The King of Good Times
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Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to Scamfluencers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or Apple Podcasts. A heads up, this episode contains a reference to suicide. Please listen with care. Sarah? Sachi? Okay. Okay.

Do you ever feel any ethnic or nationalistic pride when you hear a scammer story? Like, are you especially fond of Muslim scammers, for example? You know, I believe in progress and I think it comes in many forms. And I believe in women's rights and women's wrongs. Let's just say that. Yeah.

You know, I thought you were going to say some nonsense about how you love all scammers equally, and I was going to get mad. No, but again, I respect breaking barriers, whatever they may be. Okay, well, Sarah, in that case, I'm very proud to share with you a slice of Indian culture today on Scamfluencers. Don't forget, brown boys can be billionaire scammers too. It's July 2016, and more than 100,000 people are packed into the stands waiting for the British Grand Prix to start.

It's being held at the Silverstone Circuit, a Formula One race track about two hours outside of London. You can hear the roar of engines as race cars tear around the track at blinding speeds, practicing before the race.

There's a steady stream of people in the paddock, and that's the area where the racing teams work on the cars. It's packed with drivers, pit crews, and team owners. One of them is Vijay Mallya, a billionaire tycoon and the owner of a team from his native India. He's also kind of a party animal, which has earned him the nickname the King of Good Times.

He's in his early 60s, and he looks like if Guy Fieri was brown and he hung out at biker bars. His long, graying hair is slicked back. He has diamond stud earrings and a watch that's two times the size of a normal one and probably five times as expensive. Sarah, here is a photo of him. Please tell me, what do you think about this vibe? Okay, you really described him perfectly, right? I mean, yeah, he's brown Guy Fieri. Yeah.

His vibe is intense. Yeah. Well, Vijay can often be found in the paddock, living up to his nickname by throwing impromptu parties and hosting poker games. Today, he's sitting down with the other team owners for a press conference. This is pretty standard. The team owners answer questions about their drivers, their cars, the track conditions, you know, racing stuff.

Except today, the press is peppering Vijay with questions about his finances. Because just a few months earlier, he left India after allegedly owing more than a billion dollars to the banks and refusing to pay hundreds of employees at his defunct airline. A government agency in India even accused him of money laundering. And now there's a warrant out for his arrest. Vijay has repeatedly denied any wrongdoing.

Through his company, he claims the arrest warrant must have been made in error and that the money he's been accused of laundering is all accounted for. Still, there's been a huge public backlash against him, especially since it looks like he's fleeing arrest by hiding out in London. Spectators were curious whether he'd even show up to this F1 race. But Vijay worked so hard to own an F1 team. This is his status symbol, proof that he's one of the billionaire big boys. He's not going to let anyone take this away from him.

So he shows up to the press conference, dodges questions, and rambles about his passion for the team. And when the press conference makes international news, people in India are pissed. I mean, yeah, I could see a nation turning on him for that reason. Like, he's just enjoying his life with all this...

from the bank that most people could never dream of being approved of, let alone wasting. Yeah. Vijay's been playing fast and loose with banking regulations for a little too long now. And when the people of India turn on Vijay and demand that he answer for his schemes, he runs away and calls the whole thing a political witch hunt. The king of good times might be feeling confident at the track, but his time in the fast lane is quickly coming to an end.

From Wondery, I'm Sachi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee. And this is Scamfluencers. Attention, I've

For a while, Vijay Mallya's billion-dollar wins were celebrated in India. He was a successful businessman who wanted to bring India into the future, mostly by selling them alcohol and sponsoring sports teams. But what Indians didn't know was that his victories came at their own expense. In the end, Vijay was only looking out for himself. This is a story about how a billionaire went from hometown hero to global pariah. And I'm calling it Vijay Mallya, the King of Good Times. Legend.

It's February 1982, and we're at the Indian Grand Prix in the southern tip of the country. This is not like the races we know today. This one is being held on an old airstrip, with tens of thousands of fans packed into makeshift bamboo bleachers. It's a competition for India's hottest amateur racing stars, including Vijay. He's 27, known for being a playboy partier, and he has a thick mustache and some luscious hair that I think even I'm jealous of.

Vijay grips the steering wheel of his imported race car, feeling every bump in the concrete. He brakes into the turn and hits the gas as he accelerates out of it. He's driving over 180 miles per hour for around 50 laps. And this is in a car that doesn't have the same safety requirements as a modern race car. At that speed, any misstep could mean death.

