How a handyman’s wife helped an Hermès heir discover he’d lost $15 billion
Nicolas Puech says his wealth manager isolated him from friends and family and siphoned away a massive fortune. Then came the clue that began to reveal the deception.
When French authorities interviewed Eric Freymond earlier this year, one of their first questions for the Swiss wealth manager was a simple one: Tell us about your relationship with Nicolas Puech, the Hermès heir who had given Freymond effective control over a fortune now estimated at more than $15 billion.
Freymond replied with a bombshell: The two men were lovers.
“I think that in a certain way he loved me. We were a couple," Freymond said, adding that they were “extremely discreet" about the relationship.
Freymond described the two men’s lives crisscrossing at houses and five-star hotels across Spain, Switzerland and London, where they lived in nearby apartments.
When asked by a magistrate what Puech had seen in him, Freymond responded that it was “probably my looks. My way of carrying myself. The fact that I had resevenspect for him."
But according to Puech, this was all a lie—one of many Freymond spun over the years to create an elaborate fiction around his client. Puech told French investigating magistrates that his money manager was not a lover but rather a trusted friend who became a Svengali-like figure and isolated him from friends and family so that he could siphon away a massive fortune.
By shielding Puech from anyone who might uncover his deceptions, Freymond maintained control over him, Puech said—and was able to keep up the illusion that Puech was still one of Europe’s richest people.
Puech, the 82-year-old fifth-generation heir to one of Europe’s most iconic and profitable businesses, testified that Freymond “turned out to be a con man, even a gangster."
When the magistrates asked about his current financial situation, Puech said he has requested to liquidate his holdings in an Hermès real-estate unit, valued at roughly $1.2 million.
“Otherwise, I have nothing left," said Puech.
Freymond, who was 67 years old and married with two daughters, was struck by a train and killed in July in his Alpine village near Gstaad, a death local police concluded was a suicide.
The testimony from Freymond and Puech was reviewed by the Journal; it has not been publicly released and much of it hasn’t been previously reported. The testimony, as well as other legal documents and the accounts of people who knew both of them, provide fresh details about the relationship at the center of what could be one of the frauds of the century—a $15 billion vanishing act involving the largest individual holding of shares of Hermès, the prestigious French luxury group considered the pinnacle of the fashion world and best known for its iconic silk scarves and Birkin handbags.
Puech sued Freymond before his death in both Switzerland and France, and what happened to Puech’s wealth is the subject of an ongoing criminal investigation by magistrates in Paris. Puech is cooperating with that investigation in an effort to claw back some of his fortune.
Freymond had faced other allegations of wrongdoing during his long career as a wealth manager. In 2010, he and his company at the time were fined four million euros for insider trading. A late French ballet dancer and actress sued him for breach of trust, an allegation he denied. Other former clients alleging wrongdoing include the original Bond girl, Swiss actress Ursula Andress. And the estate of a late businessman is seeking to claw back a loan of €20 million, or about $23 million, that Freymond arranged.
Mounting pressure
In the weeks leading up to his death in late July, legal and financial pressure on Freymond was mounting. The French investigation was gathering pace. On July 7, just two weeks before his death, Freymond was in Paris to answer questions from magistrates.
In his testimony, Freymond confirmed what many observers long believed to be true—that he sold off most of Puech’s Hermès holdings to the company’s rival, LVMH, more than a decade ago. His defense was that his client was aware of the sales, but Puech denies it, in part citing documents showing that Freymond repeatedly assured him in the following years that his fortune was intact.
That same day, a Geneva court ordered the freezing of Freymond’s bank accounts. Five days before his death, the order was extended to include the paintings, sculptures and furniture in his Geneva residence.
Puech’s lawyers say they have now traced how Freymond moved some of the proceeds from the Hermès stock sales into bad investments, often through entities linked to a small network of people around the Swiss financier. An architect close to Freymond even oversaw the renovation of a vineyard property in southwest France—a project Puech funded for family members—filling it with designer furniture which was later revealed to be fake.
Puech is now being helped financially by some members of the Hermès family and other people close to him. On a recent flight to London, the heavyset Puech squeezed into a middle seat on EasyJet, the famously low-budget European airline, according to people close to him.
The two men were products of European high society who were nonetheless very different.
Puech spent much of his time in a tiny hamlet in the Alps, or caring for his horses.
Freymond, by contrast, was consumed with fine art and luxury, and fond of complex investments and financial transactions. Said one person who visited Palazzo Al Bosco, his private estate near Florence, and saw his collection of art and designer furniture: “It was unimaginable."
Their relationship unraveled after an innocuous inquiry three years ago.
