(4 of 4)
For all his supposed scruples, however, De Lorean was building a reputation for questionable business dealings. A scheme to promote miniature race cars failed, under a cloud, in the mid-1970s. An accomplice in several controversial ventures has been Roy Sigurd Nesseth, a former used-car dealer about De Lorean's age. Los Angeles Socialite Hazel Dean, sixtyish, has claimed in court that Nesseth, acting in concert with De Lorean, defrauded her of several million dollars in the 1970s after she hired Nesseth to manage her affairs. De Lorean and Nesseth in 1976 took over a failing Wichita, Kans., Cadillac dealership. After reneging on various agreements, they were sued by the former owner and a local bank. De Lorean leased his 3,000-acre Idaho ranch to Clark Higley, a local farmer, then mortgaged the ranch for $880,000 in 1976 and defaulted on the mortgage. Higley was evicted. Says Higley: "De Lorean is as smooth as silk. His henchman, Roy Nesseth, was on the scene giving us a real struggle. They're just crooks." Inventor Pete Avery of Phoenix says that De Lorean cheated him out of the lucrative rights to a widely used automobile coolant system. Yet Avery, after years of litigation with De Lorean, appreciates his charm. "He's a vicious man," says Avery, but adds: "I like the guy. That s.o.b. is the only guy I've ever known who has charisma. If he came into town today, I'd buy him dinner."
Charles De Lorean, 56, an Ohio Cadillac dealer who invested $100,000 in his older brother's company, believes that John was "set up" for the drug bust. "It's totally against his ethical and moral character," says Charles. But even more, it seems, the younger De Lorean thinks John is too canny to blunder so badly. "He's not dumb enough to put himself into a situation like that."
Other people who know De Lorean are amazed, and many of them saddened, at his fall. Thomas Murphy, who was GM vice chairman when De Lorean left the company, feels "very sorry for his family, in particular. I'm just glad that I wasn't faced with this kind of temptation." William Collins has known De Lorean since 1958, when they worked together at Pontiac, and until 1979 was vice president of DMC. "I think his fantastic ego just drove him to do almost anything," Collins says. Journalist Wright blames De Lorean's blinding ambition: "He wanted that company to work. He wanted that car to be successful. He wanted to show the people here in Detroit he could do it."
De Lorean's most telling flaw of all may have been blindness to his flaws. "I haven't failed at anything of importance," he once said. "I am not capable of addressing failure." Yet he may have known that something was wrong. Two years ago, in Ulster, when DMC's prospects were brightest, John De Lorean confessed to a certain gnawing discomfort with himself. "I am not a good example for other people," he said. "I am not a serene person, nor do I have peace of mind. I am not sure how I got the way I am now, but I am driven by a force, and that is not a good way to live." But, he added, "I am lucky." He was lucky. —By Kurt Andersen.
Reported by Barbara B. Dolan/Detroit and Joseph Pilcher/Los Angeles