.

He'll deal with all of that at some point.

Right now, he won't let anything remind him of the troubles that wait for him back in New York City.

But Made Off's peace of mind is suddenly shattered when he hears a pair of approaching footsteps.

He opens his eyes and in front of him he sees a pair of alligator leather shoes.

The bag of golf clubs then drops on the ground.

This can be only one man.

Well Bob Jaffy, you're looking like a million dollars.

I was hoping you'd say a billion, but we can start there.

What can I do for you?

Well Bernie, I was hoping we could talk business.

I've got some news about LED's L.

Made Off sits up, because now is no time to relax.

For years he's been losing billions of dollars in investments, but his clients don't know it.

...