Vijay's good. He crosses the finish line and the checkered flag waves. He's won. He's the Indian national champion, making him one of the biggest figures in India's fledgling motorsports scene. It's not as elite or as fancy as F1, but Vijay wants to help it get there. Sarah, here's a photo of him after the race. What do you think?

Yeah, I mean, he looks like a regular guy. It's like an old black and white photo and he's accepting this giant trophy. And looking at it, you're kind of like a friend could have shown me this and be like, oh, yeah, that was my uncle. Yeah, I believe it. This looks like anybody I'm related to. Yeah, this is like, oh, yeah, cool. This guy looks like he could be my uncle, your uncle. Yeah. Well, the thing about Vijay is he's actually the heir to a multimillion dollar empire.

His dad, Vittal Malia, is a business tycoon with his hands in nearly every major industry, from pharmaceuticals to consumer goods.

Bittles also a bit of a hermit. He's sometimes referred to as the Indian Howard Hughes. He doesn't approve of Vijay's wild partying ways, and he definitely doesn't approve of his racing career. Vijay dabbles in the family business, but he's much more interested in living the fast life. All that changes a little more than a year after the Indian Grand Prix, when Vijay's father dies of a heart attack at just 59 years old.

Bithell left everything to Vijay, his only son, which means it's time for Vijay to give up his carefree lifestyle and run the family business. On the same day that his dad dies, Vijay reports to a meeting with the board of his father's holding company. He's immediately elected chairman. And at just 27 years old, he's suddenly expected to step into his father's shoes.

Vijay's biggest problem is going to be overcoming his Playboy reputation and proving that he is a serious businessman. So he has to put his racing dreams aside for now. But even as the new head of a corporate empire, Vijay still wants to have fun. So for the next decade or so, he focuses his efforts on one particular branch of the business, Kingfisher Beer. ♪

and he's really successful with it. Under his leadership, Kingfisher beer becomes a staple in India. Thanks to a wildly successful ad campaign with famous cricket players, it becomes known as the beer of good times. By the late 90s, one out of every four beers sold in the country is a Kingfisher. Okay, I mean, yes, he's had a huge leg up to get here, but that is quite the accomplishment, right? Yeah, he did it.

And then around that time, the government of India bans alcohol advertisements. But Vijay finds a way out.

He turns to a strategy known as surrogate advertising. It's when you advertise one thing, but really you're advertising something else. So, for example, he'd run an ad for Kingfisher Soda, and that would end up boosting beer sales because it was the same brand name with a similar label. That's pretty genius, actually. I'm quite impressed by him. Yeah, I'm sorry to say it slaps as a strategy. Yeah.

He also decides to turn Kingfisher into an aspirational lifestyle brand with himself as its poster boy. After a while,

After all, he drives fast cars, he hangs out with Bollywood actresses, and he takes exotic vacations. Who better than him to promote the good times lifestyle? The Kingfisher logo is all over Indian music and sporting events, on yachts, and in the world of fashion. And Vijay's there. At every gala and after party, he is an OG influencer. Vijay feels like he can run his dad's company and still have everything he ever dreamed of, including a future in racing.

But he's just going to take a few detours on the way.

Okay, let's flash forward a few years to 2004. An airline executive named Alex Wilcox is on a flight to California from his home in Dallas. Alex is in his 30s with dark hair, light brown eyes, and a folksy charm. He's been obsessed with airplanes since he was a kid, and he actually turned it into a career. He's the founding director of JetBlue and the company's first ever employee. He's flying to meet with someone who, just this morning, he'd never heard of.

Vijay Mallya. Vijay reached out to Alex and asked him to meet. Alex did his research and learns that Vijay is basically the Richard Branson of India. He's taken his father's business and increased its revenue more than tenfold in just two decades.

Oh, and he's wildly popular. He's so influential in India that just two years earlier, he was elected to parliament. Alex is surprised that he's never heard of Vijay before. And he's intrigued about why this big-time billionaire wants to meet with him. So just hours after they speak on the phone, he's on a flight to see him.

And when they meet, Vijay shows Alex a video all about his brand new Kingfisher venture, an airline. Here's a clip of it from a Netflix documentary called Bad Boy Billionaires India. Kingfisher doesn't hire flight attendants like other airlines. We choose only models.

