Craig Whyte: The Wolf Of LOL Street

1. A Rangers player with an STD and sheriff officers turning up at Murray Park to repossess cars. 

2. Peter Robinson offering Craig Whyte a peerage in The House of Lords for a ‘donation’ of £250,000.

3. A rival team owner whom had previously offered to throw a game against Rangers to help them win the league.

4. How many of the referees were Rangers fans which resulted in some favouritism from officials.

The aforementioned four tweets which I have now deleted from my Twitter site –@sitonfence – are from the prologue of Craig Whyte’s book treatment. They caused a frenzy of activity on Twitter. Some accused me of engaging in a spoof. I refer them to today’s Scottish Sun where Craig Whyte rails at my leak. The Sun claims to have the entire document. Forgive me if I demur as they have merely listed the aforementioned bullet points word for word. What they cannot tell you is that one car was repossessed to settle gambling debts.

As explosive as these four tweets are, they are just the tip of the iceberg. Each chapter has its own executive summary with more of the same. As an old hand at breaking exclusives even I was astounded. Craig Whyte goes after a number of targets. His ghostwriter, former Sun reporter Douglas Wight, does not miss one

Mr. Wight is the author or ghostwriter of ten non-fiction books, most recently the autobiography of former snooker star John Virgo  and an updated edition of the autobiography of former world champion boxer Nigel Benn. His previous books include The Laundry Man; a narrative about a Miami lawyer who became a money launderer for Colombian drug cartels and the Mafia.

Whyte and Wight’s 35 page collaboration was sent to four publishers with a view to structuring an agreement to take White’s insights to print. There is the possibility that they won’t bite. If my Twitter activity is anything to go by there is a demographic that cannot wait to get their hands on it. This demographic is drawn from a wide spectrum of fans with the exclusion of Rangers Lite fans. The latter cannot handle the truth. The interest of Celtic fans is the most fervent.

Those praying that it won’t be published include Sir Bribe & Lie and the SFA and the then SPL. David Murray comes out badly. But then what did one expect from a jumped-up spiv who paid a $1m bribe to Lawrence Marlborough to facilitate his equity sale. A bribe revealed exclusively by your humble correspondent.

One wonders if Neil Doncaster is having sleepless nights. White reveals that he had a conversation very early on in his tenure with Doncaster and Rod McKenzie apropos a ‘solvent restructure’ which would have entailed White ring-fencing all the assets in a new company to protect them from the £75m EBT fallout. McKenzie gave this idea a green light more than six months prior to administration. Doncaster was lying through his back teeth when he claimed that the first he had heard news of the impending financial calamity was when it broke in the press on February 14,2012.

The proposed titles of each chapter/executive summary are instructive:

1. Scotland’s Youngest Self-Made Millionaire.

2. Sliding Door moments.

3. Mid-Life Crisis?

4. ‘My Deal.’

5. You Must Be Mad.

6. Red Flags.

7. Great Expectations.

8. From Private Jets to EasyJet.

9. Inside The Blue Room.

10. Across The Divide.

11. The Beautiful Game?

12. A Perfect Storm.

13. Administration

14. Treachery.

15. Public Enemy Number One.

16. The Battle For Rangers.

17.  Shafted.

18. ‘You Are Sevco.’

19. Not Guilty.


In a departure from my normal modus operandi, I do not intend to release 4-19 ‘free to air.’  Yesterday’s exclusives were read by 15,796 visitors. They generated just south of 41,000 hits. Less than one hundred of these visitors have contributed to our site.

Our site is supported by forty-five or so inordinately generous contributors. Others believe that £1-£1.45 per month is sufficient recompense for exclusives such as:

A.The arch-criminal Dave King paying £25,000 for William Stevenson’s hack of Craig Whyte’s hard drive.

B. The Minutes of The SPL meeting which discussed LNS recommendations.

C. A forensic day-by-day account of The Trial of The Century which defied reporting restrictions.

D. David Whitehouse lifting the lid on COPFS and Police Scotland.

E. The public money squandered by DCI Robertson and his pert blonde assistant Jackie O’Neil as they chased their tails across the globe.

