The Friday Interview: In terms of comebacks, Norkom boss Paul Kerley could give Lazarus a run for his money. Just six years ago, in the wake of the dotcom meltdown, Norkom was on its deathbed. "We were within a heartbeat of a near-death experience," Kerley says. "It was a case of do we ring the bankers or do we ring the lawyers.
"We had a board meeting on a Friday and I got the weekend to come up with a new business plan."
At the time, Norkom's focus was on customer relationship management (CRM) software, a hugely competitive market at the time. Sixty per cent of its business was in Ireland.
In December 2000 the company pulled a flotation on the Nasdaq just 2½ weeks before it was due to list. The company subsequently slashed its headcount from 260 to 50 in the space of 14 months as corporations reined in their spending on technology.
Norkom announced losses of €20 million in 2001. "We had messed a few things up," Kerley admits, "but we had a good management team that could go around the world and close deals".
Kerley ditched its broad-based CRM product and refocused the business on fighting financial crime globally, a growing business area. "We had to come up with a recession-proof model," he explains.
With Shane Reihill, chairman of Trinity Venture Capital, and billionaire Denis O'Brien prepared to provide more cash, Norkom survived. "They looked at the business plan, they looked at me and they took a bet on the people," says Kerley.
That bet has since paid a handsome dividend. In 2002, the company signed up Bank of Montreal as a customer. It was its first big breakthrough.
"We met innovators who understood the technology," he says. "HSBC was another very significant deal for us."
On Tuesday, Norkom produced its first set of annual results as a public company. Revenues rose by 38 per cent to €25 million while its pre-tax profit was up 85 per cent, to €3.6 million. Only about 2 per cent of its business is in Ireland. The rest is spread around the world and the company has large offices in Boston and Sydney.
Having floated in June 2006 at €1.24 a share, Norkom is trading at €2. Its market value has risen by 66 per cent per cent to €165 million.
Unlike Lazarus, there's no evidence of Jesus taking a direct hand in Norkom's revival, although Kerley does admit to having said a few prayers along the way.
Sitting in the front lounge of the Shelbourne Hotel, with his bags packed ready for a three-week investor roadshow, Kerley admits that it took a toll on his self-esteem. "I care an awful lot about my integrity. I was devastated by what happened. I couldn't really hold my head up high in my own mind. For those who stuck with us, it's starting to come good for us now."
Kerley describes himself as a "boring b*****d" who lives a "plain" life. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Raised in Dundalk, Co Louth, he left school and home at the age of 16 with just an Inter Cert (now known as the Junior Cert) under his arm. Needing to earn some money, he applied to the then State training agency Anco (a forerunner of Fás) to become an apprentice electrician.
"I saw it as a way into technology," he says.
He sat an IQ test, breezed it and was politely told to go away because he was too intelligent. "I was devastated," he says. "I didn't fully understand what it meant at the time."
Working in a variety of jobs, he spent almost a decade educating himself at night.
He started by sitting the Leaving Certificate; his studies took him through the College of Commerce in Rathmines, the Dublin Institute of Technology on Kevin Street and Dublin City University.
He gradually worked his way up the corporate ladder, including stints in senior positions with Cap Gemini, Ernst & Young, Amdahl Corporation and System Industries.
In 1998 he founded Norkom along with Ray O'Donnell, Killian Colleran and Colm Crossan. Two years later he was chosen as the Ernst & Young's Emerging Entrepreneur of the Year.
It seemed like he could do no wrong. That was before the dotcom bubble burst spectacularly and blew Norkom's plans apart.
Kerley's focus is now on combating financial crime. It is big business. Depending on whom you believe, financial fraud is costing anywhere between $500 billion and $1 trillion a year.
"This money is going to be used to fund terrorism and drugs which have a huge impact on our society."
He says Norkom's software has been used to track the activities of some of the world's most notorious gangs, including the Triads and al-Qaeda.
"With financial fraud, the goal posts keep shifting every year," he says. This obviously is both a challenge and an opportunity.
At the moment, Kerley says Norkom has a 10 per cent share of a hugely fragmented global market. "Hence there's an M&A [ mergers and acquisitions] opportunity," he says.
Kerley says there's no reason why Norkom cannot build a 30 per cent market share over the next five years.
"I know the potential of this market. There's room in the market for a player with turnover of €150-200 million."
He doesn't say it, but the twinkle in Kerley's eye tells you he thinks Norkom should be that player.
Given his life experiences, it's hard to believe Kerley is still just 43 years of age. He owns 8 per cent of Norkom's shares, which are worth €13 million.
Denis O'Brien no longer sits on the board of Norkom but Kerley describes him as a "personal mentor" and the telecoms billionaire continues to be a shareholder.
Having successfully rebuilt the company over the past six years, Kerley is sanguine about what the future might hold. "I'll be with the company for as long as I'm doing the job and if I'm not, then I won't."
