Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1)

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Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1) Page 16

by Randall Reneau

“It could be the two veins merge above where we’re drilling,” Fish replied. “Remember, this hole is at a seventy-five-degree angle. We’re well below the second level of the original mine workings.”

  “This new vein didn’t show up in the forty-five-degree hole we drilled from this location, did it?” I asked.

  “No. All we saw in the core was the same uranium vein we’ve been chasing.”

  “Okay, drill another hole from the same location, this time at sixty degrees. Let’s try and get an idea if the veins merge or if the copper-gold zone pinches out towards the surface. If we keep intersecting the gold zone along strike, we may want to go back and deepen some of our earlier holes.”

  “I’m all over it, Trace. I’ll get the cores split and off to the lab in the morning. I think the gold values are going to knock our socks off. Plus we’ll have the copper as a kicker.”

  “Good work, Fish. Keep after it and keep me posted. I’ll get word to the rest of the board. I’m sure Jim will be on the next flight to Spokane,” I said with a laugh.

  I called Wally and Will, and filled them in. They both about busted at the seams. Jim was in a meeting in Chicago, so I left him a message. This time the Virus would have to wait for the press release, like all the other shareholders.

  That evening I received an e-mail from Jim. He’d fly into Spokane in a couple of days and wanted to know if I could go up to the mine with him. I e-mailed him back to let me know his flight info so I could pick him up.

  Three days later, I met Jim at the Spokane airport and we headed for Winthrop.

  “Have you got any assays back yet from the cores in the gold-copper intersection?”

  “Not yet, Jim. But they could show up anytime. I put an expedite order on the assays. It costs a bit more, but I figure it’ll be worth it, especially if the assays are as good as Fish thinks they will be.”

  “It’ll make a nice press release. Gold and copper on top of the extraordinary uranium grades. The bloody share price should make a healthy move upwards.”

  “My thoughts, exactly.”

  “Anything new from Cyrus on our Chinese friends?”

  “Not too much. His trader buddy in Hong Kong says they’re still buying. Nothing huge, just steady day-to-day buying. Especially on any dips.”

  “They could be a problem down the road, Trace. I’ve seen them in action in the Australian uranium market. They’re sharp guys, with deep pockets, and they’re ruthless. No quarter asked, none given.”

  I started to reply when my cell phone went off.

  “Trace Brandon.”

  “Trace, Steve Bennet, Mineral Valley Labs. Got a sec?”

  “You bet. What’s up, Steve?”

  “I have some assay info for you. The formal reports will go out to day, from my office.”

  “How’d the gold values look?”

  “Are you driving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Buckled up?”

  “Yes,” I said with a laugh, glancing at Jim.

  “Okay. Looks like you’re averaging about eight-tenths of an ounce gold and about two and a half percent copper.”

  “Wow! Not too damn shabby.”

  “You can say that again. I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “Yeah, it’s really good news, Steve.”

  “Well, while you’re in such a good mood, let me run one other item by you.”

  I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Jim. “Okay, shoot.”

  “I found the leak here at the lab.”

  “Good.”

  “Well, it’s good and bad, Trace.”

  “How so?”

  “The leak came from one of our senior people. A gal named Mary Johnson.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “And, her daughter has terminal brain cancer. Mary’s about exhausted her med insurance and is between a rock and a hard spot. She took the money for the assay data to keep her daughter alive.”

  “I see. So what’s your plan?”

  “She’s a good gal, Trace. I’m not sure any one of us wouldn’t have done the same thing in a similar situation. But, I leave it to you. If you say prosecute, we’ll file a complaint.”

  “Are you going to keep her on?”

  “Yes. On probation. If she screws up again, she’s history.”

  “Okay, here’s my thought. Keeping her on is your decision. I don’t want to be telling you how to run your business. But I don’t want her anywhere near our data. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “Secondly, have her set up an account with a stock brokerage firm in Coeur d’Alene. When it’s done, send me the account information, and I’ll transfer one hundred thousand shares of Montana Creek Mining stock into her account. To use as she sees fit. Remember, she’ll be a shareholder in Montana Creek. Another reason she can have nothing to do with our assays.”