In the summer of 2022, while sitting with Freymond at Puech’s sprawling mountain chalet in Ferret, Switzerland, and discussing routine financial matters, the heir asked about the transfer of a million Swiss francs, equivalent to $1.25 million, to his longtime handyman Jadil Butrak and his wife, Maria Paz, who he considered almost an adopted family.
Puech said he found it odd that Butrak hadn’t thanked him.
When questioned later by French magistrates, Puech recalled Freymond’s explanation: “Since he is embarrassed about money, he did not want to mention it."
Paz, who was in the next room, overheard the exchange. After Freymond left, she approached Puech: Freymond was lying, she said. No money had ever arrived.
Not knowing where to turn, Puech confided in a friend, a former French ambassador, who advised him to conduct an audit.
Early deceptions
Freymond’s deceptions began early in his career.
In the 1980s, as he was marrying into one of Geneva’s most distinguished families, Freymond took up a position at Ferrier, Lullin & Cie, the private bank where his father-in-law, Guy van Berchem, was a partner. Van Berchem was one of the city’s most respected financiers, a patrician figure with deep roots in Geneva society.
In that rarefied setting, Freymond quickly made a name for himself. Colleagues remember him as ambitious and headed for stardom within the firm, but they also recall that troubling habits were already emerging.
According to those former colleagues, Freymond made extensive use of presigned client forms to handle withdrawals and reimbursements. The practice, permitted by the bank, was meant to spare clients the hassle of going to the teller’s desk for cash, but Freymond’s clients began to complain that the amounts they received didn’t match what had been debited.
When auditors came to search Freymond’s desk, the story took a farcical turn: Freymond had tried to dispose of the incriminating papers by stashing them outside his office window, on the cornice. But a gust of wind scattered the forms into the street, where bank security guards chased after them.
An audit put the missing sums at around 1.3 million Swiss francs, according to one of the people. The matter was never made public, and former colleagues of Freymond believe that his powerful father-in-law quietly arranged for clients to be reimbursed. The episode ended with Freymond’s abrupt departure from the bank.
Freymond’s in-laws aided his career in another way: They connected him to the Hermès dynasty.
Puech—pronounced “pwesh"—belongs to the fifth generation of the Hermès family, alongside his cousin Jean-Louis Dumas, who drove the company’s spectacular growth over three decades until his death in 2010. The company went public in 1993 but the family still holds the bulk of its shares.
Puech, among other endeavors, helped to launch a couture business that eventually declared bankruptcy and dabbled as a water-skiing instructor, but in recent decades he lived almost entirely off the dividends from his Hermès shares.
Freymond told prosecutors that he met Puech for the first time around 1989, adding that they grew “very close" beginning in 1997.
Puech said he trusted Freymond because his family was well-known and respected around Geneva. “I had a blind trust in his sense of integrity," he testified.
When visiting Geneva, Puech would sometimes stay with Freymond and his family.
“They would give me a room as if I were a cousin from the provinces," he said.
In 1999, Freymond advised Puech to transfer his Hermès holdings from France to Switzerland.
The shares were in bearer form, meaning they were paper certificates that belong to whoever physically holds them—like cash—so the owner’s name never appears in a register. The rest of the Hermès family, by contrast, held their shares in registered form, meaning ownership was recorded in their names and could be easily traced. It is not clear why Puech’s shares were bearer shares.
That same year, Puech signed a sweeping agreement authorizing Freymond not merely to manage but also to dispose of his assets, according to French investigators.
Puech testified that he gladly let Freymond handle all of his finances. “It was to simplify my life. He took care of paying everything that needed to be paid," he said.
Around the turn of the millennium, luxury titan Bernard Arnault entered the picture. After losing out on a bid for Gucci, the LVMH boss started building a stake in Hermès—with the discreet assistance of Freymond.
As his cousin Jean-Louis Dumas neared the end of his tenure, Puech became increasingly anxious about succession. At that time, Freymond said, Puech was “very active and eager" to develop a relationship between Hermès and LVMH.
And with his 6% stake, Puech was a crucial figure in the Hermès shareholding structure. According to an audit later compiled by FTI Consulting, that holding was worth some €528 million at the end of 2006.
Still, Puech insists he never authorized Freymond to dispose of his own stake in the family business.
“I had no intention of selling my inherited shares, my family shares," Puech said. “If, with the dividends those produced, he bought new Hermès shares, then he could resell those—but not the original inheritance."
And yet, that’s exactly what happened—though the truth remained hidden from Puech for nearly two decades.
A 2012 report by France’s stock-market authority said that four years earlier, Freymond had transferred about 4.8 million Hermès shares from Puech’s account to a vehicle called Dilico, before channeling them to Société Générale as part of an equity swap with Arnault’s group.