The Executive Summaries in 4-19 are explosive. I re-read each three times. The minimum annual subscription to The Sitonfence Speakeasy is £5 plus PayPal fees. I will not send these explosive executive summaries to any readers who have not ventured this minimal amount. I would ask those who have supported our site to venture the same amount. If a change of circumstances precludes this then a donation of one pence should suffice. Each PayPal subscription should include an e-mail address that I will use to remit the document.

As for my unwaged and disadvantaged readers, bear with me. I will send your free copies after I have dealt with those who are waged.

I have put up with the freeloaders for far too long. Should they not pay their dues they won’t have access to Premium Copy. Those who have written to me saying they will never pay can remain in the dark.

They will have to settle for our readers comments on the key findings. I will redact these if necessary.

Is it not high time that you treated yourself or a loved one to a Sitonfence Speakeasy subscription?

Executive Summaries 1-3 and the Epilogue are as follows:

Chapter 1: Scotland’s Youngest Self-Made Millionaire

Craig Whyte’s love for business deals formed at fifteen when he began trading in the financial markets. From an early age he had been interested in making money and he began reading books on how to trade. Before he left school he’d made £20,000.
Craig grew up in Motherwell, the home of Scotland’s steel industry but a place on the cusp of a catastrophic collapse. He started life as a fan of his local team Motherwell – the Steelmen – and went to games at Fir Park with his grandfather. His father owned a plant hire company and his mother ran a baby wear shop. In a time of industrial decline and mass unemployment, the Whytes were a striving middle class entrepreneurial family. Craig attended a private school in Glasgow and it was there that his affection for Rangers FC developed. As a teenager he had a season ticket at Ibrox in the Copland Road stand as Rangers struggled to keep pace with Alex Ferguson’s all-conquering Aberdeen.
Craig left school at sixteen and worked for his father, continuing to trade shares on the side. When his dad sold the firm in the late 1980s, Craig started his own plant hire business. He was just nineteen but, bolstered by a £60,000 bank loan, set up his business in the beating heart of Glasgow’s market trading heritage – the Barras. For two years he enjoyed success, making £100,000-a-year. Then the recession of the early 1990s hit and Craig got his first taste of failure. Over-borrowed and capital starved, he became a victim of the construction industry downturn and was forced to wind up the company. From the ashes rose a small debt free company and Craig had learned valuable lessons in corporate turnarounds.
He formed a second a plant hire company but diversified into service businesses, providing cleaning, security and labour under the banner of the Custom Group. By the late 1990s the firm boasted an eight-figure turnover, he had an apartment in Monaco and drove luxury cars. Now, when he visited Ibrox to watch Rangers, it was from the comfort of the hospitality lounge and a box in the club deck, as David Murray’s revolution of the team turned them into a domestic powerhouse that strived to compete with Europe’s finest.
By the time Craig sold the Custom Group in 2003 his business acumen had attracted attention. He had been included in a book on business and the Sunday Times labelled him Scotland’s youngest self-made millionaire. Recalling those days as a young entrepreneur, Craig tells how these were boom times. But at the same time, his minor involvement with another firm that went bust was to have major repercussions years later.

Chapter 2: Sliding Door Moments
A company in which Craig had been a shareholder, not a director, went bust owing money to the tax office. In the fallout from that case, Craig was disqualified as a company director for seven years, even though he hadn’t even held the position. The debt involved in the case amounted only to around £20,000 but to fight the legal action would have cost him £100,000.
Recounting the first of two ‘Sliding Door’ moments, where his future fortunes seemingly hung on inconsequential decisions, Craig tells why he didn’t fight the judgement. At the time he thought little of it. It did not curtail his activities and he considered it part of the rough and tumble of business. However, his decision not to contest the judgement would come back to haunt him.
On a personal level, Craig was, by this time, a settled family man. He had married partner Kim and they were the proud parents of two daughters. The arrival of a son would complete the family in 2008.
Craig continued to specialise in taking over failing businesses. In some cases it was a messy practise. Several firms he was unable to save but he grew a reputation as someone able to turnaround failing companies.
A colleague offered him a deal to join Merchant House Group, a stockbroker and asset management in London. From 2008 to 2010 he built up a substantial financial services business that boasted a billion pounds under management.
In June 2010 Craig was in his office overlooking St Paul’s Cathedral talking to George Cadbury, of the chocolate making family, about a deal he was doing for a client to buy a club in Scotland. Craig’s interest was peaked. In the second moment that would change the course of his life, he asked: ‘Which club?’
From that moment on life would never be the same again.