  “Damn, Trace. That’s a hell of a nice thing to do.”

  “Yeah, well, no kid should have to go through cancer.”

  “I’ll tell Mary, and we’ll get everything set up. Thanks, Trace. She really is a good gal. Just made a bad mistake.”

  “No worries, mate, as my Aussie friend always says. Hell, the only guy who never made a mistake lived two thousand years ago. And you couldn’t have hired him anyway.”

  Chapter 34

  Chief Inspector Rand followed the police sergeant to a squad car, where Malcolm Trueblood was waiting, and opened the squad car door.

  “Mr. Trueblood, I’m Chief Inspector Rand. I need to speak with you,” he said, sliding in beside Trueblood and closing the car door.

  “What’s this all about, Inspector?”

  “We found a note the dead fellow, the guy with his pants around his knees lying in the street, evidently wrote just before he expired.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “Your name is on the note. Along with the name, Pantelli.”

  Chief Inspector Rand saw Trueblood flinch at the name Pantelli.

  “I take it from your reaction, you’re familiar with the Pantellis?”

  “Am I being charged with anything?”

  “Not at the moment. We’re just trying to figure out why this fellow was watching you. Why he was carrying a vial of nerve toxin, and why he put your name on the last thing he ever wrote.”

  “I see. So you think I was the intended target?”

  “Yes, I do. Do you remember a while back when a Mr. Richard Rosenburg died of a stroke in a department store parking garage?”

  “Yes, I do recall reading of his death. He lived not too far from me in North Vancouver.”

  “Did you know the man? Have any business dealings with him?”

  “I knew he was involved in penny stock companies and had done fairly well over the years. That’s about it. Why do you mention it?”

  “We think the fellow, lying in the street over there, killed Rosenburg. And you were his next target.”

  “Why would he want to kill me?”

  “I think both you and Rosenburg are, were, involved in some way with the Pantelli crime family out of New Orleans. Look, we’re going to run your passport, travel records, phone records, e-mails, the full-meal deal. If I were you, I’d be very cooperative. Just because they missed tonight, doesn’t mean they won’t try again.”

  “Jesus,” Trueblood whispered, lowering his eyes and nodded. “Yes, I know the Pantellis. I had a meeting with them in Las Vegas a short time ago.”

  “What was the meeting about?”

  “The company I run here in Vancouver, Twisp River Resources, and the Pantellis both own shares in a junior Vancouver-based mining company. I flew down to discuss our mutual holdings and to see how we might better benefit from our stock ownership.”

  “Uh-huh. What’s the name of the mining company?”

  “Montana Creek Mining, Corporation. It trades on the VSE. Symbol is MCM.V.”

  “Do you own the shares personally, or are they owned by Twisp River?”

  “The
y’re owned by the company.”

  “Do you control the company?”

  Trueblood took a deep breath. “No the company is a wholly owned subsidiary of an offshore holding company.”

  “What’s the name and domicile of the offshore company?”

  “Carib International. It’s based in the Cayman Islands.”

  “Who controls Carib International?”

  “I’m not at liberty to disclose that information, sir.”

  “We’ll find out.”

  “Good luck.”

  Inspector Rand smiled. “Okay, Mr. Trueblood. That’s all for now. Do you need a ride home?”

  “No, sir. My car is just down the street.”

  “Okay. Thank you for your help. We’ll be in touch. And Mr. Trueblood, don’t leave town without contacting me first,” Chief Inspector Rand said, handing Malcolm one of his cards.

  First thing the following morning Chief Inspector Rand was on the phone to FBI Special Agent, Beau Monroe.

  “Agent Monroe, this is Chief Inspector Rand in Vancouver.”

  “Yes, sir. And what can I do for you this fine morning, Inspector?”

  “Fine morning? You must not be in Washington. I saw on TV it was snowing like crazy in D.C.”

  Monroe laughed. “That’s why you’re the chief inspector, Inspector. I’m in our New Orleans office. What can I do for you?”

