In the gold-cufflink world of Italian big business - where industrialists appear in celebrity magazines and almost anyone who matters owns a soccer team - lurks an unusual character.

　　Ascetic and steely eyed, Enrico Bondi is this nation's premier business troubleshooter, known for staring down debt columns with more zeros than a calculator can handle. His latest task is Parmalat, the dairy giant so riddled with fraud that even the hard-man of high finance may blink.

　　Parmalat's misdeeds were sufficiently complex that a team of forensic auditors needed weeks to issue a preliminary figure of its debts. The number: as of last fall, about US$18 billion - eight times what the company's former management had said.

　　Might it be too much for Bondi?

　　"He's the single individual in the country who, if there is a chance, has a chance to pull it off," said economist Francesco Giavazzi of Milan's Bocconi University.

　　Parmalat went into bankruptcy protection in December, and the government appointed Bondi to come up with a plan to save the company, which has 36,000 employees in 30 countries.

　　Bondi never talks to the press and he hasn't issued his plan yet. But he has launched himself at his task with ferocity.

　　A youthful 69 despite his slightly skeletal appearance, Bondi reputedly heads into work around 7am and sometimes continues until 11pm; he stays in a modest three-star hotel near Parmalat headquarters; he often eats lunch at the company cafeteria.

　　He has little interest in big-money society, spending free time around his Tuscan hometown of Arezzo, where his company Il Matto - The Madman - produces small amounts of oil and wine.

　　On taking over Parmalat, Bondi cut company perks, confiscating the keys to the executive Mercedes-Benzes and getting rid of a leased jet - he told the corporate pilots to fly it to Switzerland and suffer the indignity of a train ride back to Italy.

　　"He's a very reserved person, no-nonsense, a man of few words," a source close to the company said. In the press-shy atmosphere, he asked that his name not be used.

　　Bondi is likely to sell off Parmalat's noncore assets, particularly those overseas acquired as part of the previous management's losing 1990s expansion. In a telling sign, Bondi is even expected to get rid of Parmalat's professional soccer squad, Parma Calcio, which for years ate cash to stay one of Italy's top teams, despite being based in this small city of 170,000 people.

　　A humbled Parmalat may end up back where it started: selling dairy products in Italy.

　　Meantime, Bondi keeps plugging away, with the cool of a man who's been doing this sort of rescue all his professional life. He hasn't.

　　Trained as a chemist in Florence, Bondi worked 36 years in research and development and managed a Fiat unit, among other jobs. Then a decade ago, he landed a monumental fix-up job.

　　It was 1993, when powerful investment bank Mediobanca took a chance on Bondi. His task was not slight: to save industrial conglomerate Montedison, which was about to crash into bankruptcy under billions of dollars in debt.

　　Bondi came with scissors, snipping at all excess. Legend has it, he even sold off company paintings and luxurious rugs. Crucially, he persuaded banks to convert their bad debt into shares. Bondi stayed at Montedison for eight years, and helped the company flourish.

　　Eventually, the banks got their capital back and Bondi became a hero. Ever since, he's been hopping from one wobbly concern to another. He helped shape up Olivetti-Telecom Italia Group, supervised the merger of insurance companies Fondiaria and SAI, and of late has been rescuing steelmaker Lucchini.

　　Bondi got involved in Parmalat in December - before the worst came out. Soon after he joined, the crooked dealings emerged.