Chapter 3: Mid Life Crisis?
At the moment Craig first heard about a potential deal to buy Rangers from David Murray, his contacts were trying to raise money in the Middle East. He asked George Cadbury to keep him informed.
When Cadbury informed Craig the deal had fallen through Craig told him he might be interested in putting something together.
Craig explains here how at the time his marriage had collapsed. He admits he might have been experiencing some kind of mid-life crisis to want to get involved with a football club, but he couldn’t resist.
Through Cadbury, Craig was introduced to property developer Andrew Ellis, the son of a former QPR Chairman, in a pub in Knightsbridge. Ellis was enthusiastic about the deal. For Craig, who had watched Rangers play in the Champions League at Monaco, it was a chance to build on and further the fortunes of his boyhood team.
That Rangers had been experiencing financial problems and were having problems with the bank was well documented but what Craig didn’t fully appreciate was precisely how perilous were the club’s financial straits.
The issue for Craig was how to find the money to finance such a deal. He enlisted the help of a broker colleague, Phil Betts, an expert in asset financing. The deal to buy Rangers consisted of £5.5 million for the equity and £27 million to pay the club’s debts.

Initially Phil Betts couldn’t find anyone willing to fund it. Craig thought that was the end of it. A week later however he came back and said he had found the finance required.
The source of the funds was Octopus Investments, the parent company of Ticketus – a name that would soon be synonymous with Rangers FC.

Craig feels disappointment that to this day he remains the only person connected with Rangers during the blackest period in its history that has been brought to trial, when others committed clear fraud in taking over the club.
Potential legal routes are open to him to right the wrongs put upon him by the SFA and current members of the Rangers’ board. He considers his options in this closing chapter.
As he reflects on the most tortuous period of his life, he acknowledges that he was doomed from the start. Rangers will always be considered an establishment club and he was never considered part of the establishment.
He assesses what he could have done differently and says but for a few small episodes that went against him, he could still have been Rangers’ chief executive to this day.
Looking at the wider picture, as Celtic and fans of rival clubs cling to hopes that Rangers might be stripped of titles won during the period when the EBT scheme was in operation, he insists Rangers have been punished enough – and he pours scorn on the clubs who voted for his old club’s demotion from the Premiership.
And as he picks up the pieces of his career, which only now is he slowly starting to rebuild, he explains his reasons for wanting his story finally to be heard.





True Blue Treachery – An Exclusive Excerpt From Craig Whyte’s New BOOK

True Blue Treachery
“Rangers fans deserve to know the truth about what happened to their club. A fraud was committed – but not by me. And football fans in general will be fascinated to read what really goes on behind the scenes of a top club.”
He’s the man once hailed as the saviour of Rangers who became Public Enemy No 1 among Ibrox fans when the club went bust. In the eyes of Celtic fans he is a hero – as the last man in charge before their fiercest rivals called in the liquidators.
Few people in British sporting history have polarised opinion like Craig Whyte.
In May 2011 Rangers fans greeted his arrival on a wave of optimism, hoping he would transform their fortunes and maintain the club’s dominance over their Glasgow rivals. Ten months later Craig was the subject of death threats as enraged fans bayed for his blood. Yet by the time he was cleared in court of any wrongdoing the tide was beginning to turn. True Rangers fans realised Craig was not the man who should have been in the dock. They suspected many others had conspired to ruin their once proud club – they just had no idea what really went on… until now.
In his explosive book, Craig tells for the first time what really went on inside Ibrox during those turbulent ten months. Not only does he give a full and frank account of what went wrong at Rangers but also he provides a fascinating insight into not just the workings of a top flight football club but one of Britain’s biggest oldest – and most secretive – sporting institutions. And fans of other football teams will be fascinated – and at times appalled – by the antics of players, directors and the behaviour of other clubs.
As the first businessman in the UK to be charged with financial assistance – a charge now facing the former Barclays bosses – Craig’s ordeal at times resembles a Kafkaesque nightmare in which his every attempt to get to the truth of what was happening was met with double-crossing, persecution and obfuscation.
The revelations in Craig’s book include:
• What outgoing owner David Murray hid from the new investors
• How Craig’s attempts to get the club on an even keel were thwarted
• Who stood to gain from Rangers going into administration
• His dismay at the antics of his footballers – on and off the field
• How Rangers are still very much under Masonic influence
• How Scotland’s First Minister offered to help Rangers in their £50 million tax battle with HMRC
• How the DUP – now major players in the UK government – tried to get Craig a seat in the House of Lords
• How one Scottish Premiership side offered to throw a match for money
There is already huge media interest in Craig’s story. National newspaper serialisation is guaranteed. True Blue Treachery will be 75,000 words and delivered three months from signature of contract.
True Blue Treachery
Sample Chapter