So if you didn't catch that, the women in the promo video are saying that Kingfisher only hires models as flight attendants. You know, in case of an emergency on a flight, I'd be so happy to know it was like models who are in charge of keeping me safe, you know? Yeah, I only feel safe when hot people are around. But here's when Vijay gives Alex the pitch. ♪

He says that there's a market for a low-cost domestic airline for India's growing middle class. The only thing he needs to make it, he says, is an expert, someone like Alex. This all sounds way too good to be true. So Alex is skeptical, and he wonders if he's being put on. But maybe he's taken in by the glamour of a guy like Vijay, who owns three yachts, has houses all over the world, a collection of more than 200 vintage cars, and uses a Boeing 727 as his private jet.

So he agrees to come on board as president and COO. And they move fast. Just a year later, in May 2005, he and Vijay host a launch party in Mumbai. Indian government officials, corporate executives, and Bollywood stars mill around this massive airplane hangar. There are lasers and smoke machines. A curtain is draped over part of the room. And when it drops, it reveals the first Kingfisher airplane.

The logo, the same as for Kingfisher beer, is painted across the side. It's surrogate advertising on a massive scale. They've even updated the Kingfisher beer tagline for this new venture: "Fly the good times." Flight attendants dressed in red skirts and jackets line up in front of the plane. And Alex? He's inside the plane. As the crowd applauds, he opens up the door and waves.

Vijay stands on a platform that rises up to the door, and then he cuts the ceremonial ribbon across the doorway. You know what? This sounds very excessive, but this was kind of ahead of its time because I could see something like this happening this year and it seeming once again normal. You know what I mean? Like it is a big thing for an airline, but also seems kind of fun. I mean, also India's growing middle class does kind of need a low cost airline. Yeah. Yeah.

Well, it's a huge moment, but Alex is starting to worry that his new boss is getting swept up in the glamour of it all. He had agreed to run a low cost airline. No first class, no meals, no frills of any kind.

But now, at the party, Vijay gives a speech saying that even short economy flights will serve hot meals. After the airline is officially launched, Vijay starts talking about more upgrades he wants to add. He tells Alex he wants to offer curbside valet for luggage and add a first-class option. Alex is concerned. He knows all these changes will make it impossible to remain a low-cost airline. But Vijay isn't fazed. He shrugs and says they can just get more money from the banks to cover all the new features.

Alex realizes that the vision he was sold is no longer the reality. So just two months after Kingfisher's first flight takes off, he quits. Alex sees Vijay's genius, but he also sees his fatal flaw. Vijay wants too much, too fast. And when you tie up your brand in your own luxurious lifestyle, you have no choice but to keep stepping up your own game, no matter the cost.

About two years later, in June 2007, Vijay travels to the Paris Air Show. It's held at a convention center about half an hour outside of the city. There's a fleet of planes on display and thousands of visitors checking out the latest designs. But really, the show is for airline insiders with fat wallets who are looking to actually buy the planes. Cue Vijay.

Kingfisher Airlines still isn't profitable, but Vijay thinks the best way to solve that problem is to start offering international flights. So he's looking to buy some planes to make that happen. But he doesn't just buy a couple of planes at this air show. He orders 50 Airbuses and that will more than double their current fleet and comes with a price tag of, Sarah, are you ready for it? $7 billion.

That is absolutely crazy. I mean, airlines come and go all the time. They're reliably unreliable businesses. Yeah. Well, while Kingfisher Airlines might be in the red, Vijay runs a massive conglomerate. And around this time, it's estimated to be worth more than $5 billion. Wow.

Plus, he recently acquired Scotch whiskey maker White & McKay for more than a billion dollars, an Indian Premier League cricket team for $122 million, and U.S. specialty vodka startup Liquidity for $3 million. So he's pretty confident in his own business acumen. His personal fortune at the moment is around $1.5 billion. He owns homes in New York, San Francisco, South Africa, and the French Riviera.

He has a sprawling estate on India's west coast that has multiple pools, a smattering of bars, and a dance floor in the middle that doubles as a helipad. He's at the height of his global wealth and success, with no plans to slow down. At the same time, Vijay's never limited himself to one enterprise. While he's doubling down on his airline, he still can't shake the dream that he's had since he was a young man, to be a part of the Uber-exclusive world of Formula One.