  “I think we got Rosenburg’s killer last night.”

  “No kidding? What happened?”

  Chief Inspector Rand filled Agent Monroe in.

  “The note had Pantelli and Trueblood written on it?” Monroe asked.

  “Yes, those two names and the letters c-h-e-m-i. Which we’re guessing was going to be the word chemist.”

  “Uh-huh. Any ID on the body?”

  “Yes, a passport and a Las Vegas driver’s license. Both in the name of Joseph Baglio. We think both documents are forgeries. We checked with immigration, and Baglio entered Vancouver about a week ago. He rented a car at the airport and a room at a downtown hotel. Then he more or less dropped off the radar screen.”

  “Can you send us his prints?”

  “Will do, just as soon as we get him decon’d enough to take them.”

  “Jesus. He’s a mess, huh?”

  “Well, if he isn’t, he’ll do until a mess comes along.”

  Agent Monroe laughed. “Okay, Inspector, send us everything you can, as soon as you can, and we’ll get on it. By the way, we may have a lead on our dead chemist friend. We located a small-time druggie doing a nickel in a federal pen here in Louisiana. He claims a hit-man, using the nickname of the Chemist, did wet work for the Pantelli Family.”

  “Good work, Agent Monroe. Please keep me posted, and I’ll do likewise. Oh, one other thing. Share ownership in Montana Creek Mining keeps popping up. As you know, it’s a Vancouver company, but according to Trueblood, their mining claims are in Washington State. And if you remember, Rosenburg supposedly shot William Thornton for trying to steal his Montana Creek Mining shares. Well, it turns out Trueblood’s company, Twisp River Resources, is also a shareholder in Montana Creek Mining. And it gets better. According to Trueblood, members of the Pantelli crime family are also shareholders.”

  “The proverbial common denominator. Good work yourself, Inspector. I’ll check on Montana Creek Mining’s U.S. holdings from my end. Please keep me posted on anything else you turn up. With the Pantellis in the melee, it’s likely to get even more interesting.”

  Chapter 35

  Jim Lee and I pulled in near Red’s drill and parked. Fish waved and walked over.

  “Damn, Fish. It’s so cold my dick’s gone into turtle mode,” I said with a chuckle. I didn’t bother to take my glove off when we shook hands.

  Jim nodded and punched Fish lightly on the shoulder. “Bloody good to see you, mate.”

  “Come on in the core shack, fellows. I’ve got something you’ll want to see,” Fish said, gesturing with his left hand toward the small Quonset hut-type building.

  We walked into the warm exterior of the core shack. Fish had box after box of cores up on wooden saw-horses.

  “This is from last night’s core from hole Ten-C,” Fish said, pointing to a wooden core box. “We drilled the hole at a sixty- degree angle. Sort of split the difference between the forty-five degree and seventy-five-degree holes.”

  Jim and I examined the mineral-laden core with our ten- power hand lenses’.

  “Bloody, hell,” Jim said, “this is some damned fine gold-copper ore. By the way, Fish, Trace hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet, but the manager of Mineral Valley labs called while we were driving up here. The assays from the first gold-copper zone cores are back.”

  “What’d they run?” Fish asked, with a huge grin on his face.

  “Eight-tenths gold and two and a half percent copper,” Jim said with a chuckle.

  “Hot damn, I knew they’d be good,” Fish said, slapping his thigh.

  “I think these will be just as good, fellas,” I said, looking at a couple of specs of visible gold in the section of core I was holding.

  “Yeah, I agree,” Jim said, “really good-looking ore.”

  “I’ll get a news release out to the shareholders and the VSE as soon as I get the official results from the lab,” I said. “I think we’ll see a hell of a lot of interest in our shares.”

  Jim laughed. “Yep, ought to drive the bloody chinks right up the wall.”

  Fish looked at us. “Chinks? You mean the Chinese are interested in Montana Creek?”

