Five Days in Paris With a Billionaire

My secretary buzzed me Alieu was calling from France. I first met Alieu when he was sweeping floors at night while going to school at Long Beach State. He was from Gambia, spoke English well but with an African accent. He was young, always gregarious, and had a flare about him with his gestures. After he completed school he went back to Africa, and I lost track of him for several years. I learned later that he founded a cell-phone company in a small African country and made some money.

Alieu requested I travel to Paris to meet him and a potential business backer. Three days later, I headed for Paris – business class. At Orly I was met by Alieu sitting in one of three Mercedes Benz limousines owned by the potential business partner, an African introduced as Chief. Three cars to meet me seemed odd.

was driven to a chateau like something out of a Hollywood movie but situated some 40-miles outside Paris. It was situated on a 20-acre estate set back from the road. Greenery filled the grounds, with gardens tended, but not manicured. As Alieu and I walked up the front steps, we were greeted by a servant who escorted us to the living room. It was there that I met the Chief. He was a dark-skinned Nigerian, about 65 years of age, 6’0”, and built like a professional line-backer – my guess he was 275 lbs. at a minimum. Like Alieu, he was gregarious, with a firm handshake, and a confidence as he looked you in the eyes. Not threatening at all. He was polished in his speech and manners. I was very relaxed and comfortable with him. His full name was Antonio Deinde Fernandez, but he was called Chief.

We spoke in the living room, with Alieu and one or two others. The room was quite old and large, with overly embellished French furniture, a musty smell, and through French doors it looked out over a 2+ acre lawn. Candidly, it looked better in pictures since you could see the age on the furnishings and the wood panels that covered the walls. Chief read me well that I was quite tired and said his car and driver would follow me to the hotel where we both were to stay. An hour later we arrived at the hotel – The Ritz at the Place Vendome. My luggage was unloaded, and after a brief check-in, off to my room on the 4th or 5th floor. Oddly, no credit card was requested. My room was a small regular room with a high ceiling and ornate decorations on the ceilings and wood panel walls. The Chief was staying in one of the penthouses. Everyone at the hotel not only knew him well but gave him great deference. I would soon learn why.

It turned out the Chief was truly a billionaire several times over. The story told to me he had been a Colonel in the Nigerian Army. During a coup a few years earlier, he was assigned to protect the mint in Lagos which he did in his own manner. Arriving at the mint with two companies of soldiers he confronted the director at the entrance, pulled him aside in a separate room, put a pistol to his temple and ordered the presses to commence printing the largest Nigerian note. He kept the director up all-night printing the notes and they were printed on sheets and stacked on pallets. He had his troops load undried uncut pallets of notes onto two military trucks, had the trucks driven to the Lagos airport, commandeered a C-130 and flew to Paris for asylum. France being France, he was immediately granted asylum with his billion dollars’ worth of Nigerian currency that was backed by oil.

When I met him, he was living permanently in one of the penthouses at The Ritz. He had purchased the chateau where we met, and it had belonged to Napoleon, but he rarely stayed there, and only used it for parties.

It seemed anyone who did anything for him or those in his vicinity – food servers, doormen, waiters, or a beggar on the street received a 100-franc note – which was equal to a 100-dollar bill. When he stayed at The Ritz two cooks stayed up all-night waiting for a room-service call. They would deliver the food themselves.

One evening he took me to dinner at Lasserre. He was greeted as if he owned the place – which he did as he had purchased the building. Lasserre is entered from an elevator to the second-floor restaurant. On summer evenings they open the roof. Upon arriving 100-franc notes all around to anyone in sight. The kitchen staff came out to greet him. They lined-up like an un-disciplined platoon of soldiers – 100-franc notes to everyone.

He ordered dinner for our table. Lobster as a main. Wine, he ordered. Although I don’t know wine – he did. He ordered a bottle of Petrus. I learned later it was one of the most famous wines in the world, and I have kept the dinner bill. The entire dinner, with wine, was around $3,000.00 for three of us. Lots of money in those days.

On my last day he asked how much I charged for a week of my time. The question was a surprise and I quickly answered $10,000. The next morning, I met his driver for my ride to the airport. On my ride to the airport the driver handed me a manila envelope. After I got to the airport I peeked inside – a bundle of 100-franc notes. $10,000 in value.

I still regret I didn’t say $25,000. I have since learned he was one of the wealthiest men in Nigeria and made his money in oil. He died in the late 90’s after having six wives.