In the summer of 2008, about a year after the Paris air show, Vijay's in Monaco. The country is known for its Mediterranean views, lenient tax laws, and its annual Grand Prix. The Grand Prix is an F1 race, but it's also a giant party for the world's wealthiest people. So obviously, Vijay's there.

He's actually throwing a party in the harbor on a superyacht, the Indian Empress. It's longer than a football field, sleeps 32, and was previously owned by a Qatari royal family member. Vijay is celebrating a dream come true. He's now the proud co-owner of an F1 racing team. He and a Dutch businessman went in together to buy Spiker Formula One, a struggling team owned by a Dutch motor company, for about $125 million.

They're calling it Force India. It's the first Indian F1 team ever. There are only 10 F1 teams, and most are owned by auto manufacturers like Mercedes or Ferrari, which makes Vijay part of one of the most exclusive clubs in the world.

He cannot stop. He can't. Honestly, he really can't stop, and I'm getting increasingly stressed. Well, Vijay quickly establishes Force India's paddock as the biggest party spot at the race. Oh, and he's brought the Kingfisher flight attendant energy to his grid girls, who are models paid to hang out near the paddock wearing heels and Kingfisher airline hats. Always be surrogate advertising. But it isn't just fun and games.

Vijay wants the team to represent his home country. He's painted its cars with the colors of the Indian flag. And though Force India hires two experienced drivers for his first season, one Italian and one German, Vijay suggests that the team might have an Indian driver in the near future. And he hopes that one day, Force India will mean as much to Indians as Ferrari means to Italians.

Vijay's willing to spend to make that happen. After he takes over, costs for the team go up nearly 75% from the previous owner. It's expensive as hell. But to Vijay, it's worth it. He's really made it. He's managed to come back to his racing passion, all while still running the family empire and leading it into the future. He's making good on his father's wishes without compromising his own style.

He alternates between driving a Mercedes, a Ferrari, and a Bentley. He drapes himself in diamonds and buys expensive art like a Picasso sketch. Oh, and he's about to buy a collection of Gandhi's possessions, including his glasses, his sandals, a pocket watch, and the bowls he ate his last meal from. I mean, listen, if he really wants to start conversations at a Halloween party, I do think that's the way to go.

Yeah, I'm not just going as Gandhi. These are actual glasses, actual sandals, actual pocket watch. And yes, this bowl is what he ate his last meal out of. Yeah, he's slurping up a Kingfisher out of Gandhi's bowls. Great.

Well, all this extravagant spending, it's happening while Kingfisher Airlines still has not made a profit. In fact, the global recession in the fall of 2008 has made Kingfisher's already shaky financial situation even worse. By the end of the year, Kingfisher has lost more than $200 million. Vijay still believes the company can turn it around.

But he's running out of time and trust. He needs to use his marketing genius to convince banks and his employees to believe in him too. Or else Vijay's airline dream will come crashing down and take his entire empire with it.

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Just use the code SCAMPOD. That's happymammoth.com, M-A-M-M-O-T-H, with the code SCAMPOD to get 15% off your entire first order. In October 2009, more than a year since Vijay splashed out for his own F1 team, he realizes he can't keep up all this spending without a little cash flow. So he goes to one of India's public banks and asks for a $200 million loan.

That's roughly equal to the amount of money Kingfisher lost the previous year. Vijay gives the bank a presentation about his company's projected revenue and profits. And here's the kicker. He cites the brand value of the airline as proof of its worth. That's usually a no-no in loan agreements because it's tricky to put a number value on something like a brand.

Some inside the bank flag the loan, but their concerns are ultimately ignored. The bank takes his numbers at face value and gives him the loan. It's a little fishy, but Vijay is a big-time businessman.

I feel like this is classic bank. Like, you know what? Let's give this man a loan. Classic bank nonsense. But just a year after getting that loan, Vijay goes back, this time to India's biggest state-run bank, and negotiates a deal to restructure his debts. At this point, Kingfisher is reportedly $1.5 billion in debt. It's just snowballed out of control. But the bank seems to have no problem helping Vijay out.

They go out of their way to give Vijay and Kingfisher very generous terms in the restructure. Critics later suggest that they're suspiciously generous, but the bank's justification is that Vijay himself personally guarantees the loan. So it's fine. After all, he's a billionaire.