Mexico City Airport, 26 November 2014

Davie Cooper. Now there was a player. In those early days of watching Rangers at Ibrox there were games when he was the only player worth watching. He was such a talent I’d have paid the admission just to see him weave his magic down the left wing.
Rangers didn’t have a good team in the mid-Eighties. Under John Greig they struggled to keep pace with Alex Ferguson’s revolution at Aberdeen. The Dons and Dundee United, under the legendary Jim McLean, had created a ‘New Firm’ to challenge the traditional dominance of the two Glasgow giants, Rangers and their ‘Old Firm’ rivals Celtic.
The arrival of first Graeme Souness and then David Murray transformed Rangers’ fortunes. Suddenly they were back, supping at Europe’s top table, only one match away from the first Champions League final in 1993. Under Walter Smith’s management the team matched Celtic’s long-standing feat of nine-in-a-row domestic league titles and – during his second stint in charge – reached the UEFA Cup final in 2008.
I had watched much of this drama unfold, as a teenager in the Copland Road stand, then as a businessman from the hospitality seats – even catching them turn over Monaco, in what for me at the time was a home match, in 2000.
Success, however, had come at a cost. Over-reaching and over-spending had left the club struggling, not just to hold off the ever-present challenge from their rivals from the east end of Glasgow, but the taxman. Murray had taken them so far. They needed a saviour. I needed a new challenge.
What had I been thinking?
These are the kind of thoughts going through my head as my flight begins its descent into Mexico City. That and what yet lies in store for me.
I am a wanted man.
A warrant has been issued for my arrest – for failing to appear in court. My crime? Being the scapegoat. In the absence of any evidence, it would appear the Scottish Crown Office are operating on a policy of finding a guy they think has done something wrong and then trying to find a crime to stick on him.
The irony is that while there are many who have the blood of Rangers on their hands following the club’s liquidation in 2012, I am not one of them. I am the only person not to take a penny out of the club during this sorry saga. Yet I’m the bad guy, apparently.
I have never known a deal like it. Since I took over control of Rangers in May 2011 I can’t believe how many people have been out and out crooks. So many have conned me. Surreal doesn’t come close – I’m living a nightmare. And it’s only going to get worse.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, we are commencing our descent. Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you.’
The announcement is repeated in Spanish. Some of the Japanese passengers around me look bemused at both.
Japan is where I have been for the last few weeks – quite conveniently, it has proved, to be in a country with no formal extradition treaty with the UK when prosecutors are trying to arrest you.
What was supposed to have been my first extended holiday since I began my working life has turned into a game of cat and mouse. When the police first informed my lawyer of their intention to arrest me, they made it clear I was in for some special treatment. They were determined, not only to arrest me but also to hold me in a cell overnight for a court appearance the following day. I have argued that, while I was out of their reach in Japan, I would only agree to return if I could arrive in Glasgow by my own steam. They can arrest me and take me to court but there is no need to hold me for a night. They are desperate to make a show of things. I am public enemy number one, in their eyes, obviously, but eventually, after the date of my original court hearing came and went, they agreed.
So here I am, flying from Japan to Mexico. My intention? To spend a few days exploring some business opportunities, then onto Miami, to London and finally to Glasgow to face the music. I need to make the most of the freedom I still have. Once they arrest me the chances of foreign travel might be severely limited, if they confiscate my passport.
I am the only person who knows my travel plans. Even my understanding girlfriend Charlotte in England doesn’t precisely know when I’m returning. I hold the upper hand, for now anyway.
We land and begin the taxi to the terminal. Another announcement: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, as you disembark this aircraft, could you have your passports ready please. Police are carrying out an inspection.’
