be in the background only. It was better for business that way. He still had his broker’s license, but it had acquired a certain tarnish. The luster was diminished. His relationship with the prestigious world of finance had changed.
Working with Jeffrey Pokross had changed things for Cary. He was making money, but he was now burdened with a certain reputation that wasn’t helping him get work at the big-name firms of Wall Street. If he was going to continue working in the securities world and scouring the earth for whatever goodwill he hadn’t yet willed away, he’d have to do so behind the scenes. If there was anything he had learned in the eighties, it was that you could screw up and get caught and still make money on the Street. It wasn’t easy, but it could be done. Not So Plain Jane, Inc., was to be Cary Camino’s solution to this problem of reputation.
The idea was perfect: with Jane’s family money, he would create from nothing a stockbrokerage company, and almost no one besides Cary would know what it was really all about. In corporate filings it was to be listed as the NSPJ Financial Group, which sounded as impressive as the rest of the scam brokerage houses that were again cropping up around Wall Street. It would seek out and reel in investors, promote hot stocks, make millions for everybody. Mostly it would make millions for Cary Cimino. Whenever Cary did any business, he would do it through Not So Plain Jane.
All the checks he would write or have written to him would come from or go through NSPJ. He would be called a consultant. His car was to be leased by NSPJ. His rent would come through there. His one gesture to Jane was to lease her a new red 1989 Jeep Laredo from Three Star, with her family’s money, of course. NSPJ was the disguise that Cary the biology major would use to make his way in the world without the hassle of being seen. The Securities and Exchange Commission wouldn’t see him. The United States Internal Revenue Service wouldn’t see him. The banks and the credit card companies wouldn’t see him. They wouldn’t see him, but he would be there.
“Jane paid for everything. I used NSPJ Financial Group as a means to conduct business. Checks were written to NSPJ for consulting work when I worked with Jeffrey. I started expanding my consulting business and started taking checks in as I started to raise money for other start-up deals.”
In truth, Jeffrey Pokross was the real genius behind Not So Plain Jane. Partnered with Cary, Jeffrey had now branched out into the stock promotion business, specializing in start-ups, companies that were just about to go public. Jeffrey knew all about the stock promotion business. The way Jeffrey planned it, Cary, with his broker’s license, would look for people to make insider commitments on these companies, including his girlfriend’s rich family. Cary had no problem getting them to invest in Jeffrey Pokross’s once-in-a-lifetime deal, without having to explain details or let them know that Jeffrey hadn’t made money legally since he quit his paper route at age ten.
The deal had started at the Vertical Club when Jeffrey and Cary ran into a broker named John who was a senior partner in something called Lowenthal Financial Services. Cary would say he and John formed what he termed “a tacit partnership, and what I mean by tacit, we never had anything formally in writing. It was a handshake partnership.” Translation: his girlfriend’s family also bought Lowenthal Financial Group. His girlfriend’s family took the risk—not Cary. Thus did Cary’s girlfriend and her family become central to a little performance choreographed by Jeffrey Pokross. What is clear is that the purpose of Lowenthal from the day it was purchased was to act as a fig leaf to cover up something Cary and Jeffrey didn’t want everyone to see. It was covering up a reverse merger.
“I had no idea in 1989 what a reverse merger was,” Cary said. “I was trying to get
Working with Jeffrey Pokross had changed things for Cary. He was making money, but he was now burdened with a certain reputation that wasn’t helping him get work at the big-name firms of Wall Street. If he was going to continue working in the securities world and scouring the earth for whatever goodwill he hadn’t yet willed away, he’d have to do so behind the scenes. If there was anything he had learned in the eighties, it was that you could screw up and get caught and still make money on the Street. It wasn’t easy, but it could be done. Not So Plain Jane, Inc., was to be Cary Camino’s solution to this problem of reputation.
The idea was perfect: with Jane’s family money, he would create from nothing a stockbrokerage company, and almost no one besides Cary would know what it was really all about. In corporate filings it was to be listed as the NSPJ Financial Group, which sounded as impressive as the rest of the scam brokerage houses that were again cropping up around Wall Street. It would seek out and reel in investors, promote hot stocks, make millions for everybody. Mostly it would make millions for Cary Cimino. Whenever Cary did any business, he would do it through Not So Plain Jane.
All the checks he would write or have written to him would come from or go through NSPJ. He would be called a consultant. His car was to be leased by NSPJ. His rent would come through there. His one gesture to Jane was to lease her a new red 1989 Jeep Laredo from Three Star, with her family’s money, of course. NSPJ was the disguise that Cary the biology major would use to make his way in the world without the hassle of being seen. The Securities and Exchange Commission wouldn’t see him. The United States Internal Revenue Service wouldn’t see him. The banks and the credit card companies wouldn’t see him. They wouldn’t see him, but he would be there.
“Jane paid for everything. I used NSPJ Financial Group as a means to conduct business. Checks were written to NSPJ for consulting work when I worked with Jeffrey. I started expanding my consulting business and started taking checks in as I started to raise money for other start-up deals.”
In truth, Jeffrey Pokross was the real genius behind Not So Plain Jane. Partnered with Cary, Jeffrey had now branched out into the stock promotion business, specializing in start-ups, companies that were just about to go public. Jeffrey knew all about the stock promotion business. The way Jeffrey planned it, Cary, with his broker’s license, would look for people to make insider commitments on these companies, including his girlfriend’s rich family. Cary had no problem getting them to invest in Jeffrey Pokross’s once-in-a-lifetime deal, without having to explain details or let them know that Jeffrey hadn’t made money legally since he quit his paper route at age ten.
The deal had started at the Vertical Club when Jeffrey and Cary ran into a broker named John who was a senior partner in something called Lowenthal Financial Services. Cary would say he and John formed what he termed “a tacit partnership, and what I mean by tacit, we never had anything formally in writing. It was a handshake partnership.” Translation: his girlfriend’s family also bought Lowenthal Financial Group. His girlfriend’s family took the risk—not Cary. Thus did Cary’s girlfriend and her family become central to a little performance choreographed by Jeffrey Pokross. What is clear is that the purpose of Lowenthal from the day it was purchased was to act as a fig leaf to cover up something Cary and Jeffrey didn’t want everyone to see. It was covering up a reverse merger.
“I had no idea in 1989 what a reverse merger was,” Cary said. “I was trying to get
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