He denied ever saying that “it was easy to pull suckers in when the economy was booming”. But whether he found it easy or not, deceive people was precisely what Breifne O’Brien did.
Sentenced today to seven years in jail, O’Brien (53), of Kilmore, Monkstown Grove, Co Dublin, had pleaded guilty in June to 14 sample counts out of a total of 45 charges involving sums of more than €10 million. They included stealing money and dishonestly inducing people to invest in bogus investment schemes between 2003 and 2008.
The businessman made a habit of lying to friends, friends-of-friends and associates for many years, right up until “the house fell down” in 2008. Some of the victims he had known since his university days.
He got some people to part with their cash by saying he was making an investment and needed to demonstrate to the other party that he had the funds on deposit. But instead of leaving their money on deposit, he used it for "myriad of other purposes", as Judge Patricia Ryan noted in her summing up today.
His victims were encouraged to sign up for fake shipping and insurance schemes, as well as bogus property schemes in Paris, Manchester and Hamburg. To back up his personal assurances, he produced faked letters purporting to be from respected businessmen.
At times, a touch of the grand crept in. One of the schemes involved a property on the Place Vendôme, an avenue in the French capital shared with luxury shirt makers Charvet and the Ritz Hotel.
But the money O’Brien obtained from victims was in fact often used to pay back other victims in a practice “absolutely fundamentally characteristic of a Ponzi scheme”, as the prosecuting barrister, Luán Ó Braonáin SC, outlined in a court hearing in July.
Det Garda Sgt Martin Griffin, who investigated the case, described O'Brien's behaviour as a form of "grooming", which he defined in court as "giving certain information to build up trust".
He kept the fantasy going for as long as he could, though some energy was spared for lifestyle upgrades. Millions of euro obtained through theft and deception were used to pay for items such as an extension to his home in Glenageary, Co Dublin; a car for his then wife; an apartment in Barbados.
O’Brien initially denied everything, then he argued that he couldn’t get a fair trial due to adverse publicity. He lost a High Court judicial review on that matter, but appealed the outcome to the Supreme Court, which ruled that the trial could proceed any time after June 2014.
On the day his trial was due to start, there was a change in his plea. He admitted he was guilty of a sample of 14 charges relating to five victims who had suffered losses of about €8.5 million.
O’Brien’s efforts to recover money from some of his assets and return it to his victims was considered as a mitigating factor by the judge when deciding upon his sentence. But the court heard that just €420,000 has been recouped to date and none of that money will be “available for the injured parties”.
His own financial position was outlined in July, when his counsel, Patrick McGrath SC, informed the court that O’Brien was destitute and living on €188 a week. He was divorced and had little contact with his children. Six years had passed since he had spoken to his elderly father, Leo O’Brien, a Cork businessman. His mother, now in her 80s, was characterised on that occasion as his last supporter. She was present in court again today.
Once, O’Brien would have manifested as the flashy epitome of the bubble, the suave, suited guy who had many friends and a wife often referred to as a socialite.
In his court appearances in recent months, however, he has cut a rather pathetic figure - a refugee more from his own lies than anything else.
His counsel suggested at that hearing that the media had displayed “a high level of Schadenfreude” by focusing on “the opulence” that the “socially ruined” O’Brien had displayed in the good times.
But the mentions of his past fondness for the trappings of wealth were designed to illustrate the simple point that they, too, were illusory. Indeed, they were a facet of his deception. There never were any good times, as far as his business was concerned. His success had not been real, and his lies, in the end, were rather ordinary.
“It’s a classic pyramid scheme,” Det Sgt Griffin observed of the theft and deception that was documented in thick ring-binders of evidence. “It comes to a full stop at some stage.”