The Revenge of John W: Desert Intrigue, Daring Prison Escape: Thrilling Action (Unlimited exclusive, Joe Corso Book 1)

by Joe Corso

  “Hey, Persistent,” John yelled. “Come on over here for a minute.”

  Persistent ambled over to where John was squatting over a chest. “Oh my God. Good Lord, but that’s beautiful.”

  “Do you think you would have enough with this to keep you happy in your old age, Persistent?” John gave a mischievous smile, and said kiddingly, “It’s too bad this is all there is. I’d hate to run short of cash, you know.” They both laughed at the ludicrousness of the remark. There was enough money here in this cave to fund nations. This could surpass the wealth of Solomon. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to take a selection of jewels from the chests. Enough for the animals to carry without tiring them. Once we convert some of it into cash, we’ll buy a 4-wheel drive truck and maybe a large box truck to transport the animals in. We’ll buy provisions and equipment, put them in the truck, and drive out here. It will take us a while for us to get all of the gold and jewels into the trucks. Then, we’ll drive the trucks to a safe place. Look, Persistent. I don’t want anyone else involved in this. Let’s just keep this between the two of us, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sure, it’s all right with me. I agree with you, It’s better to keep this just between us. You don’t want something like this to get out, because sure as there’s a God above, someone will try and take it from us.”

  “I agree,” John said. “Well, Persistent, you found the gold mine you’ve been looking for all of your life. And now you’re a rich man. What do you say we finish the job?”

  “Let’s do it, partner.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  John W sold the twenty-dollar gold piece in Phoenix for its historical and not its intrinsic value, which amounted to fifty-five hundred dollars. He bought the most expensive suit he could find, then he went to the largest jewelry store in Phoenix and asked to see the owner. He was escorted into an impressive office that reeked of money.

  Mr. David Greenwald, the owner of the business, greeted him. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I have a few items I’d like to show you that I think you might be interested in.” John W opened his brand new attaché case, which exhibited a black velvet material covering something bulky. He slowly removed the velvet, revealing a number of black velvet pouches, each containing different colored, glittering jewels. John W opened the first three velvet bags, one at a time, and teasingly spread the stones slowly onto the small black velvet jeweler’s apron that he placed on the desk.

  Greenwald quickly recognized the immense value of what Mr. Christo had just placed before him. Mr. Greenwald took his loop from his pocket and asked John for his permission to examine them.

  “Please, by all means. Take your time and examine them thoroughly.”

  Greenwald examined each item with a professional eye until finally he sat back and placed the loop on his desk. “I need a drink. Can I offer you one too?”

  “Sure. Let’s have a drink and celebrate our new relationship.”

  Greenwald looked at John and asked, “Would you know how old these jewels are?”

  “I estimate the seventeenth century but they could be older.”

  “That’s what I think too, but I can’t be sure. What do you want for them, or maybe a better question would be . . . What do you want from me?”

  John smiled slyly. “Mr. Greenwald, these jewels are but a small sample of what I actually own. What if I told you that I have seven large chests filled with jewels just like these? And what if I told you that I want you to find buyers for my gems and act as my agent? I’d like to convert as many of these stones into cash as quickly as possible. I don’t know much about you, Mr. Greenwald. I imagine you are successful in your business and you’ve probably accumulated a lot of money over the years, but if you partner with me, I will make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams. Think of me as Solomon, only my wealth exceeds his.”

  Greenwald poured them both another drink. “What kind of percentage did you say I would get?”

  “I didn’t say, but if we talk about a figure of one billion dollars what would one half percent of that be?”

  “That would be, let’s see now, that would be five million dollars.”

  “I’ll give you that and I’ll double it if you convert half or more of what I give you into cash. Now does that interest you, Mr. Greenwald?”

  “Well, if my commission were to be . . . let’s say, one percent, then I believe I can help you Mr. . . .?”

  “Call me Mr. Christo, John Christo. And I will agree to give you one percent commission but with a condition.”

  Greenwald nodded. “Before you tell me your condition, I’d like you to know that my family owns a rather large jewelry exchange in New York City’s financial district. I’ll call them and tell them about the jewels, and if it’s all right with you, I’ll either have them fly in to see the jewels or we can go see them.”

  “Listen, Mr. Greenwald. Besides the percentage you’re receiving, you will be getting my jewels far below their historical value. You will make money on every aspect of this transaction. I want to walk away with a billion dollars, minimum, in my bank from this first deal of ours. Here’s my condition. Sell one billion dollars of my jewels and the one percent is yours. Sell any less and you only get one half of a percent. Remember not only will you get the percentage I’m giving you, you’ll also get a commission on every gem and all the gold you sell. Your end could amount to a hundred million dollars just on the first billion. Do you agree to my terms, Mr. Greenwald?”

