Medical Resident Turned Hedge Fund Manager- Blows Out Wall Street

Oddly, as Mike Burry’s investors grew restive, his Wall Street counterparties took a new and envious interest in what he was up to. In late October 2005, a subprime trader at Goldman Sachs called to ask him why he was buying credit-default swaps on such very specific tranches of subprime-mortgage bonds. The trader let it slip that a number of hedge funds had been calling Goldman to ask “how to do the short housing trade that Scion is doing.” Among those asking about it were people Burry had solicited for Milton’s Opus—people who had initially expressed great interest. “These people by and large did not know anything about how to do the trade and expected Goldman to help them replicate it,” Burry wrote in an e-mail to his C.F.O. “My suspicion is Goldman helped them, though they deny it.” If nothing else, he now understood why he couldn’t raise money for Milton’s Opus. “If I describe it enough it sounds compelling, and people think they can do it for themselves,” he wrote to an e-mail confidant. “If I don’t describe it enough, it sounds scary and binary and I can’t raise the capital.” He had no talent for selling.

Now the subprime-mortgage-bond market appeared to be unraveling. Out of the blue, on November 4, Burry had an e-mail from the head subprime guy at Deutsche Bank, a fellow named Greg Lippmann. As it happened, Deutsche Bank had broken off relations with Mike Burry back in June, after Burry had been, in Deutsche Bank’s view, overly aggressive in his demands for collateral. Now this guy calls and says he’d like to buy back the original six credit-default swaps Scion had bought in May. As the $60 million represented a tiny slice of Burry’s portfolio, and as he didn’t want any more to do with Deutsche Bank than Deutsche Bank wanted to do with him, he sold them back, at a profit. Greg Lippmann wrote back hastily and ungrammatically, “Would you like to give us some other bonds that we can tell you what we will pay you.”

Greg Lippmann of Deutsche Bank wanted to buy his billion dollars in credit-default swaps! “Thank you for the look Greg,” Burry replied. “We’re good for now.” He signed off, thinking, How strange. I haven’t dealt with Deutsche Bank in five months. How does Greg Lippmann even know I own this giant pile of credit-default swaps?

Three days later he heard from Goldman Sachs. His saleswoman, Veronica Grinstein, called him on her cell phone instead of from the office phone. (Wall Street firms now recorded all calls made from their trading desks.) “I’d like a special favor,” she asked. She, too, wanted to buy some of his credit-default swaps. “Management is concerned,” she said. They thought the traders had sold all this insurance without having any place they could go to buy it back. Could Mike Burry sell them $25 million of the stuff, at really generous prices, on the subprime-mortgage bonds of his choosing? Just to placate Goldman management, you understand. Hanging up, he pinged Bank of America, on a hunch, to see if they would sell him more. They wouldn’t. They, too, were looking to buy. Next came Morgan Stanley—again out of the blue. He hadn’t done much business with Morgan Stanley, but evidently Morgan Stanley, too, wanted to buy whatever he had. He didn’t know exactly why all these banks were suddenly so keen to buy insurance on subprime-mortgage bonds, but there was one obvious reason: the loans suddenly were going bad at an alarming rate. Back in May, Mike Burry was betting on his theory of human behavior: the loans were structured to go bad. Now, in November, they were actually going bad.

The next morning, Burry opened The Wall Street Journal to find an article explaining how alarming numbers of adjustable-rate mortgage holders were falling behind on their payments, in their first nine months, at rates never before seen. Lower-middle-class America was tapped out. There was even a little chart to show readers who didn’t have time to read the article. He thought, The cat’s out of the bag. The world’s about to change. Lenders will raise their standards; rating agencies will take a closer look; and no dealers in their right mind will sell insurance on subprime-mortgage bonds at anything like the prices they’ve been selling it. “I’m thinking the lightbulb is going to pop on and some smart credit officer is going to say, ‘Get out of these trades,’” he said. Most Wall Street traders were about to lose a lot of money—with perhaps one exception. Mike Burry had just received another e-mail, from one of his own investors, that suggested that Deutsche Bank might have been influenced by his one-eyed view of the financial markets: “Greg Lippmann, the head [subprime-mortgage] trader at Deutsche Bank[,] was in here the other day,” it read. “He told us that he was short 1 billion dollars of this stuff and was going to make ‘oceans’ of money (or something to that effect.) His exuberance was a little scary.”