character in an Ayn Rand novel.

Tall and supremely confident, the commodities and futures trading whiz was a Wall Street legend while still in his 20s. Now 38 and managing a $2 billion fund in self-imposed exile in Bermuda, he says he has generated profits in 95 of the past 99 months. He's even a big fan of the late free-market philosopher and novelist, giving generously to an institute that promotes her view that selfishness is a virtue and sacrificing for others is wrong.

Kid brother Timothy W., now 33, is another story. He was once Monroe's trusted lieutenant. But a few years ago, Monroe concluded Tim was mishandling high-stakes assignments and alienating senior aides, executives close to Monroe say. So Monroe fired Tim. Recently, the spurned brother, who denies performing poorly, went to court seeking compensation for what he claims is his stake in Trout Trading Management Co. and blaming their rift partly on Monroe's purported obsession with Rand.

Brothers feud over fund The feud, played out in courts in Bermuda, Canada, Monaco and three states in the US, shines light on an offshore trading empire that the famously private Monroe has gone to extraordinary lengths -- including renouncing his US citizenship -- to keep private.

A few months ago, Tim also sued two leading philosophers associated with the Ayn (rhymes with fine) Rand Institute. The allegation: In an attempt to make more money available for themselves and their institute, the philosophers provided Monroe with "pseudo-moralistic justifications'' for cutting Tim off, "based upon the supposed behaviour of characters in the novel `Atlas Shrugged.''' In that book, steel magnate Hank Rearden looks with disgust on a whiny kid brother who lives shamelessly off the titan's fortune. Mr. Rearden senses his brother Philip is about to betray him and banishes him from his steel mills.

The boyish-looking, golden-haired Monroe commands a trading floor of brainy ex-college athletes who trade in shifts, 24 hours a day, on terminals that seem worlds away from Bermuda's pink beaches. Monroe displays Rand passages on the wall, including one saying a trader "does not give or take the undeserved.'' Nevertheless, he says his break with Tim "has nothing to do with the Rand philosophy,'' adding: "If we were all Episcopalians, it would've happened anyway.'' What is certain is that Trout Trading has paid Tim handsomely. Tim made several million dollars in salary and bonus annually working with Monroe.

Since being fired in 1995, he has collected $21 million under a "separation agreement'' between the brothers and moved to the wealthy playground of Monaco, where his lawyers say he "manages his assets.'' In a letter last October, Tim demanded $362 million for what he asserts is his 12.5 percent stake in TTMC and as compensation for being denied the right to purchase an additional 12.5 percent, or he would "move against (Monroe) with various regulatory agencies,'' according to court pleadings in several states. He contends his brother is worth hundreds of millions of dollars and is cheating Uncle Sam.

But in November, Monroe filed a police complaint against Tim in Monaco for extortion and theft of TTMC documents, again getting the better of him. Monaco police arrested and jailed Tim for ten days; charges are pending, and Tim denies wrongdoing.

Monroe seemed to have it all, even as a teen. Six-feet-eight-inches tall (an inch taller than Tim), he got near-perfect SAT scores, sailed into Harvard and captained that school's basketball team. He knew by age 20 he wanted to be a trader.

Tim captained the College of William & Mary's basketball team. After graduating in 1988, Tim joined his brother's company. "I worshipped my brother,'' Tim says in a lawsuit filed in New York. Monroe recalls telling Tim at the time: "I don't think this is a good idea.'' Soon, Monroe was reading voraciously about objectivism, the Rand philosophy with an avid following among such prominent business leaders as the Fed's Alan Greenspan and money manager Victor Niederhoffer, who introduced Monroe to the writings of Rand (she died in 1982). So taken was Monroe that he named a clearing firm owned by his futures-trading fund Rand Financial Services. He sometimes griped about paying the tax man, court exhibits filed in New York show. In 1990, he set up a Bermuda company to collect the incentive fee for his futures fund, and moved the fund from Chicago to Bermuda. In a memo filed in Tim's suits, an aide of Monroe's said the moves were designed "to combat the government's annual plundering'' of the company's earnings. Monroe cites federal regulations then in place that prevented US futures funds from trading in Japanese futures and other markets. He later took Irish citizenship.