I freeze. More confusion on the faces of my Japanese travel companions but this can only mean one thing. They are here for me.
It is two Mexican police officers. As soon as one checks my passport my fear is confirmed. Through broken English, he explains: ‘You are Craig Whyte? Come with us. This probably a mistake – something to do with a football club in Scotland.’
A football club in Scotland. The same words my business colleague George Cadbury had used in my office in London four years earlier when he mentioned he was putting together a takeover deal. When my interest was first peaked. If only I’d not followed that up by asking, ‘Which club?’ If only I’d not been going through a marriage break up, suffering one hell of a midlife crisis and seeking a fresh challenge. If only.
They lead me to a holding room and explain Interpol has instructed them to detain me. Clearly the Scottish police are more on the ball than I’d thought.
‘We can’t allow you to go into Mexico. You have two choices. Either we can put you on a flight back to Japan. Or you can fly to London.’
They are almost apologetic for detaining me. This isn’t an arrest, they say. The choice is mine. The thought of going back to Japan is very tempting. I could hide out there. What would they do then?
To hell with it.
‘Put me on the flight to London.’
The cops are obviously determined to get me for something. It is time to go back and deal with it.
They take me to a holding room with several other people that aren’t being allowed into the country. I look at them all. It’s a sorry bunch. I wonder what they’ve done. Is it any worse than buying a football club? It wasn’t just any football club, was it? We are Rangers. How many times had I hear that – either as a reason for doing something, or used as an excuse not to do something? I thought I knew. I thought I was one of them. How wrong can a person be?
After a short time, they tell me to come. I must be a rarity – a Brit being deported from Mexico.
The Mexican police are polite throughout. They’ve paid for my flight to Heathrow. I am allowed access to my suitcase, so I look out a suit and change from my casual clothes. If the Glasgow cops want their grandstand arrest I better look the part. No one is escorting me from Mexico. No doubt the police will meet me on arrival at Heathrow.
I can only imagine what awaits me. Will I get to speak to a lawyer at any point, or will they whisk me straight to Barlinnie Prison, that big Victorian hellhole on the outskirts of the city, for the next few months while I await a trial? Given everything else that has happened since I’d got involved with Rangers I can’t rule anything out. I am stepping into the unknown. I have no idea what is going to happen. I only know it’s going to be bad.
For a moment, during the flight, I wonder whether there is a chance the police will be so disorganised they might miss me. Perhaps I can sail through passport control as normal.
That thought vanishes the moment I see two uniformed police officers step onto the plane seconds after we grind to a halt. I am right at the back and their slow march up the aisle seems to take an eternity.
‘Craig Whyte? You’re coming with us.’
Hauled off a plane, right in front of everybody. That’s got to be one of life’s most embarrassing moments.
Three more police officers wait to greet me. One tall man with a beard and moustache and a slim blonde woman introduce themselves as Detective Chief Inspector Jim Robertson and his colleague Jacqui O’Neill. The third man appears to be their boss. They seem excited to see me. Clearly this is a big moment for them.
‘Craig Whyte. You’re under arrest.’
I wonder how long DCI Robertson has been waiting to say these words. The formalities over, they escort me through passport control. No queues for detained fugitives. Then it is into a police van to switch terminals for the connecting flight to Glasgow. Once on board we sit at the back of the plane. I am relieved there are no cuffs. This is a ridiculous enough situation without needing to get silly.
I am surprised at how chatty the police are. Robertson tells me what a huge Rangers fan he is. He’s been enjoying investigating this case, meeting all his Rangers heroes.
‘When this is all over,’ he says, smiling,’ maybe we could go for a drink together.’
Bizarre doesn’t even come close.
They have it all arranged so from the moment we touch down and come to a standstill there is transport all the way from the runway to the police station at Mount Florida. All of this for me? I am a special case. It didn’t need to be like this. I would have turned up for questioning, appeared in court on an agreed date, whatever. They are obviously desperate to take me to court in a van.