Freymond long maintained he had simply routed other shares through Puech’s account before moving them on to LVMH, but regulators didn’t believe him. He finally acknowledged the sales when questioned by magistrates earlier this year.
“Absolutely," he replied. “The acquirer was indeed LVMH, and Mr. Puech was perfectly informed." He contended Puech is now trying to evade responsibility in order to placate his family.
Puech told the magistrates that he hadn’t been informed at all, calling it another lie. Because the shares passed through the French bank, LVMH did not know where they originated from, people close to the company said. People familiar with Arnault’s thinking said he didn’t know LVMH was buying Puech’s stake.
Freymond sold the Hermès shares at an average of €86.66 per share between April and May 2008. Today they are worth more than €2,000 apiece, which would put Puech’s stake at more than $15 billion if it had never been sold.
After Arnault’s stock acquisitions finally became public in late 2010, it set off a bitter feud with the Hermès family that would drag on for years.
Puech, relying on the assurances of Freymond, insisted throughout the litigation that followed that his own holding had never been part of Arnault’s effort—despite the suspicions of other family members.
Part of Puech’s conviction came from the paper trail Freymond assembled, including in 2012, when Freymond wrote to Hermès stating that Puech owned more than 6 million shares. A few months later, Puech voted at the annual meeting as Hermès’s largest individual shareholder and was elected to the board.
Constant companions
During this period, Freymond assumed even more control over Puech’s life, including opening his mail and fielding his phone calls. Friends and acquaintances who encountered Puech in those years say they never saw him without Freymond at his side.
Henri-Louis Bauer, who managed the Hermès family holding company, told a French magistrate in 2016 that he believed Puech was under Freymond’s sway. He recounted traveling to Spain with a lawyer and a psychologist to visit the heir. At first, Puech seemed interested in talking, even asking to review documents Bauer had brought.
“But that same evening, when we tried to call him back as he had asked, he no longer picked up the phone," Bauer said. “By the next day, his line had been cut."
People close to Puech say Freymond surrounded him with a small circle of associates, including a lawyer named François Besse. The effect, they say, was to create an echo chamber: When both a trusted financial adviser and a lawyer repeated the same message, it reinforced Puech’s belief in what he was being told.
Months before his 75th birthday, Puech received a memo dated September 2017 that was signed by Besse. It warned that legal proceedings “initiated by your family" were under way and laid out a strict set of instructions: He was not to travel to France; he must alert Besse ahead of every trip; and he was to avoid any contact with relatives about his whereabouts, according to the memo, which was reviewed by the Journal.
The memo urged vigilance with phones—“a single call on, or from, a mobile makes it possible to locate the person on the other end"—and advised him never to accept surprise visitors or answer questions: “Remember, the most harmless questions are the most dangerous."
According to people close to Puech, the same warnings and instructions were also being reinforced directly by Freymond, both before and after the memo.
Freymond himself helped to organize the birthday celebration, which took place in Spain. Vanity Fair, which covered the weekend, described guests arriving by horse-drawn carriage for a dinner and flamenco party, and there were also cultural tours of castles and art galleries. Among the seventy invitees were Farah Diba Pahlavi, widow of Iran’s last shah, former French culture minister Frédéric Mitterrand, and a scattering of aristocrats and artists.
It was also conspicuous for who was missing: any other members of the Hermès family.
Puech later told investigators he went out of his way to avoid his family during this time.
“I often spent holidays in France with Jadil, his wife and their children, but we had to do so incognito in Scotland to avoid running into members of my family. Mr. Freymond was afraid I might speak to my nieces."
Money trail
All the while, in the background, Puech’s fortune was quietly on the move.
An audit by FTI Consulting recently commissioned by Puech’s legal team found that at the end of 2013, Puech still held 535,899 Hermès shares, then worth about €134.4 million and making up the bulk of his fortune. Over the next decade, that position dwindled to nothing.
Again and again, auditors discovered transfers that pointed back to Freymond or people close to him. In one 2017 deal, according to a document reviewed by the French investigation, 200,000 Hermès shares were routed to the Dubai investment firm Noor Capital, where Olivier Couriol oversaw assets and funds administration. That transfer was made through a Panama-registered shell called Veladale Gardens, administered by Freymond.
Couriol is a Franco-Swiss financier with a background in banking in Geneva and Dubai. He has been linked to a number of high-profile fraud and money-laundering cases. In 2019, he drew the attention of U.S. authorities for allegedly helping to arrange the sale of part of Venezuela’s gold reserves to the United Arab Emirates, a transaction he said was carried out by his company, not him personally, and which he said was entirely legal. Efforts to reach him for comment were unsuccessful.
