Who is this mystery man Henthorn?

As a kid, Barry Henthorn's passion was cars. Before he was a teenager, he fixed up a '56 Chevy two-door that his sister drove to high school. When he was of age, he wheeled around in a rebuilt, bright-yellow Porsche 911.

Hot cars, fast times. Fifteen years later, another car thrust Henthorn into the limelight. His arrangement of a 1988 Mercedes 300CE for Jamal Crawford, the former Rainier Beach High School all-state basketball player, ignited a joint investigation by the University of Michigan and the NCAA.

When the tangled web had been sorted out, Crawford was found to have accepted cars, jewelry and cash from Henthorn. Also, after discussions with Henthorn, Crawford entered the NBA draft last spring, and the subsequent removal of his name did not mitigate the fact he had broken another NCAA rule.

Crawford, now a Michigan freshman, hasn't played since January and will miss 14 games because of an NCAA suspension that could stretch into early next season. The NCAA also ruled that Crawford must donate $11,300 to a charity to repay the support Henthorn provided in violation of the NCAA's rules on amateur status.

But even as Crawford's future rested in the hands of the NCAA, the man who helped put it there remained a mystery.

Barry Henthorn is the 33-year-old president of a telecommunications company. From his corner office on the 22nd floor of the Westin Building, he looks out on Puget Sound. His office phone rings about every 10 minutes; his cell phone vibrates just as frequently.

He sits at his desk, shoulders hunched forward, blue eyes aimed upward. His brown hair is combed straight back, but a few errant hairs sprout straight toward the ceiling.

His hands rest on the desk, moving occasionally to emphasize a point. At times he is defensive, often evasive, but he always says something.

He is a study in contrasts. He bought a $3.6 million house in Edmonds, but has been sued for failing to pay lawyer's fees of less than $30,000. Henthorn concedes his personal consumer-credit rating is poor.

He is touted on his company Web site as a visionary consulted by corporate interests in aerospace, law and international trade. But he hasn't been a model citizen: In the mid-1990s, he had two convictions for driving under the influence of alcohol.

A self-described innovator, Henthorn built his business with an aggressiveness that is the norm in the telecommunications industry.

He said he can't understand the rationale of the rule-bound NCAA, with its manual that attempts to distinguish right from wrong in black-and-white terms. Henthorn's relationship with Crawford is more ambiguous. Henthorn says he acted as a guardian, but was never recognized as guardian by the courts or by the NCAA.

It was a gray area, which is a familiar shade for Henthorn in his business practices, said another telecommunications entrepreneur.

"If he sees an opportunity to do something, he does it," said Lonnie Benson, founder and owner of Bellevue-based Fox Communications. "But I've never known him to do anything that would be illegal or clearly not right.

"In telecommunications, there are so many strange, funky laws and so much ambiguity. He's like me; if he can take advantage of an ambiguity, he'll do it."

Henthorn attended Issaquah High School, where he played tennis and was on the swim team as a senior. After graduating in 1985, he showed an early aptitude for telephone technology. As a freshman at the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, he used an Atari computer and a modem to make calls to his girlfriend in Federal Way, with a technology he termed call transfer.

That would be the forerunner to the foundation of the Seattle company he now heads, Innovative Communications Technology.

Henthorn attended UPS, Bellevue Community College and Seattle University, never earning a four-year degree. In 1989, he joined a growing number of maverick entrepreneurs who sold cheaper long-distance phone service within Western Washington.

The mavericks bridged the lines separating toll-free calling areas by directing calls into places where calling areas overlapped, then switching them on to the next area. Thus a provider like Henthorn's Emerald City Telecommunications could avoid long-distance access fees by bridging a succession of service areas, say from Tacoma to Everett.

"There were just a lot of gray areas," said Kenneth Martin, a former business partner. "No one knew whether it was legal or illegal."

Henthorn contests those terms.