We arrive at Mount Florida, coincidentally the one closest to Hampden Park, the home of Scottish football. My fear, as the only one charged with any offence in connection with the Rangers inquiry, is how far will they go to make an example of me. Robertson’s admission of his allegiance confirms my suspicions. The police is full of Rangers fans. They are desperate for so-called justice to be seen to be done, regardless of whether they find evidence of wrong-doing or not.
Before I am put in the cell I finally get my phone call. I speak to my lawyer Paul Kavanagh. The night in the cell I accept. What worries me is not getting bail and being held in prison.
‘Don’t worry, you’ll definitely get bail.’
This eases my mind.
When I finally see the inside of the cell it isn’t as bad as I’d feared. I have a blanket and some water. They let me read my book and although it is hardly five-star accommodation I am so tired I actually doze off. I might have been able to get a full night’s rest but an officer appears on the hour every hour to make sure I haven’t topped myself.
In the morning they cuff me for the transfer to the Sheriff Court, where I am held in a cell in the bowels of the building before my appearance before the judge. Within seconds I start pining for the police cell. By comparison this is bloody horrible, just a urinal and a thin wooden bench not big enough to lie on. I am not allowed my book. All I can do is read the graffiti on the walls. Thankfully there is nothing about me on there.
I am still in the same suit I’ve travelled in and I sit there for eight hours. Eventually Paul Kavanagh appears and I am allowed out of the cell to speak to him. A guard helpfully tells me the police are warning that even if I am granted bail they are to arrest me again for an outstanding warrant in England over money I owe over the original purchase of Rangers. This is a separate issue. As I’d been out of the country I hadn’t appeared in court and the judge found me in contempt and had given me a four-week prison sentence. There is now a another warrant out on me. Can the day get any worse?
I’m never getting out. These guys are really out to get me. If they can find a way to keep me locked up they’ll do it.
Paul dismisses these fears in a second: ‘The police don’t have the powers to arrest you. It is an English civil case, not criminal.’
The hearing lasts about twenty minutes. As the police hadn’t been allowed to interview me on my arrest, the prosecutor, or procurator fiscal, now ask me questions on their behalf.
My answer to every one is the same: ‘On the advice of my solicitor I have no comment to make.’
Then come the words I’ve been waiting for all day. ‘You are free to leave.’ The sheriff has granted me bail. I give Charlotte’s address in Lancashire as a bail address as I don’t have anywhere in the UK to live. The police say they will drive me south.
‘Don’t trust the cops,’ Paul says as I prepare to leave. ‘Don’t let them drive you into England just in case they do something with that other warrant.’
That’s reassuring.
Charlotte heads north of the border and the police agree to drop me at a service station on the M74 motorway several miles before we reach England. I am not taking any chances. On the way down the road, DCI Robertson seems more interested in checking himself out on TV. He replays the television coverage of my appearance at court, showing him by my side.
What baffles and infuriates me further is that he calls the lawyer acting for Ticketus, the other party in the English court case. They are like best buddies. How cosy that Police Scotland is cooperating so fully with an English lawyer in a civil matter.
By the time we reach the services and Charlotte greets me the exhaustion of three days on the go finally catches up. Relieved to be away from the police, I nearly collapse when we reach her house.
I have survived the most traumatic day of my life. However, although I can relax, the relief will only be temporary. I have to go to London next week to appear in court over the civil case and the small matter of being sued for the £27.5 million I’d guaranteed for the purchase of Rangers Football Club in 2011. There is a real danger I could go to prison over that.
I sink into the sofa trying to process why I – and not the number of crooks who have profited from the demise of a once proud institution – am the scapegoat.
I drift into a fitful sleep.
The nightmare is just beginning.

