Amazing returns lured investors

00:38, Nov 18 2012
David Ross
David Ross, standing, in earlier days with Peter Burgess and Peter O'Neal of Leadenhall.

Visitors to the 14th floor of Morrison Kent House in Central Wellington are greeted by possibly the least auspicious entrance to a boutique fund manager imaginable.

A simple plastic logo consisting of plastic letters Ross Asset Management is glued to a pale wooden veneer. One of the letters is broken.

But behind the locked doors lie the remnants of something much more damaged than the name plate, with growing fear that the office was the nerve centre of what could turn out to be New Zealand's largest ever Ponzi scheme.

The company was founded by David Ross, who appears to have run the business with little more than basic administrative support. Hundreds of investors were attracted by extraordinary returns, which PwC says may have averaged 25 per cent a year since 2000.

But there are growing concerns the returns will turn out to be fictitious, with Ross effectively standing accused of overstating the value of the assets he managed by $440 million, or 97 per cent, given little more than $10m has been uncovered so far.

The office has been locked since the Financial Markets Authority (FMA) executed a search warrant and broke in on October 31, after Ross failed to respond to a demand to explain why his investors were complaining that they were unable to get their money.


Sources close to the FMA are drawing comparisons to Bernie Madoff, the New York investment manager responsible for a Ponzi scheme believed to be the largest fraud in US history.

Attracted by fantastic returns, the gains Madoff's clients saw were actually just the deposits of subsequent investors, a kind of pyramid scheme named after a 1920s US conman.

But where Madoff's fraud was sophisticated (it escaped detection even during an investigation by the US Securities and Exchange Commission) the problems at Ross - be they fraudulent or not - do not appear to have been looked for.

It was never audited, and did not need to be, apparently because the company may have misrepresented what it was offering.


David Ross' clients were attracted by his track record. Once a senior investment analyst for ANZ, he left to become investment manager at Leadenhall, a prestigious investment manager in 1980s Wellington, which at one point managed $600m.

A promotional blurb from the time gives insight to his strategy.

"If the market is not there, we go out and make it. We owe it to our clients not to sit back and wait for change."

By the time Leadenhall was taken over by South Pacific Finance in 1990 (some describe the takeover as a "rescue") Ross had left the company to set up on his own.

The progress of the company is not clear, but until last month clients believed he was holding investments worth $450m on their behalf.

Bruce Tichbon, a semi-retired Palmerston North businessman, who now represents a large group of Ross' investors, described Ross as a modest, softly-spoken man, who would take time to meet with any client, often sharing coffee or meals.

"He seemed to know everything about what was going on in the market, and he had a fantastic track record for picking the market."

The personal style is believed to have attracted many retired farmers from Wairarapa and Manawatu, who trusted him with large chunks of cash after selling up. Some entrusted virtually all of their money to Ross.

But if Ross was held in high regard by clients apparently willing to believe he could consistently make returns in excess of 30 per cent, he was also respected by his peers.

He was, according to some, "peerless" in New Zealand when it came to selecting which of the early stage "penny dreadful" mining companies would be successful. Kapiti investment adviser Chris Lee said while there were many "punters" in the same space, gamblers who pretended to be experts, Ross had a proven track record.

But not everyone was convinced, or so they claim now, with some apparently concerned about Ross Asset Management's total lack of sophistication.

Aided only by "two office girls", there were no accountants, treasury experts or audit trail, as would be expected in modern fund management.

Whereas in other jurisdictions fund managers are required to provide regulators with constant access to bank accounts and submit to probing audit, Ross was able to operate in such a way that his business was apparently never checked by a professional until receivers PwC were charged with unwinding the mess.

"It's no wonder the Australians think we're bunnies," a fund manager said.


Sue Brown, the FMA's head of primary regulation, says if there were stories going around doubting Ross' operations, they were never shared with the regulator.

"It is an old boy's club," Brown said of the fund management industry. "Some of the old boys should talk to the old girls some time . . . If you've got concerns come and talk to us".

Brown says it appears Ross may have been misrepresenting what kind of operation it was, claiming to be investing on behalf of investors into specific assets, designed to reflect specific appetites for risk.

In fact the funds appear to have been aggregated into a single pool.

This meant Ross was not audited, because he was simply an adviser, rather than someone who offered investment products.

It is hoped that the Financial Markets Conduct Bill, currently progressing through Parliament, will address the lack of oversight on service offerers.

Brown says the FMA began investigating the Ross situation as soon as complaints were received in writing, and used its power to raid offices for the first time.

This showed the regulator was "willing and able" to act when serious matters were brought to its attention.

Ross himself is apparently incapacitated, with the FMA referring all questions about his health to lawyers Chapman Tripp, which would say only that he is in hospital.

Ross' brother Greg, a Queenstown real estate agent with whom he jointly owns several properties, is not returning calls.

On Thursday, no one answered the door at Ross' home, in an exclusive part of Lower Hutt, which he shares with his wife Jillian.

But shortly after The Dominion Post rang the bell on the locked security gate outside, a middle-aged woman was seen scooping leaves from the swimming pool at the rear of the couple's well equipped home.

This was just hours after his clients learnt that it appeared they would get scarcely any of the money invested with Ross back.

Contact Hamish Rutherford
Business reporter
Twitter: @oneforthedr

The Dominion Post