8.30am, Oceanic Room: Mostly holiday chat. Geek Boy still in San Fran, Old Tom in Eastbourne. My fortnight at the Eden Roc Miami Beach Resort was amazing. Posh Girl cemented relationship with MAGA Properties guy in Tuscany. 😊
Sporty Girl failed to strike up relations in the Peloton with likely clients during her 1,000km puff through the Pyrenees. 😠
Posh Boy boasted of getting rat-arsed with a Sinaloa Cartel money washer hiding in Bolivia. 😯
Me? 😊😊 Had $600 lunch on the company tab in the hotel’s Nobu with GBH’s Miami boss, Joaquín Zambada Garcia, known in those there parts as ‘El Propiedad’. The tales he tells!
The water table is rising. Miami remains awash with funny money. Washington is trying to quench the flow. A March 2016 US Treasury edict requiring beneficial owners to be fingered saw weekly transactions in Miami-Dade County fall to $5m from $111m. The washers started handing over suitcases of cash, as no disclosure is needed if the place cost less than $1m. Only in the land of the free, eh? This May, Washington cut the cash figure to $300,000.
“Christ, Joaquín!” I said, “the market must have cratered.” “Not at all,” he smiled, shark-like, finally removing his sunglasses. “There are ways and means. Our friend in Mar-a-Lago has been warned. Further federal interference would not be welcome.”
Fair point. Action Point: Pass on number of Posh Boy’s new Bolivian buddy to Joaquín.
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