You know, I do think there is this idea that when you are like an extremely rich or well-known business person, that there's like a certain level of debt that's normal that is very scary to most people. And to me, this sounds like one of those things where it's like, he'll make it back. He's rich. He's always going to be rich. Yeah, it's lazy. And also, most likely, the bankers just want to be in Vijay's good graces, right? Yeah.

He's one of India's most influential people. He's a member of parliament. And honestly, you never know when it might be nice to have a billionaire who owes you a favor. But getting favors from some of India's biggest banks is only adding to Kingfisher's growing debt. And one guest on Kingfisher Airlines is about to expose how dire things at the company truly are.

Around this time, a financial analyst named Neeraj Monga takes a Kingfisher flight from Toronto to India. He's in his late 30s and works as a financial analyst for a research firm called Veritas. He's soft-spoken but put together. I like to think of him as the type of guy who travels while wearing his suit and his tie no matter what.

He's impressed by Kingfisher's customer service and by the whole airline experience. But he does notice something odd. There are a lot of empty seats on the flight. His airfare was pretty cheap, and Neeraj can't make sense of how the airline is managing to make any money. So he decides to look into it. Neeraj looks up Kingfisher's financial statements, which have been available to the public this whole time. And once he starts reading, Neeraj is shocked.

Kingfisher's own auditors had raised flags about how the company was calculating its projections, but they were ignored. In an interview for the Netflix documentary about Vijay, he describes his findings. The business was not generating as much cash it needed to survive on a day-to-day basis. There seemed to be no hope for the airline to come out of it.

You know, it is so crazy that this guy is just a financial analyst who was like, hey, I'm very curious about this experience I just had. Did a little searching and found public information that was incredibly damning. That's all it took? Well, Neeraj also knows that if anyone at the bank had actually read Kingfisher's public filings, they would have never offered a loan or given a restructured deal.

So Neeraj digs a little deeper and he ends up publishing his takeaways in a report for his company Veritas. And my dude, it is a bombshell. In it, he says that Kingfisher Airlines and its parent company are insolvent and on the brink of bankruptcy. He advises investors to sell their shares.

Oh my God. He went rogue. He was like, you know what? Let's do an actual official report about this because the people need to know. His mother must be so proud of him, honestly. But the executives at Kingfisher, including Vijay, freak out. They immediately go on the defensive. One of them denounces the Veritas report, calling it mischievous and sensational.

They tell the press that the report, quote, shows a complete disregard for both facts and a lack of basic accounting knowledge, grossly miscalculating the airline's net worth and value per share. But about two months after the Veritas report, Kingfisher Airlines abruptly cancels hundreds of flights, pissing off customers and getting lots of bad press. The company's checks start to bounce.

And Kingfisher cancels an order for two more Airbuses. Then, days later, Kingfisher posts its second quarter financial results. And they are bad. Like, net losses rose almost 80% bad.

Kingfisher starts desperately searching for another cash infusion to stay operational. Vijay even floats the idea of a government bailout, which provokes an immediate outcry. Lots of people, including at least one of Kingfisher's major bankers, say that Vijay should use his own money or money from his other companies to save the airline. But in a press conference, Vijay shuts the idea down. He says he doesn't want to cross-subsidize the airline with other businesses.

Vijay's dream of dominating India's airline industry is coming in for a crash landing. And his stubbornness about not using his own money to bail out Kingfisher Airlines is causing headaches for more than just bankers. He's about to lose the goodwill of the Indian people.

By October 2012, the situation at Kingfisher has become downright catastrophic. Its financial situation is so bad, no bank will offer Kingfisher any loans. The airline is so deep in the hole that it's even stopped paying thousands of employees.

Pilots, engineers, salespeople, and flight crews have all been going without paychecks for months. They initially gave Vijay the benefit of the doubt, taking him at his word that paychecks would be coming soon. But when they hear about him partying it up at F1 races and cricket matches, it's too much for them to stomach. They've had enough. So the engineers and pilots organize and decide to go on strike.

Without pilots or engineers to certify safety protocols have been followed, all Kingfisher flights are grounded.

