I reminded [Walter Fritz] that I was a journalist; I wrote fact, not fiction. Nor could I accept favors from the subject of a story. But I was curious: What role would the Walter Fritz character play in this hypothetical book, whose underlying ideas, after all, would be entirely his? He gave me a quizzical look. “I wouldn’t have a role in it,” he said.
He wanted, that is, to be the invisible hand.
As I walked back to my car, I realized with something like a shudder that Fritz had hoped to lure me into a trap from which my reputation might never recover. I knew enough about his dealings with King and Laukamp to recognize all the signs: the request for secrecy, the strategic self-effacement, the use of other people for his own enigmatic ends.
Fame and fortune would rain down on me, he’d promised. All I had to do was lower my guard and trust him with all the important details.
This is a really important piece–take the time to read it all.
Fascinating. People believe what they want to believe, and there are always con artists willing to help — and in this case, the con artist seems also to be a true believer in his own fabrications.