True Blue Treachery

No Unwitting Innocent

Yesterday’s denouement, of a two day hearing to address a petition by the Takeover Panel Executive (TPE) was not without incident. However these incidents went largely unreported by the SMSM. I was surprised when Alasdair Lamont of BBC Scotland dropped the ball on the second day. As BBC Scotland is run by Masonic bigots who can swing the lead with the best of them, I suspected that he had been pulled. My well-placed source, who is au fait with the machinations behind the scenes, demurred. He offered that Lamont is central to the broadcasts by Radio Scotland and could not be spared for another day.

In his summing up, James McNeil for the TPE, stated that King was ‘no unwitting innocent.’  King avoided this hearing to avoid being cross-examined. His claim of not having the wherewithal to fund an £11m share purchase offer, as per his affidavit, would have been quickly exposed as a lie.

MICROmega – a company built on mendacity and sand.

No-one can deny that I have been at the front and centre in challenging the Traynor led narrative and in presenting the prosaic facts about King. In July 2015 I wrote the following:

James Traynor is continuing to feed Radio Clyde, Derek Johnstone and anyone who will listen about a utopian King, but he had a real go at Jackson and Ralston when their clever internal politics paved a path for his departure from the Record. Accepting that Whyte was a billionaire with wealth ‘off the radar’ should have led to a much earlier denouement to his mainstream media career, but prior to packing his carboard box of office effects and chin supports, he let rip at his ‘insolent’ former subordinates. Mr Kerr is a much more savvy character than Traynor could ever be.
There are many flaws in the preferred narrative that King had engineered a ‘favourable result.’ Keeping King out of prison was an expensive enterprise. He even employed leading QCs to challenge the authority of The Serious Fraud Office and HMRC in Guernsey. To mount this challenge in The High Courts Of Justice Chancery Division would have cost a minumum of £3-£5M. Only someone as stupid and as inordinately arrogant as King would have taken on the SFO and HMRC. He lost. His funds remained frozen for 7 years.
King states that his legal bill during his ‘pariah’ years was 50M. He did not state which currency he was referring to, which led me to initially believe that he was referring to Rand, until I had a look at his appeal to the Pretoria Supreme Court. The total cost of this enterprise, to King and the state, was £40M. King lost and picked up the state’s costs.
Then there is his arrest and imprisonment on racketeering charges with MICROmega CEO Iain Gregory Morris. Their bail was expensive as was their alleged use of an underworld figure in an attempt to apply pressure to some individuals in the CPA, and when that failed, it was interesting to note that the state’s case collapsed when their expert witnesses failed to attend court.

Some people have called King a psychopath. He is not. He has a white ‘colonial’ attitude that has never accepted the post-apartheid elevation of former ethnic minorities to positions of power and influence. He thought that he could take on SARS and crush them. He failed.
In another post I calculated his net worth as circa £6.9M or £4.4M if he actually paid for his shares in RIFC, which many have reason to doubt because of exchange controls. The money behind New Oasis Asset Limited is not King’s or in his family’s gift. Another individual, most likely to be Gordon Taylor or Douglas Park has staked King.
Finally there is the £50M family trust myth to debunk. His daughter, in whose name the 76% family holding in MICROmega was registered during King’s pariah years, has recently been appointed to the board. She does not have a portfolio of disparate shares. She is the nominee of a group that has acquired a number of smaller companies in South Africa.

King has spent a career on the wrong side of the law, which resulted in 328 charges being acquired over the years. He has allegedly defrauded four of the six major banks in South Africa. He could not raise one rand from any bank in RSA. His reputation precedes him.
King was forced to repatriate NOSA (Hong Kong) that he had previously decoupled from MICROmega, to South African ownership and corporate governance. This led, on inordinately thin trading of less than 11 trades per month, to an exponential growth of 462% of the MMI share value. For two individuals that have lied about their accountancy qualifications for decades, there can be little doubt that when it comes to creative accountancy they have few peers.
If my analysis of the facts exposes the Messiah Mantra, then please continue to put your head in the sand for the next seven years as you await vice-chairman Murray’s patient plan to challenge for titles. Are King apologists satisfied with the rag tag out of contract individuals from Alvechuch FC turning up at Auchenhowie? Are you seeing any over-investing? Has anyone seen the business plan?


So detractors I suggest you stop playing the man and if you have the intellect take on the facts.”

john james (@sitonfence)
July 4, 2015 at 3:17 pm

The deal in which King hived off the Financial Services Division of MMI (its JSE Listed name) in 22 December, 2016, netted King circa £10m. When added to my estimated wealth of £6.9m – assuming he had no ‘Freed capital’ to buy his concert party stake – King had £16.9m to his name. If the NOAL loan in 2016 emanated from King as he would like us to believe, one can deduct £2.2m – £3m to arrive at a quantum of £13.9m – £14.5m. Even if he repaid the loans that were used to purchase his shares, he would still have as a minimum just south of £12m

This amount is more than sufficient to fund a share offer. In my opinion there would be a stampede to sell at 20p, save the deluded who would still cling onto their sepia-toned certificates with the same emotional sentiment in which the shares were originally purchased. £12m would be enough.

I have been telling people since July 2015 that King’s proposed investment of £30m was electioneering bullshit of the first ordure. I highlighted the fact that no NOMAD would touch any company chaired by King. I correctly anticipated that the equity would be de-listed from the junior division of AIM. I called it right time after time.