This is truly insane. It's like he has so much power and no one can stop him. But it really had to get to that point, which is so nuts to me. Well, before any resolution can be found, tragedy hits. A woman married to one of Kingfisher's engineers takes her own life. In a letter she left behind, she said that she couldn't handle the fact that her husband hadn't been paid for six months. Right.

Kingfisher employees are devastated. They want Vijay to end the strike by paying the workers from his own fortune, or at the very least acknowledge their suffering. But Vijay is silent. He doesn't even make a public statement about the tragedy. And then Kingfisher employees learn that not everyone is being asked to go months without paychecks, just the workers in India.

So understandably, they are furious. And after weeks without flying a single plane, the airline loses its license. About a week after that, Kingfisher employees agree to end the strike after management promises to pay them back for months of overdue salaries. But the government wants Kingfisher to prove it has enough money to restart operations before it will renew its license. And it can't do that.

The media coverage of Kingfisher Airlines workers getting screwed over starts to tank Vijay's reputation. And at the same time, Vijay is dropped from Forbes' billionaires list. He responds by tweeting, Thanks to the almighty that Forbes has removed me from the so-called billionaires list. Less jealousy, less frenzy and wrongful attacks.

Oh my God, he is so petty. Somebody put him on a Real Housewives episode immediately. Take me off that list because you guys are all jealous of me. I'd rather people not know I was a billionaire. That's why we're not on it. That's why no one knows how rich we are. And we're so rich. Don't say it too loud.

Well, Vijay knows he has to do something to turn his image around, which might actually mean resolving his debts. So a month after he's dropped from the Forbes list, he sells a majority stake of his liquor business for about $2 billion. His Kingfisher employees are hopeful that they might get paid soon. But then Vijay turns around and tells the Economic Times that he's not putting any of the money toward Kingfisher's debts. Instead, he's selling his liquor business for $2 billion.

Instead, he puts it all in an offshore account and uses it for other businesses, allegedly even personal expenses.

While Kingfisher Airlines limps along, basically a zombie corporation, Vijay continues flying around the world, yachting and partying with the 1%. He focuses on his F1 team, which has been struggling in competitions. It recently finished 7th out of 10 teams. And that is not good enough for Vijay. So he pours more money into the team to try to make them even more competitive.

Vijay considers himself a business visionary, and in some cases, he is. But the failure of Kingfisher Airlines creates a disconnect with his Playboy image. And soon, the Indian government will step in to put the good times to an end.

In December 2015, two years after Kingfisher's flights were grounded, an Indian economist is reading reports about Vijay's lavish 60th birthday party. His name is Raghuram Rajan, and he's not just any economist. He's the governor of the Reserve Bank of India. He's in his early 50s with dark brown eyes and his hair is starting to gray. He's giving professorials.

Back when he was an economics professor at the University of Chicago, Raghuram actually called the 2008 financial crash three years before it happened. So he's got a lot of respect all over the world. And now he's laser focused on wealthy businessmen who are taking advantage of the banking system and on Vijay in particular.

Today, he's reading media reports about Vijay throwing himself a massive festival for his birthday. It's reported to be a two-day affair at Vijay's beachfront villa on the western coast of India. More than 500 people attended. Enrique Iglesias performed. And at midnight, a five-minute fireworks show exploded over the beach. Locals reported that it was so loud they could hear it from at least 10 miles away. And this is all happening while Kingfisher employees still haven't been paid.

It was crazy enough when I just thought he was having a wild birthday party while he's doing all of this crazy shit. But now knowing that these people have not been paid, I truly think if I was one of these people, I would be overthrowing his birthday party. I would be like, I'm not leaving until you pay me. Well, naturally, the whole thing makes Raghuram's blood boil.

It probably feels like Vijay's just rubbing salt into the wound of everyone he's taken advantage of. But Raghuram knows something Vijay doesn't. The government is already looking into the financial irregularities surrounding Kingfisher. A whole team of forensic accountants have been digging into Vijay's finances. And their research indicates that he took money that should have gone to Kingfisher Airlines and instead funneled it into his other ventures, like his F1 team.

Which, by the way, just moved up the rankings. Force India finished fifth in the championship standings for the 2015 season, likely the result of Vijay pumping money into the team. Vijay also bought property in France and England during that time, with money that should have gone to paying his debts.

