|
Chicago
Tribune
March
10, 2002
ACCOUNTING'S
BLOODHOUNDS IN DEMAND
NUMBER CRUNCHING NOW APPEARS SEXY
Craig L. Greene
is a tough guy. He's an accountant too. Doesn't add up? Then step
into Greene's office, where he keeps a collection of FBI caps, and
meet the new breed of number-crunchers.
Greene, a burly
man with a sly smile and the guile of a police detective, is an
accountant with an attitude, a slightly cynical forensics specialist
who investigates white-collar crime and who numbers many FBI agents
among his students at the national Association of Certified Fraud
Examiners. He uses savvy, not a calculator; a computer, not a pencil.
And he is in demand.
Virtually unheard
of 15 years ago, forensic accounting has stormed into the public
consciousness recently amid news accounts of high-profile cases
such as the Enron scandal.
In an age of
increasingly complex business deals and heightened awareness of
white-collar wrongdoing and corporate crime, forensic accounting
has grown fast since surfacing with a splash during the savings-and-loan
crisis of the late 1980s. It's a twist on a dowdy profession, a
milieu of intrigue and daring in a field long known for tedium and
pocket protectors.
Prosecutors
and corporate lawyers frequently enlist their aid.
"Accounting
used to be putting numbers in boxes, but now suddenly you're going
out playing corporate James Bond and chasing down criminals,"
Greene said.
"You've
got to have some street smarts."
Of course, in
many cases, as with Enron, the subjects of scrutiny are accountants
too.
Forensic accountants
have helped sort through the finances of terrorists and played a
part in the undoing of powerful people such as hotelier Leona Helmsley
and, quite possibly, F.Scott Fitzgerald's fictional Jay Gatsby,
according to fraud investigator Michael G. Kessler, who once served
as chief of tax investigations for New York City.
"For a
lot of accountants, it's the sexy side of accounting," said
John Warren, associate general counsel for the Association of Certified
Fraud Examiners. "You're not just going over tax returns all
day, you're sort of fighting crime."
Occasionally
there's even an element of danger, or at least perceived risk. Susan
Henry, a senior manager with BDO Seidman, felt uneasy while investigating
a Mexican factory owned by a U.S. company. Some U.S. nationals working
in Mexico were embezzling money from the factory, though the company
didn't know how--or how much.
"All they
knew was that these employees were living high on the hog,"
Henry said. "So they hired us to do an audit."
As often happens
in forensic accounting, Henry and her associate had to be discreet
as they went about their work. "We went in to do the audit
but we really didn't tell the people there that we were looking
to find out if they were stealing anything," she said.
"One of
the sacred rules of investigating is that the last person you interview
is your target."
Some precarious
situations
In this case,
however, Henry and her associate had to rely on their target for
a ride into the factory each day to study the books.
"We couldn't
take a rental car across the border into Mexico, so he drove us,"
she said. "He knew we were doing an audit, but that's all he
knew.
"It was
kind of a precarious situation."
The man now
is serving prison time, Henry said.
"External
accountants, they're watchdogs. The internal auditors, they're more
like seeing-eye dogs. And a forensic accountant is a bloodhound,"
said Larry Crumbley, a 61-year-old accounting professor at Louisiana
State University who has written a series of detective novels about
a forensic accountant.
"There's
a lot more to it than just crunching numbers," Henry said of
investigating a case. "It involves interviewing and other skills.
The start of any investigation involves interviewing people to find
out the basis of the allegations. Otherwise it would be like looking
for a needle in a haystack."
Forensic accountants
can also be drawn into political investigations. Last month a federal
grand jury subpoenaed records of Gov. George Ryan's fund in connection
with the campaign's report that it had discovered $156,000 in excess
funds in a bank account. A spokesman for the elections board has
said the campaign would hire forensic accountants to trace the origins
of the cash.
Forensic accounting's
recently romanticized image has helped stir interest in the specialty.
