Advertisement

Who is Earl Jones?

Many of his clients say he’s a scam artist, a "monster," or other choice phrases that are unprintable. But a best friend of Earl Jones says the self-proclaimed financier was "a quiet kid, fun to be around … He had a lot of friends."

The youngest of five children, Bertram Earl Jones grew up in the early 1940s in a residential district west of downtown Montreal with his three brothers and one sister. His father earned a living as a photo engraver, and his mother was a housewife.

Jones met Maxine, his bride-to-be, in high school. He was 15, she was 14. They later walked down the aisle in 1966, when there were both in their early 20s.

Jones was a skilled hockey player, playing for one of the Montreal Canadiens’ junior teams, but was deemed too short to make it to the big leagues.

In the late 1960s, Jones and his wife purchased their first house. They didn’t stay there long as the couple was eventually able to trade in modesty for luxury by buying their third home with its own private beach on Lake St. Louis.

Jones had been working at Montreal Trust for years, where he was trained in estate planning and wills. But official records dating back to the 1970s reveal Jones had been involved with and operated a number of businesses over the years.

From 1977 to 1986, Jones operated Earl Jones and Associates, a management advising firm. In 1984, he launched Earl Jones Consultant & Adminstration Corporation, an administration and financial advising company, while still operating Earl Jones and Associates. A 1983 deed of sale listed Jones as a professional trustee — selling a house while acting as co-executor of the homeowner’s estate. But in 1984, Revenue Quebec fined Jones for failing to produce financial documents it had requested.

Some seniors had entrusted their cash to Jones, who also offered to help them with their taxes and rent. But court records show some of these clients were emotionally vulnerable or near death, after Jones sought them out at hospitals or retirement communities. In 1985, he was one of three people named to a short-lived project to build a seniors’ home.

Jones later teamed up with the same partners to form S.C.R. Holdings, where he was secretary and treasurer. But in 1997, Corporations Canada shut down the firm after it failed to file annual tax returns on time.

In 2002, he was the executor of the estate to the owner of D.J. Dressel Associates Ltd. But in December 2008, this firm met the same fate as S.C.R. Holdings — for the same reason.

Until recently, Jones was a popular man. Those close to Jones described him as charming, generous, fun, responsible, reliable and devoted to his family. He was someone you welcomed into your home, someone you trusted with your savings.

Others disagreed. Jones was "too phony" according to Bunny Storey. Her husband, NHL referee Red Storey, wanted to invest with Jones, despite her distrust towards the financier. Now her $500,000 trust fund is gone.

In June 2009, the cheques he sent to friends or clients either bounced or stopped arriving altogether. Why? It was tough to get an answer from Jones because he wasn’t answering his phone. Clients began to assume the worst, that their money was nowhere to be found. Ditto for Jones — no one seemed to know where he was either.

For three weeks, speculation was he had fled the country, but it turns out Jones was hiding in Canada all along. The 67-year-old turned himself into police on July 27, 2009.

Jones was accused of swindling $50 million to $100 million from approximately 130 clients. Maxine Jones and the couple’s two daughters, Kimberly, 35, and Kristine, 34, insisted they knew nothing about the patriarch’s dealings, but would "co-operate fully" with police. Even one of Jones’s daughters was said to have lost money through her father.

Alexander Henderson, an architect, and former partner of Jones, said he was "thunderstruck" by the accusations. "When I read the paper day after day, I find myself more and more astonished," Henderson said, adding he hasn’t spoken to Jones in about a decade. "I find it completely out of character with what I knew of the man."

Jones was released on $30,000 bail on July 28, 2009. His bail conditions dictate he can’t communicate with former clients. He must also surrender his passport and isn’t allowed to leave Quebec.

Maxine filed for divorce on September 14, 2009.

On January 15, 2010, the disgraced financier, wearing a plaid shirt, sweater vest and baggy jeans, finally pleaded guilty to several charges of defrauding pensioners of their life savings. He was jeered by some of his victims as he passed through security at the Montreal courthouse.

Jones showed up in court to enter his surprise plea on what was widely expected to be the third postponement of a date for him to do so.

The guilty plea came a day after a deposition detailing Jones’s version of events was filed in Quebec Superior Court – the first account he has offered of the complicated financial dealings that bilked his clients of $75 million worth of investments.

On February 15, 2010, Jones was sentenced to 11 years in prison. Both the Crown and the defence recommended 11 years for Jones. Because white collar crime is considered non-violent, Jones could serve only one-sixth of his sentence with good behavior. He could be out of prison in 22 months, as soon as the autumn of 2011.

Jones’s victims are planning to file a class-action lawsuit against the Royal Bank of Canada,

A Superior Court judge on Wednesday approved a request to file a class-action lawsuit against the Royal Bank of Canada on behalf of the victims of disgraced Montreal financier Earl Jones. The suit – seeking $40 million in damages – alleges the suburban Montreal bank branch was aware of Jones’s scheme and did nothing to stop him.

With files from the Montreal Gazette’s Anne Sutherland

Advertisement

Sponsored content

AdChoices