Twenty-Five years ago, I was a salesman renting a desk in a dinky accounting office in Class-C office space in an unglamorous corner of midtown Manhattan. Also renting a desk was a a big, sweaty, middle-aged Aussie named Steve. I only knew Steve had his own "import-export" business and was seldom in the office but when he was he was busy at the fax machine.
One day Steve was terribly excited. He could barely contain himself. The usually serious but always friendly Australian was laughing as he clapped his hands together. In a booming voice he shared with me and a junior accountant the cause of his happiness--he had just broker the sale of a dozen small military craft to the Philippine navy. It was then I learned about the contested Spratlies and the contest for control fo the South China Sea.
When I didn't see him for a couple of weeks I asked that junior account, Joe, if he knew what happened to Steve. I expected to hear about him going on a Caribbean vacation to celebrate his success but that's not what Joe told me.
"Oh, he died."
No further details, except that it was sudden, were provided. I immediately thought it was because he crossed the wrong people in the sale of those gun boats.
This was in 1996 and I'm more convinced of this now than ever.
I imagine Steve may have had an “Oriental type accident”
:: he shared with me and a junior accountant ::
What is that Jr. Accountant doing today?