The fact that it generally pays better than traditional accounting
doesn't hurt.
"We see
more and more people jumping on the bandwagon today for that simple
reason: There are more fees to be had in forensic accounting,"
said Kessler, who now has his own firm.
Fraud examiners
on increase
Since 1992 the
fraud examiners association has grown from about 7,000 members to
more than 25,000, about 11,700 of whom are accountants or auditors,
Warren said. The organization has added almost 3,500 accountants
to its rolls in the last 10 years.
"We get
a lot more calls from people wondering about how to become forensic
accountants," Warren said. "Since the Enron thing came
up, especially, there's been a noticeable increase. "From time
to time you'll get the odd call from somebody who's got no background
in accounting, the funny e-mail from, say, a wheat farmer who suddenly
has decided his goal in life is to fight fraud."
Some universities
have added courses in forensic accounting. Officials at Indiana
University introduced a graduate-level course five years ago and
have seen it become a popular part of the curriculum, said John
Hill, associate dean of the Kelley School of Business.
As more boutique
accounting firms advertise forensic services and more private-investigative
firms offer accounting along with wiretapping and tailing, the field
has become more competitive, Henry said.
Forensic accountants
sort through the financial tangle of civil and criminal proceedings,
building cases that will hold up in court. They work on everything
from divorces to Enron.
Sometimes it's
as simple as determining assets for a defendant in a lawsuit so
the judge can decide how much to award in damages. Sometimes it's
as complicated as unraveling an elaborate corporate kickback or
embezzlement scheme that might lead to criminal charges.
"You have
to think like a criminal," Crumbley said.
Not surprisingly,
Jack Burke's experience as a Chicago police detective has helped
him immeasurably in his second career as a forensic accountant.
Burke became a public accountant after retiring from the police
department, where he had earned an accounting degree by attending
night school while working days as an auto-theft detective.
Former police
sergeant
Burke was a
sergeant in the police department's financial-crimes unit when he
retired in 1990.
He said, "I
used to tell a joke when our detectives in financial crimes got
measured up for safety vests, that a special qualification of the
vest was that it be able to repel a crazed accountant with a No.
2 pencil."
Now, as president
of Jack Burke & Associates Ltd., Burke himself is an accountant,
and his specialty is forensics.
"It's knowing
something about how to do accounting investigations, but it's also
the general investigative skills--how to unearth information,"
he said.
"Those
are skills that good detectives have learned long ago."
About 15 percent
of the FBI's 12,000 agents worldwide have accounting backgrounds,
agency spokesman Ross Rice said. Though they're not called forensic
accountants, some of them worked with forensic accountants after
Sept. 11 to sort through the tangled finances of the terrorists,
Kessler said.
The romanticized
image of forensic accounting has some basis in reality, Henry said,
"Because it involves something somebody might have done bad,
people equate it with mystery and intrigue."
"But on
the other side of the coin, you're digging down into the books and
records of a company, and you have to be a damn good accountant."
Said Greene,
"The reality is that you spend lots of time hunched over a
computer."
Greene, a partner
in the accounting firm Rome Associates, recently unraveled a corporate
kickback scheme involving a manufacturing company that had hired
his firm to investigate after receiving an anonymous tip. The message
said that an executive of the company was getting kickbacks from
a vendor in Florida.
Greene's first
clue that something was amiss was the address of the vendor. It
looked wrong somehow--like a street in a residential neighborhood,
not a business district.
Calling up maps
and satellite images of Florida on the Internet, he sat in his office
17 stories above downtown Chicago, studied the computer screen and
discovered the address was in a complex of town homes.
Greene flew
to Florida, found the vendor's mother living in the condominium,
smooth-talked her by saying she looked like Sally Field and persuaded
the unwitting woman to show him the books--and the canceled kickback
checks.
He said, "The
evidence we put together is usually so damning, that it's `Let's
make a deal.'"
|