Swindler lived secret double life as high-rolling Vegas casino ‘whale’
SAN FRANCISCO — During the week, Roberto Heckscher was a socially awkward accountant who drove a Saturn and kept an office above a flower shop in a quiet neighborhood. On the weekends, he transformed into a high-rolling casino “whale” in Las Vegas who enjoyed VIP treatment worthy of a sheik.
Heckscher managed to keep this double life secret from most — especially the hundreds of mostly elderly and working-class people who invested their life savings with him — until the night of June 8, 2009. That’s when he swallowed 90 sleeping pills and lay down to die.
One of the longest-running Ponzi schemes in U.S. history had finally collapsed.
Heckscher survived his suicide attempt and is in county jail awaiting assignment to a federal prison. U.S. District Court Judge Susan Illston sentenced him to 20 years in prison for duping at least 290 investors out of at least $50 million over 30 years.
While infamous swindlers such as Bernie Madoff and Kenneth I. Starr stand out for preying on the vanities of the rich and famous, Heckscher’s scam is notable for the patient, methodical way in which he squeezed so much money from investors of mostly modest means.
Many of the victims were clients of Henry Irving, a well-respected neighborhood tax guy in the city’s foggy Sunset District, who hired then-17-year-old Heckscher in 1973. Five years later, Irving was on his deathbed and sold the business to Heckscher. Many of Irving’s clients stayed with Heckscher at the encouragement of Irving’s son, Daniel, who lost $1.7 million in the scheme, according to court documents.
Daniel Irving also feels responsible for $2.3 million he encouraged his mother, sister and several other family members and friends to invest with Heckscher.
Heckscher used the respected accounting business to insinuate himself into a tight-knit neighborhood of modest homes and crowded Catholic churches, even though he was born in South America to Jewish parents who fled Nazi Germany.
He was quirky. His San Mateo home was noted for the porcelain statue of a Rottweiler standing next to porcelain dog droppings at the top of his second-floor landing.
But he was also known for working the scoreboard for the San Francisco Giants and the 49ers when they played at Candlestick Park.
No one suspected that Heckscher was interested in anything more than his clients’ well-being as he consistently pressed them for increased investments.
“I did not lead an extravagant life,” Heckscher, 55, lamented in his suicide note, pleading with investors to forgive him. “Every dollar I made went to pay interest and debts.”
But the veracity of that presumed deathbed claim was belied by his high-roller status in gambling venues.
On one trip to Las Vegas, with Daniel Irving invited along, Caesars Palace employees dressed in their ancient Rome costumes greeted him at the airport as he deplaned from a private jet. Casino executives dined with them at five-star restaurants, and the two stayed in the swankiest suites.
Federal investigators and others testified that the junket was typical of Heckscher’s secret life.
Heckscher “concocted an elaborate scam … in large part to fuel a secret, second, sordid life of gambling in the casinos of Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe and Atlantic City,” Assistant U.S. Attorney Timothy Lucey wrote in court papers arguing for a lengthy prison sentence.
Irving, who considered Heckscher his best friend, said, “How he manipulated that many people for that long is phenomenal.”
Many of his investors are now losing homes and businesses and are putting off medical treatment and cursing themselves for trusting Heckscher.
“My days are bleak,” Evelyn Fahnbulleh, who lost $187,000, told the judge last month during a three-hour sentencing hearing, in which the pudgy Heckscher stared at the floor while former clients lined up to castigate him. “I’m destitute. Penniless. I just feel hopeless.”
Some of his victims are desperately hoping that authorities will find bank accounts and other valuable assets hidden by Heckscher, who was revered for his math acumen. Several have filed lawsuits seeking to recoup their losses.
“He has stashed some away,” said property manager Ralph Geissler, who lost $2.75 million. “He is too shrewd a person and too on top of things not to have done so.”
The judge appointed an investigator to dig into Hecksher’s holdings. The judge scheduled a July 29 hearing to discuss victim restitution.
Heckscher and his attorney insist that most of the money is gone, inevitably lost when the swindler finally failed to recruit fresh investors to keep up interest payments to the old clients. Heckscher said his secret life as a high-roller and Wall Street player had a small effect on the scheme’s collapse.
“Stock trading and gambling were contributors to the present situation, but increasing and continuing interest payments were the main reason for the inevitable end results,” Heckscher said in his suicide note.
His lawyer, Jim Reilly, argued that Heckscher was able to keep the scam going so long because he lived a frugal life.
“What typically causes these things to quickly implode is that the people doing it run around buying expensive houses and all that,” Reilly said. “Roberto didn’t do that.”