Man charged in New York with 3-week kidnapping to try to steal Bitcoin
NEW YORK :A grand jury has indicted a 37-year-old cryptocurrency investor accused of kidnapping a business partner in Manhattan's upscale Soho neighborhood for three weeks, shocking him with electric wires, and dangling him over a staircase to try to get him to give up his Bitcoin password, prosecutors said on Wednesday.
John Woeltz was arrested on May 23, court records show. According to a criminal complaint filed in Manhattan criminal court, an unnamed man told New York City police that Woeltz and another man, William Duplessie, on May 6 took his electronic devices and passport demanded he give up his password so they could steal his cryptocurrency.
Woeltz and Duplessie, 33, have not yet entered pleas. Their lawyers declined to comment.
Local media have called Woeltz a cryptocurrency investor and described the alleged victim as an Italian man. Both had ties to a crypto hedge fund in New York, the New York Times reported, citing an internal police report described by a law enforcement official.
When the man refused to share his password, Woeltz and Duplessie allegedly began a series of brutal beatings until the man managed to escape weeks later. They tied his wrists, hit him on the head with a gun, and threatened to kill his family, according to the complaints against the two men.
Duplessie was arrested on Tuesday and is due in court for a preliminary hearing on Friday. Judges have ordered both men detained.
Woeltz is due to be arraigned on June 11.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
CNA
an hour ago
- CNA
Somebody that I used to know: On the weird grief of colleague departures
This question has become part of my awkward welcome ritual for new hires: 'So ... are you a coffee person?' Day one usually begins at the cafe downstairs with a quick hello, a commemorative libation (coffee or otherwise), then a climb up the stairs to commence our journey as co-workers. Over the past decade of running my company, I've continued to personally onboard new workers. It's not that I can't trust someone else to do it. I just really enjoy it. I like showing them our 'designated crying area' (our pantry space) and explaining the curious phenomenon of the office bidet geyser. I like going through our culture deck, throwing in a few jokes to break the ice and seeing them decide how heartily they should laugh. It's orientation, yes, but also something more – a quiet hope that if you make them feel welcome and you remember their coffee order, they might stay a little longer. Then they leave. Sometimes after three years, sometimes three months. Sometimes on a good note, sometimes a strained one. And in that abrupt silence that follows, between offboarding checklists and looking at handover documents, I find myself wondering if any of these efforts were worth it. WON'T YOU STAY WITH ME? About a decade ago, the first person that I hired when I started the company decided to make a jump to a much bigger, more prestigious agency. It was a competitor but it paid her better and had a much more conducive structure for her career development. It made sense for her. We parted on good terms, but it was hard to maintain the same friendship once we no longer shared the day-to-day routines. Even seeing her career milestones pop up on social media triggered a small wave of disappointment – not at her, but at myself. It was insecurity and a bit of resentment all wrapped up in a forced double-tap of the 'like' button. We didn't speak for a long time. Only after a good five years had passed could we both approach the situation with some perspective and humour. Thankfully, we're now friendly again. This isn't a story about attrition rates or talent migration. It's about the emotional tax of investing in people who eventually walk away. No one tells you, when you first become a manager, that the job requires a strange kind of short-term memory. You pour time into someone, build a rhythm, start speaking in shared references and inside jokes – and then, poof, they're gone. Off to bigger things and better pay. The relationship seems to end abruptly there, apart from the occasional LinkedIn sightings. I know that's just the way the cookie crumbles. The workplace today is a revolving door of industry pivots, mental health breaks and career realignments. Everyone's chasing something – balance, purpose, remuneration, title and so on – and it's unlikely that staying in one place can offer everything. Still, why do I feel a small sting every time someone leaves? SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW I'll be honest. I still find it difficult not to take departures from the company personally. Not in a dramatic, weeping-in-the-toilet way, but in those smaller moments. When a photo of a past team outing pops up on social media, in a photo album or the memories in your head. Or when you retrieve an old presentation deck and you see the names tagged in the slides. Certainly not because they're wrong to go but maybe it's because, for a brief window of time, I had imagined a future where we'd keep building something together. This emotional dilemma isn't exclusive to managers and supervisors. The