"It could be construed as being compliant or non-compliant," Henthorn said. "Nothing I did had criminal ramifications."

Henthorn soon drew the attention of US West, which filed complaints with the Washington Utilities and Transportation Commission. A UTC law judge sided with US West, ruling that Emerald City Telecommunications was improperly skirting US West's state-set access fees.

Similar UTC rulings forced some of the small companies out of business, but not Henthorn's. Henthorn maintained he wasn't operating as a long-distance company because he was operating his customers' private networks that weren't subject to tariffs.

Henthorn, who wasn't represented at his hearing, appealed its outcome. Then US West dropped its case against him. He soon expanded his business, reselling US Cellular's wireless service.

His current company, Innovative Communications Technologies, is founded on the same principles, pitching customers cheaper long-distance service in addition to providing cell-phone service.

Some clients are happy, some not. A few have sued him, but not an inordinate amount considering the nature of his business.

It is difficult to determine Henthorn's actual wealth. On one hand, he paid $3.6 million for his Edmonds home last fall and ICT has forecast monthly sales of $3 million by June, a figure industry analysts say is highly ambitious.

But New York financial analysts Dun and Bradstreet give ICT its lowest credit rating based on slowness in paying debts and unresolved legal cases. Henthorn challenges some of that information and says his business pays its bills promptly.

A former ICT employee, Darcienne LeRoue, is suing Henthorn, claiming she was coerced into co-signing three loans and that Henthorn owes her a sum less than $10,000. LeRoue said two of the loans she co-signed were for Crawford.

Henthorn said he has tried to settle the suit by paying off the debt, and the only reason LeRoue was asked to co-sign the loans was because of Henthorn's poor credit rating.

"It's embarrassing," Henthorn says. "I don't have good consumer credit."

Crawford isn't the only athlete Henthorn knows. He has hosted a number of local sports figures at his home, and NFL player Eric Metcalf owns 12.5 percent of Henthorn's company, according to Dun and Bradstreet.

Seahawk cornerback Shawn Springs and former Sonic Moochie Norris both said they have met Henthorn, and Amber Hall and Jamie Redd, former University of Washington women's basketball players, said they attended a gathering at Henthorn's house.

"He was a cool person," Redd said. "Whether he brings guys in his home to play basketball or to eat, it's just something to do. I'd almost say he's like a big brother to people, along that line. I find it hard to believe he's an agent."

Corey Dillon, former Washington running back now with the Cincinnati Bengals, says Henthorn approached him to be his agent when they had dinner three years ago.

"He said he had a company," Dillon said. "He would give me a share of the company if I signed with him."

The NCAA concluded Henthorn was not acting as an agent to Crawford although there was an unsigned document alluding to such an arrangement. The contract would have given the Academic Assistance Foundation rights to use Crawford's likeness and negotiate other scholarships. The foundation was started by Henthorn and registered as a non-profit entity in September 1999, after Crawford had enrolled in college. No other student has yet been helped by the foundation.

When the month began, few had heard of Henthorn. Then he rocketed across sports pages in bold headlines, sometimes seeming to revel in the attention.

His motives have been questioned, his personal finances publicized. He has grown weary of the scrutiny and of the aspersions cast as Dillon did last week.

"I haven't seen Barry for three years," Dillon said. "I'd like to keep it that way, after what's been going on."

Henthorn insists his motives were genuine. He said he sees nothing wrong in his friendship with Crawford, a refrain he has repeated throughout the investigation.

"I still accomplished something worthwhile, but people have lost sight of that," Henthorn said. "The kid went back to high school and graduated. The kid is in college now. Most people have lost sight of that . . . and I'd do it again."

Seattle Times' reporters Susan Gilmore and Keith Ervin contributed to this article.

Danny O'Neil can be reached at 206-515-5536 or e-mailed at doneil@seattletimes.com.

Bud Withers can be reached at 206-464-8281 or e-mailed at bwithers@seattletimes.com