Sheikhs, Lies and Real Estate: The Untold Story of Dubai (19 page)

And so I told him the whole story of how Jamal
and I had come up with the idea, Lucky’s involvement, the meeting at his
offices, and Lucky’s subsequent investment. I told him how the fund would be
structured, the fee model and who we would target as investors. Tariq didn’t
say a word. Instead, he listened attentively until I stopped speaking.

‘Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Between
you and me, we have also been looking to set up an investment division within
Milestone for a while now, so I can see the rationale. Let me have a think
about this. I think there may be a way for us to work together.’

We didn’t talk about real estate for the rest
of the evening. Tariq told me stories of the old days in London with my uncle
Ali, many of which were quite amusing. I ate more cheesecake and sipped more
tea, until I looked at my watch and realised it was getting rather late.

‘Well thank you Tariq for a very pleasant
evening. It’s been a pleasure.’

‘Absolutely’, said Tariq. ‘I will give your
fund idea some thought. Do keep in touch.’

He ordered me a cab and I made my way home.   

***

The next morning, Jamal called me at work and he sounded
anxious. ‘I have some news. There’s been a slight hiccup with the fund.’

‘What kind of hiccup?’

‘Well, it’s Lucky and his people. They have
changed their mind about seeding the fund.’

My heart sank. ‘What? They don’t want to go
ahead?’

‘No, they do. But they want to do things
differently to what we originally agreed. They now want to seed the fund with
assets rather than cash.’

I was starting to panic. ‘What assets do they
have in mind?’

‘Well, apparently they own four plots in Ras Al
Khaimah. They want to use them as seed assets for the fund. It shouldn’t be a
big problem.’

But it was. Plots of land in Ras Al Khaimah
were not exactly the most sought-after, and replacing capital with dead assets
was not exactly the ideal start for our new project. I was getting suspicious
that Lucky was using the fund as a vehicle to offload bad investments that his
group had no hope of selling for a profit. And if it was unlikely that these
assets would ever rise in value, it was also unlikely that they would ever
generate a return for our investors.

‘Jamal, I need to think about this. Let me...’ Call
waiting buzzed with a number I didn’t recognise. ‘Jamal, I’m getting another
call, I’m going to have to call you back.’

‘Ok, sure.’

 I answered the waiting number. ‘Hello?’

‘Good morning,’ said a gruff Indian voice. ‘This
is Rav Singh, the Chief Financial Officer of Milestone Properties. Can you
speak for a moment?’

I jumped up suddenly. ‘Yes, sure, go ahead.’

‘I have discussed the proposal that you made to
Tariq Sharaf. I would like to meet you to discuss how Milestone can add value
to this project. Are you free to meet tonight?’

‘Erm, yes, sure.’

‘Very good. See you in the lobby at the Dhow
Palace at eight pm.’ He hung up. I tried to call Jamal back but he didn’t
answer.

***

That evening after work, I made my way to the
Dhow Palace hotel in Bur Dubai. In the small lobby, a large Indian man sat
alone, sipping on a cappuccino as he waited. He looked more like a professor
than a property executive, with a grey beard and big bushy hair, and dressed in
a tweed jacket and brown baggy trousers.

‘Rav?’

‘Yes, nice to meet you, Adam,’ he replied in a
quasi-Indian accent. ‘Please take a seat. Can I get you anything?’

‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’ 

‘Okay. So let’s get down to business. Tariq has
asked me to tell you that he was very impressed with your fund idea. We have
discussed it and we agree it makes a lot of sense. So Tariq has asked me to put
a proposal to you.’

‘A proposal?’

‘Yes, a proposal. Tariq would like you to set
up this fund under the Milestone brand. He wants to bring you into the company
and will give you a salary and a housing allowance. He will also give you
equity in the fund and a share of the management fee. We will provide a
pipeline of deals to the fund and act as its exclusive broker. But you must set
this up as a
Milestone
fund.’  

I was speechless. ‘Wow, I really wasn’t
expecting this. I had only just asked for his opinion. I really need to talk
this over with my business partner before I can agree to anything.’

‘But there is a condition,’ added Rav.

‘What kind of condition?’

‘Tariq doesn’t want anybody else to be involved
in this project. He only wants you.’ Rav spoke in a robotic tone, devoid of
emotion.