departure I've taken the hardest happened when I was still a junior executive, in the infancy of my career. At the time, I was part of a desk cluster with a senior who wasn't my direct boss, but who had become a de facto mentor. Christopher was soft-spoken, serious and a little stoic, but he always humoured my terrible puns. We'd often sneak off for 'planning sessions' at the canteen that had very little to do with planning. We talked about movies, music, family – the kind of conversations that anchor you during chaotic work days. One afternoon, Christopher told me that the following week would be his last with the company. He'd found a better opportunity elsewhere. In the 2002 Hong Kong movie Infernal Affairs, there's a pivotal scene where Tony Leung, playing an undercover police officer, watches the only person who knows his true identity get killed. The camera lingers on his expression of shock and horror and this remains one of the strongest gut punches in cinematic history. On that day when Christopher told me the news, my expression would've made Tony's look mild at best. 'Oh. Congrats, Chris!' I managed to say. 'Happy for you.' Two weeks later at his cleaned-out desk, I shook his hand and said all the right things: 'Let's keep in touch. Don't be a stranger.' What I couldn't shake was the strange sense of grief and futility. What would be the point of keeping in touch if we no longer worked together? FRIENDS ARE FRIENDS … FOREVER? What is 'workplace culture'? We like to talk about it in terms of values and vision statements, but most of it comes down to the people. It is who you sit next to, the person who replies with a meme instead of a boring thumbs-up, the one who makes the 5pm slump bearable. So when they leave, it isn't just another email from the human resource department. It's a permanent glitch in your work day. Conventional business wisdom dictates that investing in people is never a waste, even when they might come and go – because people are the most valuable assets of any company. I've echoed those things. I even genuinely believe them. But there's another truth, too: that what isn't a waste can still sometimes feel like one regardless. It's only human of us to feel something, especially after we've poured hours into someone – coaching, giving feedback, having conversations over coffee and bubble tea – only to have them resign right when they finally started getting it. Maybe it is not quite bitterness but certainly, there is a sense of jadedness. The kind that makes you want to pull back with the next person, just a little. Don't get too attached. Don't ask about their weekend or their interests. Don't joke too much. Here's the catch: If you stop investing in your people earnestly and genuinely, you will slowly become the kind of manager you swore you'd never be. Transactional. Coldly efficient. Checked out. And ironically, that's exactly the kind of environment people want to leave. So I will keep trying, even when the farewell Slack message reads like a LinkedIn boilerplate. I will keep hoping that somewhere along the way, the time we spent together meant something. That, in between rushed deadlines and Monday check-ins, we managed to become more than just colleagues ticking boxes on a task list. Maybe that's the point – to make the workplace not just somewhere people pass through, but somewhere they felt seen, where they felt real connection, even if briefly. I love how Andy Bernard movingly puts it in the series finale of American sitcom The Office: "I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them." The real treasure, as they say, might just be the friends we made along the way.
Independent Singapore
8 hours ago
- Independent Singapore
Cracking the code: How the insurance industry can win over Gen Z
As Gen Z, those born between 1997 and 2012, enter maturity, it's restructuring industries worldwide. Branded for their tech eloquence, realistic financial behaviours, and social cognisance and responsiveness, this generation has become the most dominant consumer group. However, despite their expanding economic leverage, there is one industry that's struggling to connect with them—insurance. Many studies expose a conspicuous gap between Gen Z and those within the insurance industry. With Gen Z's acceptance rates and deep-seated cynicism, it's obvious that the conventional approach is not working. However, this challenge also presents a significant opportunity if the industry is prepared to adapt and evolve. A generation largely uninsured According to a 2024 study by the National Association of Insurance Commissioners (NAIC) featured in a recent article from Finance Yahoo, less than 21% of Gen Z adults have renters' insurance. The numbers decrease even further with other major products—only 5% have contents insurance, 24% have life insurance, and 30% have travel insurance. This gap is not merely because of indifference. Since Gen Z individuals are evolving in an environment fraught with economic uncertainties, grappling with rising housing costs, student loan debts, and a volatile job market, insurance becomes a distant concern, a luxury they're considering getting 'someday.' Trust gap and why traditional insurance falls flat