  The enormity of this transaction just walking into his store and dropping in his lap was difficult for Greenwald to believe, but it was real, and it was just handed to him on a golden platter. “I agree, and I’ll do my best to get you your billion dollars, Mr. Christo.”

  John looked at him without smiling and told him. “Just so we understand ourselves. This billion dollars you will be negotiating for me does not represent one percent of my holdings. If you handle this small transaction satisfactorily, I will give you another billion dollars in jewels. When that transaction is completed, we will deal in gold. More gold that you can possibly imagine.” John said this with such conviction, Greenwald hadn’t realized that he had been holding his breath. “Think of this, any future deal is contingent on this lot being sold. Do you understand? And let me give you a little bit of advice. Don’t ever fuck me. I’m the last man in the world you want to fuck. Do that and I will destroy you, but on the other hand if you treat me right, as I told you before, I’ll make you richer than you ever dreamed possible, and you’ll thank god for the day you met me. Do we have a deal? And, more importantly, do we understand each other?

  “Before I leave, I have one other question for you.”

  “Yes? What is the question?”

  “Do you have a secure vault where I can store some of my gold?”

  “Yes, we have a vault downstairs and we have one in our New York facility. Can I ask how much gold you intend to store with us?”

  “Yes. I have about three thousand fifty-pound bars of gold.”

  Greenwald took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. “Did you say . . . three thousand fifty-pound bars of pure gold?”

  “Yes, but it could be more. I haven’t counted them. I just estimated the amount of bars I have. By the way, what’s gold going for these days?”

  “Wholesale, I estimate about fifteen hundred dollars an ounce.”

  “Why don’t you include some of those gold bars of mine? They should fetch a good price right about now, right?”

  “How many bars do you want to sell?”

  “Sell as many as you can. I was figuring on ten of them, but if you could sell a hundred, well that would be fine with me. I’ll leave it up to you, but try not to flood the gold market and drive the price down. Maybe you should sell a little at a time, but that’s your business and I’m not going to tell you how to run it. I’ll leave the details of what’s right, and what’s wrong to you.”

 
; Greenwald agreed with John. “I’ll need a sample. Could you get me one?”

  “Sure, I have a sample in my car. I’ll go and get it. John locked his attaché case, then he left. A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a heavy box. He placed it on Greenwald’s desk and opened the box, then he lifted the gold bar out of the box and laid it on his desk. “Here it is. This should be a good enough sample.”

  “My god, it’s just like you said it was.” Greenwald picked up the gold bar and laid it on a scale. Fifty point two ounces.

  “Look, Mr. Greenwald. Some of these bars will weigh more than fifty pounds and some a little less. We melted the gold down ourselves and we used the crudest methods available to us, so just take each bar as a separate unit, unique unto itself. By the way, why don’t you test the gold to make sure it’s as pure as I say it is? Oh! One more thing, let’s keep this strictly between us. I don’t want any surprise visits from any government agency or the tax people and I don’t want to be surprised by anyone looking to take what’s mine. Do you understand?”

  Greenwald was sweating. If he told anyone about Mr. Christo, he’d lose a fortune for his stupidity. “Yes, I understand completely. Don’t worry. I won’t let you down. I believe this is the start of a beautiful business relationship, Mr. Christo, and one I do not want to see end before it starts.”

  Christo smiled. “Good. Keep your word to me and you will be one hundred times richer that you are right now.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It took a full month to get the gold and jewels out of the cave, down the mountain, and into the truck. Persistent bought a new horse that he also named Daisy Mae. It made him feel as though his old horse was still with him. He used the same burro he’d been using for years. He was still young and certainly strong and durable. The burro was used to Persistent’s ways, and Persistent with his. When the gold was brought down the mountain, they used the burro to transport it to the truck, which John then drove to Greenwald’s bank in Phoenix.

  Greenwald couldn’t believe the amount of gold John Christo was storing in the bank. After each load, he would ask, “Is this it John?”

  “No, Dave, this is just the beginning.”

  God, everything this young man told him was true. He had to be the richest man in the world, thought Greenwald. Greenwald sold the first shipment of jewels and gold and delivered the first one billion dollars that John asked him to get as a condition for his earning the one percent commission.