Monroe's lead attorney, Martin Pollner, says two major law firms have reviewed Monroe's taxes and found nothing improper.

Investors flocked to TTMC's portfolio, Trout Trading Fund, paying a steeper-than-average 4 percent management fee and 22 percent of their profits.

The fund, which has won praise from peers for its consistent returns in volatile markets, says it averaged a compound annual return of 22.3 percent since 1988.

As Monroe grew more successful, so did his problems with Tim. Monroe sometimes dressed down Tim for asking others to take care of jobs he expected Tim to handle personally, say TTMC executives. Despite being a top executive there, Tim struck many colleagues as unhappy. "He didn't have by any stretch the enthusiasm for the business,'' says Arthur F. Bell, TTMC's accountant. At the same time, Monroe struck up a friendship with two Ph.D.s whose names grace the prologues to many of Rand's bestselling books, Leonard Peikoff and Harry Binswanger. They came to Bermuda to give objectivist seminars that Monroe organised for friends. In 1994, Monroe drew up a will and letter of intent that left $20 million to the Ayn Rand Institute and $200,000 to Dr.

Binswanger, while still giving Tim control of most of his estate, including his companies, if he died.

For a time, Tim warmed to the philosophers, even taking telephonic classes from Dr. Binswanger. But his distrust grew. Tim complained to friends that Monroe had called him "Philip Rearden,'' referring to the weak brother in Atlas Shrugged. (Monroe denies doing so.) The philosophers won't discuss the Trouts, but Dr. Binswanger says Rand believed "the fact that someone is a blood relation does not per se entitle him to any special status.'' Trout brothers feud over hedge fund His voice rising, Dr. Binswanger says: "Charity out of guilt is a fraud.'' Monroe says he grew increasingly worried that working with Tim was destroying their "brotherly relationship''. In 1994, he asked Tim to sign the "Separation Agreement'' that specified Tim's profit-sharing payments would be cut in half if he ever was fired. The document also stated: "Tim agrees that he does not own any equity in TTMC.'' Tim signed it, though he now says in court papers he did so under duress. He contends Monroe wanted to avoid the tax liability of having a US shareholder in TTMC, an allegation Monroe's attorney calls "fantasy.'' In 1995, Tim moved to Bermuda and the brothers worked alongside each other for the first time in years. Monroe heard reports that Tim had asked employees to do personal chores, such as arguing with his condo association about his dog, say executives familiar with the situation. Tim denies asking company employees to handle such tasks. Monroe fired him that year.

Tim soon argued that investments he had made in TTMC and related companies translated into a big equity stake. Monroe says he shared profits with Tim but never ownership; his advisers point to a sheaf of documents showing Monroe is TTMC's sole shareholder.

Over the years, Monroe offered as much as $75 million over 15 years to end the dispute. Tim refused, accusing him of disguising TTMC's success.

Last fall, Tim caught Monroe off guard when he filed several suits in Bermuda, Canada and in three states, alleging Monroe and several associates conspired to cheat him. He also threatened to disclose to the Internal Revenue Service alleged tax improprieties by TTMC. "Only one thing is important now: how much!'' he said in an Oct. 15 letter excerpted in court papers.

Tim's gloating was short-lived. A day after he was arrested in Monaco, TTMC and the philosophers sued Tim and his lawyer in New Mexico federal court for racketeering and trade-secret violations. Monroe's attorneys got a gag order preventing Tim from discussing their relationship. Dr. Binswanger's lawyer, Mark Zauderer, says Tim's former Santa Fe attorney, a former Rand acolyte who had a bitter falling out with the Ayn Rand Institute, used Tim to carry out a "misguided'' vendetta against the philosophers. With settlement talks under way again, Tim recently withdrew the suits against the philosophers and backed out of the Canada case. Tim has since switched lawyers.

But Tim won't let up on Monroe. On February 18, as Monroe was entering a Las Cruces, New Mexico, courtroom for a settlement conference, an agent for Tim served him with a new counterclaim for $360 million, plus punitive damages.

The two brothers later argued outside. Monroe called Tim "an extortionist,'' says someone who was there. Tim stormed away.