Beware the Odd Angles
In the import/export business. Utterly, irreversibly, hopelessly insane.
0 SAN (Negative like 60 in point of fact. Damn you, Yog Sothoth)
Simon Bailey was born into privilege, his parents owning a successful import/export business with fur trappers and traders in Canada. He pursued a business degree at Harvard, and enlisted to fight Ivan in the great war. While abroad, he ran afoul of a volley of mustard gas and escaped with his life, barely, dragging a fellow soldier along with him. His compatriot expired from the exposure to the caustic substance, and Simon was left with disfiguring scars across his face, leaving him doomed to bachelorhood for the remainder of his days.
He finished his degree and eventually took over the family business, expanding from only Canadian contacts to some oriental silk importing, and when prohibition engaged in full-swing, he dabbled in rum running, supplying speakeasies on the side. His greatest joy has always been his niece, Ellen Bailey, who he has primed to take over the company after he retires.
Posted his last will and testament, leaving his fortune to his niece suddenly, before disappearing into a slum area of San Francisco.