‘You mean he doesn’t want Jamal to be involved?’

‘That is correct. Tariq feels that Jamal’s
participation is not necessary.’

I began to lose my cool. ‘But Jamal is my
partner and this is our idea!’

‘I’m sorry, but this is the proposal I have
been asked to put to you.’

‘Look, tell Tariq I’m going to have to think
about this.’

‘Please take your time, but Tariq would like to
know this week or the deal is off.’ He got up to leave. ‘Goodnight.’

Rav left and I sat alone in the lobby in disbelief.
Tariq had made me an offer I couldn’t really refuse, but in return I was being
asked to betray my business partner and mentor. Turning my back on Jamal was
going against every shred of conscience I possessed. He had taught me
everything I knew about private equity and encouraged me to take this risk in
the first place. However, considering that Lucky’s involvement was now in
jeopardy, there also was a real risk of losing both opportunities. Without
Lucky there was no fund, which meant that if I didn’t take Tariq’s offer I
could be missing out on a chance to work with one of the biggest names in the
market.

I spent most of the night thinking about it,
and by the time the early streaks of morning sunlight were shining through my
curtains, I had made a decision. I had to speak to Tariq himself.

‘Hey, how are you doing?’ asked Tariq after
answering my call early that morning.

‘I’m okay, thanks. Listen, Tariq, I met up with
Rav yesterday, as you know, and I need to discuss...’

Tariq interrupted. ‘Why don’t you come over to
the house so we can have a chat?’

It was too important an offer to pass up. ‘I’m
on my way.’

The moment I arrived at the house, Akbar was
loading up the white Range Rover in the drive with a picnic hamper.

‘Hi, Akbar, where is Mr Tariq?’

‘Sir is in the kitchen,’ he replied.

‘Hey, glad you could make it,’ said Tariq as I
walked inside. ‘I want to introduce you to the family.’ A pretty middle-aged
lady dressed in a chemise and sandals came in behind me.

‘Hey, Ayesha, this is Ali’s nephew I told you
about. Handsome boy, don’t you think?’

‘Oh hello, it’s nice to meet you finally,’ said
Tariq’s wife, Ayesha. ‘Are you joining us for lunch today?’

‘Yes, if that’s okay.’

‘Of course! I hope you like strawberry
cheesecake.’

‘Yes, very much.’

Two little kids rushed into the kitchen
screaming with joy. ‘And this is little Sabah and Salim.’ Tariq picked up Sabah
as she struggled to break free. ‘Behave, young lady, we have a guest.’

‘Okay, daddy,’ she replied with the cutest
smile.

‘Good girl. Now get in the car. We’re ready to
go.’

‘Go where?’ I asked.

‘We’re having lunch at our villa on the Palm. I
was hoping you could join us.’

It was an unexpected invitation, but I was no
position to turn it down. ‘Erm, okay, sure. That would be lovely.’

‘Great. Let’s go.’

We climbed into the 4x4 one by one. Tariq
decided to drive himself, while Akbar sat next to him and I got in the back
with Ayesha and the kids. I was secretly quite excited, as I had never actually
been on the Palm Jumeirah before. We drove across an intricate network of
winding highways and twisting roads towards the marina and the coast.
Eventually, the road straightened and I could see the beach disappear below us before
we were surrounded by the clear blue ocean.

A warning alarm began to sound in the car: ‘Please
turn around, please turn around!’

‘What’s going on? What’s that noise?’ I asked in
a panic.  

‘Don’t worry, it’s just the satellite
navigation system,’ replied Tariq calmly. ‘It thinks we’re driving into the
middle of the ocean. Remember, only a couple of years ago there was no landmass
here. It was only the open sea.’

As we continued up the trunk of the palm, it
was difficult to believe that this was actually a manmade island. It felt like
any other street in Dubai, with palm trees, traffic lights and zebra crossings.
Apartment blocks lined the six-lane road on either side, yet there was
considerable construction in progress, suggesting that the island was far from
finished still. As the ‘trunk’ ended, we drove towards the fronds of the palm and
the villas. And as we entered Frond H, the road became eerily quiet. The giant
villas on either side looked deserted, although many boasted gleaming sports
cars in their large driveways.

We pulled up at Tariq’s villa and there it was,
the object of my desires: a beautiful black Porsche 911 Turbo.