  “Yep, looks that way,” I said. “Cyrus has a contact in Hong Kong who tipped us off to buying by URAN-China Nuclear Corp. So far they’re just nibbling away. But throwing some high-grade gold and copper into the mix, will likely kick things up a notch or two.”

  Chapter 36

  My cell phone started vibrating. I flipped the phone open and answered.

  “Trace Brandon.”

  “Mr. Brandon, this is Special Agent Beau Monroe with the FBI. Have you got a second?”

  “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “I wonder if we might meet in Spokane in the next day or two.”

  “Yes, sir, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m up on our mining claims, northwest of Winthrop, Washington, at the moment. But I’ve got to drop one of our partners off at the Spokane airport day after tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

  “That would be perfect, Mr. Brandon.”

  “May I ask what this is all about?”

  “We’re working with the Vancouver police on the murder of Richard Rosenburg, one of your shareholders. And on the attempted murder of Malcolm Trueblood, also one of your shareholders, and until recently, one of your directors.”

  “Jesus, somebody tried to kill Malcolm? And I thought Rosenburg had a stroke or something.”

  “Rosenburg was killed with a nerve toxin. I’ll explain when we meet. Spokane terminal, day after tomorrow?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be there.”

  “Good. Call me on this number, and we’ll link up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I hung up. Both Fish and Jim were staring at me.

  “That was the FBI. Somebody tried to kill Malcolm Trueblood. And they want to talk to me the day after tomorrow at the Spokane airport.”

  Jim and I spent the next day with Fish and watched additional cores come up. So far, we were still hitting the uranium vein followed by the gold-copper vein. The next morning we said goodbye to Red and his crew, told Fish to keep up the good work, and headed back to Spokane. Jim had a flight to catch to Los Angeles, and I had a meeting with the FBI.

  I walked with Jim to security check-in, said good-bye, and called Special Agent Beau Monroe.

  “Agent Monroe, it’s Trace Brandon. I’m in the terminal.”

  “Okay, meet me at security between concourses A and B. I’m six one, salt-and-pepper crew-cut hair, and I’m wearing a blue suit.”

  “Got it. Be there in a couple of minutes.”
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  Monroe was easy to spot. He looked like the prototype FBI agent.

  “Agent Monroe? I’m Trace Brandon,” I said, extending my hand.

  “Mr. Brandon, thanks for coming. There’s a wine bar slash restaurant just past security. Follow me.”

  Monroe showed his badge to security, said a few words to the supervisor, and gestured toward me. I went through the security screening. Monroe didn’t.

  We grabbed a table in a quiet area of the small airport restaurant and ordered soft drinks.

  “Mr. Brandon, I wanted to chat with you a bit as we have one homicide, one attempted homicide, and a dead assassin on our hands. Not to mention an unlucky Vancouver police officer who tried to render aid and is also a fatality.”

  “Call me Trace, Agent Monroe. And you think ownership of our shares is somehow related to these killings?”

  “We do. So far it’s the only common denominator. Both Rosenburg and Trueblood owned, own, shares in your company, either directly or indirectly through their companies.”

  “That’s true. Rosenburg was co-owner of the public shell we did a reverse merger with. As part of the transaction, he kept a significant number of founder’s’ shares. Trueblood is CEO of Twisp River Resources, which took down part of our initial private placement.”

  “We understand Twisp River Resources is a wholly-owned subsidiary of a Cayman Island holding company.”

  “Correct. We did some research on Twisp River to see who actually owns or controls our shares. Our findings indicated Carib International, out of Grand Cayman, controls Twisp River.”

  “Do you mind telling me how you were able to ascertain that information?”

  “We employed a local, Cayman Island, securities analyst to do some digging.”

  “I see. All legal and above board, I presume.”

  I just smiled. “It is the Cayman Islands, Agent Monroe.”

  Monroe exhaled through his mouth and nodded.

  “Yes, and thankfully out of my jurisdiction. Are you also aware the Pantelli crime family in New Orleans are shareholders in your company?”

  “We’re a publicly traded company, Agent Monroe. Anybody with a brokerage account and access to the Vancouver Stock Exchange can buy our shares.”

 

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