Walking into the broker's office made me realize just how screwed up this business had become. The office is one tiny room, maybe 12 x 12. The place is a mess, unbelievably filthy and it smells of body odor. There's no place to sit down and even if I could find a spot, I'm afraid to think what I might catch. The first things I notice are the loan officer's licenses. Every square inch of his office walls is covered top to bottom, side to side, with licenses. I'm guessing there must be 250 licenses either stapled or taped to the walls. The biggest problem was the broker's recordkeeping or lack thereof. His loan files were stacked in piles around the room and he didn't know where anything was. As we're talking, he's knocking files to the ground trying to locate deals for us to review. The place was utter chaos. I saw copies of borrowers' tax returns lying on the floor. When I asked him which file they belonged to, he didn't know.

I connected with one of the largest mortgage brokers in Cleveland, Ohio ... Stepping off the plane in Cleveland, I'm greeted by Jeff, who introduces himself as the VP of Sales ... I find out this is his first job in the mortgage business. He tells me, "This is actually my first job in sales. Before that I worked in my uncle's service station."

We get to the office and join everyone for lunch at the restaurant next door. Being 6ft 4ins (1.9 meters) and 230 pounds (105 kg), I'm rarely intimidated by someone else's size, but this is one of those moments. As Luther stands up to greet me, he's my height but at least 40 to 50 pounds (18-23 kg) heavier. With his big bushy beard and flannel shirt, I can't help but think he looks like Grizzly Adams on steroids. I take the seat across from their title rep, Suzanne. After a few minutes of conversation, I can't help but notice her wedding ring since it's the largest single diamond I've ever seen. Being a curious guy, I ask her, "So, Suzanne what does your husband do for a living?" As though it were staged, all five people within earshot of our conversation burst into laughter. Suzanne says, "Really sweetheart, it's healthier for you to not ask that question." ... When it becomes clear she isn't kidding, my head starts to fill with images of cement-filled shoes and me sinking to the bottom of the Cuyahoga. Maybe changing the subject is a good idea.

After we leave the restaurant and go back into his building, Luther leads me toward his office in the back of the suite. As we approach the last office, I'm struck by the enormous size of his door. This massive steel contraption looks like it belongs on the front of a vault, not in an office. Luther sees me eyeing it and says, "Oh, you like the door? I got it out of an old bank that closed down. The great thing about this is, short of a rocket launcher, nobody's getting in." Why does a mortgage broker need a door that could protect Fort Knox? Sure, we're in the money business, but it's not like we print the stuff or keep any lying around. Looking around inside the office, I don't see anything of value outside at bizarre collection of knives hanging on the wall ... Watching the office in operation, it seems to me the ads they run must be paying off. Calls are steadily coming in, which means the loan officers keep busy. They bring me deals to qualify, but I'm surprised how little they know about the business. Then again, considering the head of sales is 20 years old and is still learning how to spell mortgage, why should I be surprised?

That evening at dinner, Luther decides to drop another bombshell. "You seem like a good guy and you'll eventually find this out, so it's best you hear it from me," he says. "About eight years ago, a former business partner set me up and I did a few years in the federal pen." He talks about how he almost killed the meanest guy in the joint, came to terms with his own mortality, and now lives every day to the fullest. After dinner we go back to his office to retrieve a file and no sooner do we arrive than his cell phone rings.

"Oh, good evening, ma'am. I'm so sorry to call this late. Oh yes, it's Luther. Is His Honor still awake?" When the judge picks up the phone Luther starts talking. "Good evening, Your Honor. Yes, sorry to disturb you." He spends the next minute telling the judge how some friends of his had a misunderstanding. The husband found himself in jail after a typical domestic dispute. The wife called the police and now realizes it was all a big mistake. There is a long silence as Luther listens intently to the judge. He finishes by saying, "Thank you for your help, sir. You have a good evening as well." Luther turns off his phone and says to me, "Well it's a good thing he was still up or that schmuck would've spent the whole night in the can. He'll be out in the next hour or two."

"An article published in the News-Herald in Ohio related that he had been serving 17 months in prison for theft when he was caught on tape trying to hire a hit man to kill the judge who sentenced him. I still wonder if that was the same judge he talked to on the phone that night. He accepted a deal in this case, according to the News-Herald, pleading guilty to four counts of intimidation and one count of retaliation. He also pleaded guilty to charges in an unrelated real estate fraud case where he was accused of racketeering. Through the plea agreements, he was able to get the DA to drop over 200 additional charges against him ranging from conspiracy to attempted felonious assault on a police officer.

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