‘That’s my baby,’ said Tariq when he noticed me
drooling.

‘She’s beautiful!’

‘Yeah, she’s a beast. Maybe we can go for a
spin if we have time later.’

‘Really? That would be amazing!’

‘Sure. Come inside. Let me give you the grand
tour.’

The villa was enormous. The lounge was infinitely
spacious, with a two-storey window that looked out onto the private beach
outside the patio. A double spiral staircase ascended high above the marble-floored
atrium, and the kitchen was the biggest I had ever seen.

By the time we finished the tour of the house,
Akbar had already set out the picnic on the outdoor terrace and we sat down for
lunch. To our right was a panoramic view of the Dubai coastline and the towers
of the Marina. In the distance ahead I could see the emerging structure of the
Atlantis hotel on the outer rim of the Palm, which was now less than a year
away from its grand opening. 

‘What do you say we step out for a spin in the
Porsche?’ asked Tariq when we had finished lunch.

It was the offer I had been waiting for from
the moment I had laid eyes on it. ‘Sure, that would be amazing!’ I replied
immediately.

‘Boys and their toys,’ said Ayesha, rolling her
eyes affectionately.

‘Great. We’ll be back soon.’

‘I haven’t taken this baby out for a while,’ added
Tariq as he started the engine with a mighty roar, which brought an instant smile
to my face. We slowly pulled out of the driveway and drove back onto the trunk
of the Palm. ‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’ he asked, hardly accelerating beyond 40
kilometres an hour. I nodded, too excited to speak.

‘So tell me, what do you want from your life?’
he asked as we left the Palm and headed towards the Jumeirah Beach Road. It was
a rather broad question and I wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at.

‘Well, I want to be successful and wealthy, I
guess,’ I answered hesitantly.

‘Do you believe in the importance of family?’

‘Of course,’ I said confidently. ‘Family is
very important in keeping a man grounded.’

He smiled and put his foot down on the accelerator
a little more. ‘And what is your definition of success?’

‘Well, to be good at what you do, I guess.’

‘Why? What is the point?’

‘Erm, I’m not sure what you mean.’

‘What do you want, man?’ he asked again,
aggressively, and went a little faster.

‘A nice house, I guess, and...’

‘And what? Tell me!’ The speedometer had hit a
hundred kilometres an hour and I was starting to get nervous.

‘A nice car and a good lifestyle?’ I shouted, holding
on to my seat.

‘What car do you want? Be specific!’ We hit one
twenty.

‘A Porsche 911 Turbo like this one! It’s the
car I always wanted. Can we slow down please, Tariq?’

Tariq ignored my plea. ‘Say it like you mean
it!’ he shouted as we reached a hundred and forty.

‘I want a Porsche 911 Turbo!’

‘Louder!’ screamed Tariq at one sixty-five.

‘I want a Porsche 911 Turbo!’

Two hundred. ‘Say it with conviction, man!’

‘I want a Porsche 911 Turboooooooo!’

‘Yes!’ said Jamal, finally bringing an end to
the scary ordeal. I was almost in tears. We turned around at the next junction
and headed back to the Palm. I was shaking for the rest of the journey. I had
seen a crazy side of the otherwise calm and collected Tariq, and it totally
confused me. But as we parked up at the villa, he acted as if nothing had
happened. 

‘The offer stands,’ he whispered before we went
back into the house. ‘Please let me know by tomorrow afternoon.’ I nodded as I
tried to recapture my breath.

That night I went home and chewed over the
day’s insane events. I was still confused about whether I was any closer to
making a decision. All I had really learnt was that Tariq was a potential
psychopath under the façade of a calm and collected family man. Or had I missed
the point completely? Perhaps he had actually done all the talking he wanted to
without actually saying a word. He had dangled all of the elements of the good
life in front of me and shown me that it was only touching distance away: the
house, the loving family and the dream car. I merely needed to reach out and
grab it. He had persuaded me that a life in real estate had handed him these
luxuries, and he was now indirectly showing me that I, too, could have the
trappings of great success if I simply joined him and his empire. Maybe it was
the most convincing sales pitch in history.

And so there was only one thing left to do. The
following day, I bit my tongue and made the call.

‘Good afternoon, Milestone Properties,’
answered the receptionist.