When French investigators asked Freymond about his relationship with Couriol earlier this year, he said Couriol had been someone he had worked with since 2006.
A separate report found that six funds and two special-purpose vehicles held by Puech were managed by Nemo Asset Management, an Emirati company which French investigators described as being operated by Couriol. Through Nemo, some €25.8 million of Puech’s money was invested in Hydroma, a company developing natural hydrogen projects in West Africa.
Freymond also set up joint accounts with Puech, including one at the Geneva bank Gonet into which Puech placed around €35.8 million. According to the FTI audit, the outgoing transfers mainly benefited Freymond, with the money spent on a range of purchases, from stocks to art. When that account was eventually closed, it still held nearly €15 million in cash and investments, which were transferred to Freymond.
Other transfers reviewed by investigators include a payment of 7 million Swiss francs in July 2015 made from one of Puech’s accounts to Freymond himself. Between 2014 and 2023, roughly €4.4 million also flowed to Triuniversal Holding—later renamed Gabriel Holding—a Czech company where Freymond sat on the board and which he said produced movies. And there were some €7 million in transfers to Besse.
“Freymond was very generous with those around him," Puech told investigators. “Mr. Besse really lined his pockets, didn’t he?"
In an email to the Journal, Besse said he disputed the information regarding payments made to him but did not elaborate.
Mad scramble
In his last few years, Freymond appeared to scramble to keep up appearances.
In late February 2022 and again in March of that year, he dipped into the estate of his recently deceased client, Richard Desurmont, to extend two loans of €10 million apiece to Puech.
When the funds arrived, Puech’s account at Gonet had been overdrawn for months. The loan, however, never benefited the heir. Of it, €13.7 million was channeled into shares of Hydroma, while another portion went into trades in the stock of Moderna, the biotech firm. The Moderna shares fell, and the investment lost about €500,000 before it was closed out, according to documents reviewed by French investigators.
Puech told investigators he never agreed to the loans or other transactions, and says that his signature on an authorization letter must be fake, as he was in Tanzania on the date in question.
Desurmont’s family sued Puech in an effort to recover the money, and later sued Freymond for misappropriating assets.
After Paz, the wife of his longtime handyman, pointed out to Puech that Freymond had lied about the transfer of the one million francs, Puech turned to a former ambassador and a notary in a nearby town for advice. The notary wrote to Freymond several times seeking information about Puech’s financial affairs, but received no substantive response. In 2023, Puech launched lawsuits against Freymond in both Geneva and Paris, accusing his longtime adviser of stripping him of his fortune.
By the middle of the following year, Freymond was making increasingly desperate attempts to raise cash.
First, he hatched a plan to “reissue" six million Hermès shares and sell them off quietly, contending that they were a replacement for Puech’s missing shares, according to people he spoke to about the plan. He enlisted a banker to draw up papers for the deal, promised him a 6% cut, and told them he had connections inside a European stock exchange who could arrange the transaction.
Freymond didn’t hide his own need for money, telling the banker he needed €100 million before the end of the year—though he ultimately dropped the scheme before it went anywhere.
Next, Freymond was involved in an attempt to sell the nonexistent shares to Qatar. According to documents filed alongside a later lawsuit, he and Besse presented themselves as acting on Puech’s behalf, and agreed to sell more than six million Hermès shares they said Puech owned to an investment vehicle backed by the Persian Gulf nation. The two sides signed a stock purchase agreement on Feb. 10.
Puech says he was entirely in the dark, and that he learned about the supposed deal in April from a news article. The piece reported that the Hermès heir was being sued in Washington, D.C., for allegedly reneging on the deal.
In an email, Besse said he disputed this account, but gave no details.
In the weeks that followed, Freymond’s acquaintances tried to convince Puech that the missing shares had been found. One sent a text that relayed what he called “exceptional news": A “great royal family" had traced his long-lost Hermès stock to a company in the U.S. Another claimed that Puech was in line for a €2 billion payout—provided he agreed to the supposed sale immediately.
But Freymond’s hold over Puech was now broken. He brushed both of them off, telling them to speak to his lawyer.
The Hermès heir continues to discover fresh signs of his financial ruin. Puech learned earlier this year that the house in the Swiss hamlet of Ferret—his primary residence—is not his. It legally belongs to a foundation he established called Isocrates. He no longer holds the right to use it.
“I must have signed documents," he told magistrates, though he said he had not realized it at the time.
The foundation has contemplated selling the property back to him, a prospect Puech rejected: “I cannot buy this house twice."
One of the heir’s advisers has instead floated the idea of a symbolic repurchase for a single Swiss franc, but nothing has yet come of it.
