Keith transferred over $6 million into our UBS account. That should’ve been a win. For six months, he traded it into the ground. Loss after loss. He’d go long, the market would drop. He’d short a stock, it would rip higher. I wasn’t managing his trades—just executing them as instructed. Compliance was aware. The losses were documented. But because the trades were unsolicited and the commissions were huge—$100,000 to $200,000 a month—no one said a word.
That should’ve been my signal to step away.
Instead, I stayed. And then it got worse.
The Decision That Changed Everything
About six months in, Keith raised another $6 million. My partner and I sat in our office and said what we both knew: “This isn’t good.”
By then, the first $6 million was gone. Burned through by bad trading. And now he was raising more by lying to investors. We knew it. He knew it. And still, the money landed at UBS. Still, we executed the trades. Still, we justified it.
The thinking was simple: We’re not the ones managing the money. We’re not the ones soliciting the investments. These are his clients. We’re just brokers, following instructions. That was the story we told ourselves to sleep at night.
It didn’t hold up.
The Truth About Proximity
I never met Keith’s investors. Never sat in on a meeting. Never pitched a single person. But it didn’t matter. Because I knew he was lying to them. And I kept executing the trades anyway.
There’s a line in federal investigations that too many white-collar defendants ignore: You don’t have to be the one lying to be guilty. You just have to keep the machine running after you know how it works.
That’s what I did. I helped the fraud succeed by staying involved once I knew where the money came from and how it was raised.
That’s why I went to prison.
The Piece Everyone Misses
A lot of defendants think, “Well, I didn’t talk to the investors,” or, “I wasn’t the one who signed the documents.” That’s the wrong question. The right one is: What did you know, and when did you choose to stay silent?
In my case, I knew he was raising money through lies. And I kept executing his trades.
The commissions blinded me. The rationalizations made it easier. And the firm didn’t stop it, so I told myself it must be okay.
If you’re reading this and you’re under investigation, ask yourself if you’ve ever made a similar decision. Something you justified. Something you told yourself wasn’t really your responsibility. Something you didn’t say out loud—but you knew.
You don’t have to be the mastermind to end up in prison. All you have to do is keep saying yes after you know what’s really going on.
The Consequence
Eventually, the investors came forward. They wanted answers. The government showed up. And I didn’t have a story that held up.
Not to the SEC. Not to my lawyers. Not to the judge.
I had a record of silence. And that silence made me complicit.
By the time I started cooperating, the damage was done. The narrative was already written. I could’ve walked away. I could’ve raised concerns. I could’ve documented what I knew. But I didn’t.
And when the sentencing came, all I had were regrets.
What I Should Have Done
If I had documented what I knew back then—if I had written down the red flags, refused to keep executing the trades, or alerted compliance with more than a shrug—I could have shown the judge something different: that I drew a line. That I said no. That I wasn’t willing to stay quiet just because the money was good.
That kind of decision matters.
Because when it’s time to sentence you, they’re not just looking at the crime. They’re looking at the moments you had a chance to stop it—and what you did with those moments.
The commissions were good. The trades were legal. But I knew the money came from lies. And I helped it move anyway.
What decision are you making right now that you’ll have to explain to a federal judge?
If you don’t know how to explain your role—or what to do with what you already know—join our free weekly webinar every Tuesday at 11AM Pacific / 2PM Eastern. Or schedule a personal call with our team. We’ll help you build the record that shows you learned, acted, and didn’t stay silent.
Justin Paperny