Gen Z's unwillingness also came from a profound distrust of legacy financial organisations. Having matured during economic recessions and amid online half-truths, many view underwriters as multifaceted, profit-driven individuals who are difficult to deal with and even harder to trust. There is also a prevalent opinion that insurance is something you need later, once you have a loan, start a family, or develop health problems. Until then, it's easy to depend on the mentality of 'I'll deal with it if something happens.' As a consequence, many Gen Z-ers either postpone insurance decisions or completely disregard them. Bridging the gap with education and digital innovation Approximately two-thirds of Gen Z mention a lack of knowledge and understanding about getting insurance. Likewise, trust is a key barrier to buying one. Even more disturbing, 48.1% of them say that they never think about insurance at all or assume it's already covered in the apps and services they're using. See also Guide to Health Insurance Plans in Singapore (2023) To alter these scenarios, insurance providers must meet Gen Z where they are—online. Affiliating with content makers on platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube could help clarify and interpret the fine print. Quick, relevant videos on topics such as how deductibles work or why renters' insurance is important can have a huge influence. Simplify, digitise, and humanise Gen Zers are not anti-insurance—they merely can't see themselves in the way it's presently promoted or designed. With low homeownership rates, economic setbacks, and a preference for speedy, user-friendly digital solutions, they need insurance that feels relevant, accessible, manageable, and reliable. The industry has a fundamental choice to make—continue with 'business as usual,' or advance and transform into a space that speaks directly to this generation. This is not just about transforming a brand; it's a call for an in-depth modification, one that streamlines, digitises, and, most significantly, personalises how insurance is made available.
CNA
13 hours ago
- CNA
Trump plans to double steel, aluminium tariffs to 50%
WEST MIFFLIN, Pennsylvania: US President Donald Trump on Friday (May 30) said he planned to increase tariffs on foreign imports of steel and aluminium to 50 per cent from 25 per cent, ratcheting up pressure on global steel producers and deepening his trade war. "We're going to bring it from 25 per cent to 50 per cent – the tariffs on steel into the United States of America, which will even further secure the steel industry in the United States," he said at a rally in Pennsylvania. Trump announced the tariff increase on steel products at a speech given just outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where he was talking up an agreement between Nippon Steel and US Steel. Trump said the US$14.9 billion deal, like the tariff increase, will help keep jobs for steel workers in the US. He later posted on social media that the increased tariff would also apply to aluminium products and that it would take effect on Wednesday. Shares of steelmaker Cleveland-Cliffs Inc surged 26 per cent after the market close as investors bet the new levies will help its profits. The doubling of steel and aluminium levies intensifies Trump's global trade war and came just hours after he accused China of violating an agreement with the US to mutually roll back tariffs and trade restrictions for critical minerals. Canada's Chamber of Commerce quickly denounced the tariff hike as "antithetical to North American economic security". "Unwinding the efficient, competitive and reliable cross-border supply chains like we have in steel and aluminium comes at a great cost to both countries," Candace Laing, president of the chamber, said in a statement. Trump spoke at US Steel's Mon Valley Works, a steel plant that symbolises both the one-time strength and the decline of US manufacturing power as the Rust Belt's steel plants and factories lost business to international rivals. Closely contested Pennsylvania is also a major prize in presidential elections. The US is the world's largest steel importer, excluding the European Union, with a total of 26.2 million tons of imported steel in 2024, according to the Department of Commerce. As a result, the new tariffs will likely increase steel prices across the board, hitting industry and consumers alike. Steel and aluminium tariffs were among the earliest put into effect by Trump when he returned to office in January. The tariffs of 25 per cent on most steel and aluminium imported to the US went into effect in March, and he had briefly threatened a 50 per cent levy on Canadian steel but ultimately backed off. Under the so-called Section 232 national security authority, the import taxes include both raw metals and derivative products as diverse as stainless steel sinks, gas ranges, air conditioner evaporator coils, horseshoes, aluminium frying pans and steel door hinges. The 2024 import value for the 289 product categories came to US$147.3 billion, with nearly two-thirds aluminium and one-third steel, according to Census Bureau data retrieved through the US International Trade Commission's Data Web system.
