When the FBI Comes Calling…®
April 27, 2001
Victims get some satisfaction from admissions, pending trial
By JOHN KELLY, Associated Press Writer
Desperate for a lucky break, Joan Kleppe gave her last $200 to two strangers she bumped into at a suburban copy shop because she thought they might be telling the truth: A minister named Clyde Hood could invest her money in a bank overseas and turn it into $10,000 in nine months.
"I really needed the money," Kleppe said. "Easy money is hard to resist when you're in need. If I could spend $100 just to get an extra $50 back, I would have done that."
Five years later, the 75-year old concert trombonist from Schaumburg still has a photocopy of the $200 check she wrote Omega Trust & Trading that August night and the contract promising her a speedy return of 50 times her investment.
The contract turned out to be worthless, leaving Kleppe among thousands of victims worldwide awaiting justice this week when the eclectic gang of alleged con artists behind Omega go on trial for a scheme the government says took in more than $20 million.
Hood was not a minister. Nor was he a cunning international financier as other customers were led to believe. He's a retired electrician who dodged police for six years and might have lasted longer if he and his partners had not raised suspicions in the rural Illinois town of Mattoon by showing off their inexplicable sudden wealth.
A paper trail of bank deposits and lavish purchases helped federal prosecutors indict 19 people, including Hood and his wife, on charges including mail and wire fraud, money laundering and tax evasion.
Eleven, including the Hoods, have pleaded guilty in recent weeks and agreed to testify for the prosecution. At least two more are expected to plead guilty Monday, the day before jury selection begins in Springfield for the trial of the remaining defendants.
"They should all go to jail," Kleppe said.
For many of Omega's investors, the victimization is not as much about the money as it is about the humiliation of banking their hopes on an investment that never existed. Most investors will not give their names to reporters, but willingly told stories about how Omega salespeople exploited their religious beliefs, anti-government sympathies or financial desperation.
Even after the 19 alleged conspirators were arrested, some people who sent Omega money believed the offshore bank deal was going to pay off and bought into tales of a conspiracy by the United States government to prevent them from getting their riches.
Reams of documents filed by federal prosecutors show how Omega partners never invested customers' money, but instead deposited it in their own bank accounts and bought things for themselves and their businesses.
Court records allege Hood kept impatient investors at bay with lie after lie, delivered on a hot line where they could hear a recording explaining his efforts to complete the big deal. Hood once traveled to Switzerland and called some investors to make his stories seem more authentic.
While his guilty plea offered some satisfaction to victims such as Kleppe, she said what she really needs is to get some of her money back. Hood's attorney, Doug McNabb of Houston, said his remorseful client wants that too.
As part of their plea agreements, the defendants have agreed not to challenge the government's seizure of property they bought with Omega funds. McNabb said Hood agreed to that because he wants the government to quickly follow through on its stated goal of getting victims' money back.
"Clyde feels terrible about what took place," McNabb said. "He really is a nice guy. There are a whole host of folks out there who still support him. He has a good heart. He just made bad judgments and decisions."