Raghuram thinks that the government has enough evidence to charge Vijay with fraud and money laundering. And the banks agree. They determine that Vijay defaulted on more than a billion dollars of debt. So the banks ask that the court seek Vijay's arrest and seize his passport. A money laundering investigation is officially registered. But someone must have gotten word to Vijay because before the authorities can speak to him for the investigation, he flees India for the United Kingdom.

A few weeks later, a warrant is officially issued for his arrest. Vijay's gone from one of India's most hated to one of India's most wanted. But this legendary party animal is not about to let an arrest warrant slow him down.

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Go to quince.com slash scampod for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's q-u-i-n-c-e dot com slash scampod for free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash scampod. In 2016, Vijay is a wanted man in India, but he's hiding in the UK where he maintains a residency permit.

Just two months after leaving the country and one month after being declared a wanted man, he ends up resigning from his position in India's parliament before he can be ousted. He says that he wants to avoid his name being further dragged in the mud. And then to get his side of the story out there, he sits down with London's Financial Times for an in-depth interview a little more than a month after fleeing to England.

He pleads his case and he makes himself into the victim, saying his Playboy image has led to the public backlash. Can you read this one quote? Yeah, he says, "'Lifestyle, women, fancy cars, aeroplanes, it's all aspirational. All this was brought into play in creating a brand identity and brand personality of Kingfisher. Maybe I should have never gone down this route at all in hindsight. I'm sometimes a victim of my own image, but I can't do very much about it, can I?'

I disagree here. I think there's a lot he could do, and that includes just not doing things. Well, Vijay certainly doesn't seem willing to change. And this is when he goes to the British Grand Prix with his team, Force India, and even has the nerve to show his face at a press conference. Vijay feels like he's done nothing wrong, and he feels zero remorse for any of his actions. He says, quote, "'The media made me into the king of good times, and now I'm the king of bad times.'"

Sometimes there are moments in these stories where like there's a quote that really makes you take a step back and realize you're dealing with a very simple minded person. Like a baby. Yeah. Like a little baby. Imagine being like the media made me into the king of good times. And now I'm the king of bad times. He should be a housewife. It was the best of good times and the worst of bad times. And I was the king of both.

Well, the cogs of justice continue to move oh so slowly in India. Though the government is likely to push for his extradition eventually, for now, it seems like Vijay keeps the good times rolling. He keeps funding his F1 team and helps them finish fourth in the 2016 and 2017 championships. But then, in the middle of the 2018 season, the justice system starts kicking into gear. Vijay's assets are frozen and his F1 team is put into administration due to a lack of funds.

This means the team either needs to find a new owner or it gets scrapped for parts. Vijay is desperate to keep Force India intact, not to mention all his other assets. So he appeals the court's decision. He's confident that the UK courts will see things his way. But what he doesn't realize is that sympathy for billionaires is running thin.

In August 2018, just weeks after Force India is put into administration, it's sold off to a consortium led by a Canadian billionaire. Now, Vijay is without his favorite toy. And four months later, in December 2018, he faces the music. Vijay shows up at court for his extradition hearing. Reporters wait outside, shouting questions at him in both Hindi and English. Vijay doesn't answer any of them. But he does let a BBC reporter shadow him in court.

As they pass through security, Vijay says this whole thing is a political witch hunt. The Indian government needs to show that they're clamping down on greedy businessmen and banking corruption. And Vijay is a convenient scapegoat. He swears he's done nothing wrong. All his loans are above board. But the British courts don't feel the same way. A judge decides that Vijay should be extradited back to India to stand trial. Even as Vijay hears this judgment, he remains calm.

He tells the BBC reporter that his expensive lawyers will figure out the next best steps. I mean, I don't doubt that they will figure out the next best steps, but also I believe he thinks he's going to get away with this. He probably does. Vijay's legal team appeals the decision, and he's allowed to stay in England for the time being. But a little more than a year later, he loses his appeal hearing too.

Two years after that, in 2022, an Indian court sentences him to four months in prison. But there's a catch. Vijay would have to be extradited in order to serve time in India. And he's taken advantage of a legal loophole. He applied for asylum in the UK, and he can't be extradited until his application is either approved or denied.

As of this recording, it's still being held up by the government. So even now, Vijay is still believed to be living in London. And it doesn't seem like he's paid off any of his debts either. Some say he still has friends in high places, this time in the UK, who are helping him out.

