How a man from Mexia became big man on Antigua

Telegraph:

Surely only a fraudster with a supreme sense of invulnerability – or a shaky grasp of cricket slang – would have the nerve to call his restaurant the Sticky Wicket. But then Sir Robert Allen Stanford has clearly never been short on Texan-style chutzpah. Amid claims that not only the FBI, but also a notorious Mexican drugs cartel are now on his case, Sir Allen is at the crease and facing some very tricky balls.

That said, one could understand if the flamboyant, 6ft 4in financier and sports promoter now at the centre of $8 billion fraud allegations had felt more than usually secure on the small Caribbean island of Antigua.

Visitors alighting at the international airport might be forgiven for thinking they have landed in Stanfordland, a lavishly appointed theme park dedicated to pampering his guests and glorifying his name.

Important clients of a business that reportedly handled up to $51 billion in investments can land at his own private terminal, bypassing standard airport security and customs. It is only a short walk to the Sticky Wicket West Indies Hall of Fame and Restaurant, full of cricket memorabilia and offering great views of the impressive 5,000-capacity Stanford Cricket Ground. It was here, last November, that Sir Allen sat watching his West Indies Stanford Superstars team thrash England, and showed that his sense of entitlement ran well beyond lording it over Antiguan politicians.

As one might be tempted to do when one is a famously flirtatious divorcee who owns the host team, the stadium and the $20 million prize money, Sir Allen opted for the Jabba the Hutt school of corporate perks, and was photographed with the pregnant wife of the England wicketkeeper in his lap and his arm around another WAG.

The Texan, who also annoyed players by sauntering into their dressing room uninvited, was later forced to deny reports that his own girlfriend, Andrea Stoelker, had herself been having an affair with one of the West Indies players.

Just down the road from the stadium, past a tower folly and a Stanford-owned local newspaper, are two of his banks: the on-shore Bank of Antigua, an imposing Georgian-style building, and the offshore Stanford Investment Bank. The former was a popular place this week as investors queued for hours to withdraw their money. Drive just a little further and you are off Stanford property and back on the shoddy roads and among the peeling shacks of the real Antigua.

Such extravagance (his local architect says he never skimped on costs) is hardly surprising from a man who quite literally loves to flash his money – or at least someone's money – around.

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Sir Allen, now 58, moved to Antigua in 1990, five years after his first off-shore banking project – in Montserrat – ended in a British government investigation and the then Mr Stanford voluntarily relinquishing his banking licence. He didn't want to pay US taxes and Antigua had a reputation for minimal financial regulation. The sums of money the Texan was willing to splash around would have caused ripples even in a rich country, but on an island of 70,000 people the Allen Stanford largesse crashed over like a tidal wave.

He bought huge amounts of Antiguan land, much of which he is still developing into new banks and resorts. He bankrolled the building of a desperately needed new hospital. Sir Allen rapidly became the biggest private employer on the island with – another popular statistic – a fortune estimated by Forbes magazine to be $2.2 billion, bigger than Antigua's gross domestic product. The almost feudal grip exercised by a rich white man over a largely black population is not something that many islanders like to acknowledge. Sir Allen was so close to the old Labour party regime of the Bird family dynasty that he was even rumoured to attend Cabinet meetings.

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Although he regularly lunched at the Sticky Wicket, Sir Allen was hardly ever seen on the island, preferring to spend most of his time on his yacht.

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There are no yachts to speak of in landlocked Mexia. It appears that Stanford was till looking to be a big fish in a small pond. Perhaps he wanted to avoid the scrutiny and competition that his business in Houston would have if he were there. Doesn't "sticky wicket" imply a difficult situation? If so, he has found himself in one.