I engaged in the research. I read all the court transcripts. I had the measure of King. The SMSM ran with the PR fed to them by Traynor and Kerr. They all have egg on their faces this morning. There is no excuse for their slovenly journalism.

Lord Bannatyne will in my considered position legally enforce the TPE edict. King is finished. His written judgment will put King to bed. His contempt of court and Cold Shoulder should bring an end to the failed Sevco project.

We are going back to the future with Sir Bribe & Lie. The puff candy narrative from the SMSM will be just as compelling but on this occasion those who saw King coming will set the agenda.






A Debt Heist

My exclusive on the return of Sir Bribe & Lie to the Blue Room has grown arms and legs and is now swimming in the sectarian cesspools that pass for social media in Govania. The last balanced, measured and informed site, the RSL, closed its doors two years ago. Many thought that it would be business as usual on this site but I am of a different stripe. My mission statement is to publish the truth and highlight the corruption and injustice. I not only lobby, I act, as is evidenced by my correspondence with The Takeover Panel Executive. I risked being sent down for my detailed coverage and forensic analysis of the Craig Whyte trial. When introduced to Charles Green, one of my many sources, he could not fathom how I could be so well informed.

However there is more to this site, our site, than exclusives. I am the proud curator of The Sitonfence Speakeasy. My most popular pieces are read by up to 40,000 individuals on any given day. Forty thousand readers can challenge my facts and opinions at their leisure. If my articles provoke thought and debate, then our speakeasy will thrive. The opinions of my informed and eloquent readers are in high demand.

Some challenge my grasp of the facts on Twitter. David Low, who has followed me on Twitter, @sitonfence, for some time, made the following comment about yesterday’s piece, The Anatomy of a Putsch:

Correct overview, wrong numbers. King finished. RIFC shares worthless. Buy the debt. Action starts pre Christmas.”

Those who don’t know who David Low is probably lurk on Follow Follow, where the blue pound is delivered in a pink purse. The Celtic fans know who he is. Mr. Low lobbied Fergus McCann to save Celtic. David, a financial advisor, is the unsung hero of the Celtic renascence.

I picked up his gauntlet, accessed my archive, and reverted to the figures. Let’s look at the known knowns:

1. Prior to June 30, 2015, the loan quantum was £3.75m.

1.1: £1.5m from King, repayable on demand.
1.2: £750,000 (£250,000 each) of directors’ loans from Park, Bennet & Murray, repayable on demand.
1.3 : £1.5m shareholders loans (Taylor, Letham, Ross, Scott, Murdoch et al) repayable on demand.

2. Prior to June 30, 2016, the loan quantum was £6,275,000. Repayable December 2017. This was purported to be the quantum to pay off Ashley & Sports Direct.

2.1: £2.2m from King (another £800k was available to be drawn down)
2.2: £1.7m from the directors above
2.3: £2.375,000 from shareholders above

An additional £2.9m was borrowed in October 2016.

It is anticipated that a minimum of the 2016 addendum will be required in 2017/2018. As for TRFC, the investment in subsidiaries classification was introduced in 2016. Cross party debt is currently estimated at just north of £26m.

The total of outstanding loans to RIFC is currently £12,925,000.

These loans are not secured on the assets. This is Sir Bribe & Lie’s ‘in.’ SB&L never does things by the book. He acquired Lawrence Marlborough’s equity with a $1m cash bribe. We have his number.

Sir Bribe & Lie will almost certainly acquire sufficient loan debt to be a strategic creditor. A creditor to stymie any post-Administration CVA. RIFC and its subsidiary TRFC would be liquidated. SB&L then acquires the assets from the administrator and hey presto:

Rangers III with a retained place in the Scottish Premiership, and 100% of the equity in Murray’s greedy mits.

Will Slim Shady Traynor be briefing for or against Murray using his alias at Follow Follow? That will depend on much SB&L is prepared to spend on the PR whore. The SMSM is spreading rose petals in the path of Murray. Are there still those who believe that Murray was duped by Craig Whyte?  He was just biding his time. When the barber’s model, who allegedly has a penchant for riding the salon’s floor, turned up at his door with a begging bowl, the countdown to SB&L’s return had commenced.

The blue touchpaper will be lit tomorrow at The Court of Session. Retreat to a safe distance and enjoy the fireworks.