Vijay was once seen as an example of Indian excellence. He was seen as aspirational. As Vijay succeeded, so did India. But now it's clear to the Indian public that what Vijay could offer simply wasn't worth the price.

Oh, Sarah, this was a fun one. I love an Indian scammer. I'm sorry. I love it. We don't do it a lot despite being so plentiful in the world. Yeah, I feel like there's probably a lot of scams within cultures that just they don't really make it out of the zeitgeist. Yeah, you need too much context for it to work. And, you know, this was kind of the perfect one. You should be proud. Thanks.

Well, Sarah, what did you learn? Oh, my gosh. I mean, I learned that maybe I should have been born rich. That's what you picked up from this? Yeah, I'm like, damn. The fact that nothing really has happened to him yet at all is, you know, so wild to me. But also, I don't know why I expected anything else. This happens with rich people all the time. I don't understand why billionaires are so obsessed with sky and plane and space. Yeah.

Why are they always trying to go there? What do they think is up there? I think it's just like Earth isn't enough. You know what I mean? They think the world is theirs. Why not the skies? Why not space? Why not the moon or Mars? You know, nothing's ever enough. It's interesting that Vijay has had so many opportunities to dig himself out of debt and out of the financial hole he built himself. And instead of doing that, he just kept buying dumb things.

It's like, you know that tweet of that guy who's like, here's my budget. Can someone help me? And it's like housing, $600, food, $200, candles, $18,000. Please help. My family's starving. My family's starving. Well, don't buy an F1 team, my dude. What's the point? The thing is, he was quite successful with what he had. Like, I thought the scam was going to start like as soon as he inherited his family's company. But

The fact that he was doing quite well and became like really influential, people loved him. He was like a beloved billionaire that represented his country. And then he was like, you know what? This is too easy for me doing the thing I am good at. I'm just going to go harder and make my life a lot worse. It's like, I just wish I could put myself into the headspace of someone who like cannot stop that way. Yeah, this one's a depressing one. Yeah.

You know, framing him also within the fame he must have had in a country like India that has, you know, a billion people and being so famous and well-known and well-liked by a billion people to the point where you could be a member of parliament, which, I mean, doesn't mean you're well-liked, don't get me wrong, or that you got there fairly. But the fact that he was able to do that and still maintain, like, some kind of reputation of, you know, being this aspirational figure is so...

It's so crazy to squander that goodwill. And that's such a weird part of this to consider is that like, yeah, of course he had friends in government. He was working in government.

You know, it really makes you think about all these billionaires that like we don't really hear about because they're maybe not from, you know, North America or Europe or whatever. Or just, you know, all these billionaires who are kind of like him, but quieter and how they, you know, a huge part of their life is just buying friends, like having parties and inviting rich and famous people. And it really is a part of being a billionaire that no one focuses on, that they are inherently losers who are buying friends. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

I guess you and I aren't scammers because we're just so interesting that we've never had to buy a social interaction in our lives. No, when you think about like, hey, you know what? I did pretty well for being broke, you know? Yeah. Broke but charming.

This is Vijay Malia, the king of good times. I'm Sachi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee. If you have a tip for us on a story that you think we should cover, please email us at scamfluencersatwondery.com. This episode contains a reference to suicide. If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health, the U.S. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline can be reached at 1-800-273-8255.

We use many sources in our research. A few that were particularly helpful were The Fall of Vijay Mallya by Amy Kasman and Lionel Barber in The Financial Times, Vijay Mallya, Indian King of Good Times Dethroned by Debt by Megha Bari in The New York Times, and the Netflix documentary Bad Boy Billionaires India. Alex Burns wrote this episode. Additional writing by us, Saatchi Cole and Sarah Hack.

Sarah Enni is our story editor and producer, and Eric Thurm is our story editor. Fact-checking by Will Tavlin. Sound design by James Morgan. Additional audio assistance provided by Adrian Tapia. Our music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Freeze On Sync.

Our coordinating producer is Desi Blaylock and our managing producer is Matt Gant. Janine Cornelow and Stephanie Jens are our development producers. Our associate producers are Charlotte Miller and Lexi Peary. Our producers are John Reed, Yasmin Ward, and Kate Young. Our senior producers are Ginny Bloom and Jen Swan. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Marsha Louis, and Erin O'Flaherty. For Wondery. Wondery.

If you like Scamfluencers, you can listen to every episode early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.