  The following day, John was on a plane for Switzerland to open a Swiss account. John informed the account manager, a Mr. Lenoire, when they spoke on the phone the previous Monday that he’d be coming to his bank to open an account on Tuesday of this week. John told him he was carrying a substantial amount of money to be deposited into his new account. He chose The Credit Suisse Group AG, a Swiss multinational financial services company headquartered in Zurich, because it operated in more than 50 countries, making it easier for him to manage his money.

  John sat back in a comfortable leather chair, opposite the large desk behind which Mr. Lenoire sat.

  “It was pleasant speaking with you last week, Mr. Christo. What is the amount you wish to deposit?”

  John reached into the inside pocket of his three thousand dollar custom-made suit and handed the envelope to Senior Vice-President Charles Lenoire. When he opened the envelope and saw the amount, he automatically sat bolt upright. He was used to large deposits, but this was the first billion dollar deposit from a civilian depositor. Even though he tried to hide it, his hand shook, and he hoped Mr. Christo hadn’t noticed. Christo, for his part, apparently hadn’t noticed his momentary lapse in composure.

  In reality, John had noticed the shaking of Lenoire’s hand, and he smiled inwardly.

  “This is a substantial deposit, Mr. Christo. I’ll set the account up for you immediately.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Lenoire, but this is only a small fraction of what I intend to deposit in your bank if I’m satisfied with your service.”

  Lenoire, who had just gotten up from his seat, sat back down. “Are you saying that this deposit, the one I’m holding in my hand, is a small amount of what you intend to deposit in this bank. Is this what I heard you say?”

  “Yes. Why?” John acted casually, knowing the amount of the check was staggering. He intended to have a minimum of at least ten billion dollars in this bank before long.

  When the account was set up, John shook Lenoire’s hand. As he was about to leave, he said, “I plan on depositing another billion dollars, possibly next week. Can you handle that amount?”

  “Yes, sir. I assure you that any amount you deposit will be no problem for our bank. You know that we have over 250 branch offices in Switzerland and we operate in fifty countries.”

  “Fine! But I expect preferential treatment as long as I’m dealing with your bank. I want to be kept informed of any changes in interest rates and I want the luxury of being able to move my money in and out of any account, in any of your branches if the need arises. Will this be a problem, Mr. Lenoire?”

  “No, not at all. I will keep you informed of any interest rate fluctuations. And you certainly are entitled to deposit, transfer, or withdraw any amount of money you wish, in any of our branch offices whenever you need to.”

  “Good. Then I see no problem in doing business with you.” Mr. Christo left the bank. Mr. Lenoire couldn’t believe that with this one deposit, he just added a billion dollars to his bank’s net worth.

  John remained in Europe. He stayed at the finest hotels and ate at the best restaurants. He bought his clothes in Italy, in a little store in Florence, where the proprietor gave him the address of his grandson’s store in Manhattan. John took elocution lessons to learn how to properly comport himself when amongst society or royalty. His wealth opened doors that would have remained closed to others and his hunger to learn gave him the confidence he lacked growing up.

  John had not seen Virginia or her father for over seven years. He was three months shy of his twenty eighth birthday and the sides of his hair were beginning to turn grey. He had grown a fashionable mustache and beard, and he was unrecognizable to anyone who had known him in the past. It was time to return to America and find out what happened to them.

  Persistent had been content with having one hundred million dollars to spend. He loved the desert and would never think of leaving it, so he did what all rich men who loved the desert did: he bought a little ranch near Death Valley. John had become good friends with him in the short time they knew one another and he promised him he’d spend some time with him when he returned from Europe.

  Persistent had taken Dutch Henry’s place in his life and he lessened the pain John felt at the loss of his friend. The first thing John did when he returned home, was to spend quality time with the old man.

  “My god, boy. You look wonderful. Whatever you were doing over in Europe, you should keep doing here, because it sure does agree with you.”

  John laughed. He felt good just being himself, and not having to pretend to be this other person. He spent a month with Persistent, but the time came when he knew he must leave. He had unfinished business to take care of.

  “I’ll see you soon, Persistent.”

  “You better, you young whipper-snapper. And if you need this old man for anything, you just call me and I’ll come running, you hear? Now, don’t you go forgettin’ who your friends are.”

  John smiled. He loved the old man. “Don’t worry, Persistent. You’re the only friend I have now, and I’ll never forget you. And don’t you worry. I’ll call you if I need you and if I call, you better come running, you hear?” John played with Persistent’s words, but he meant what he said. “Good bye, old friend. I’ll see you soon.”

  John hired a private jet and flew to Phoenix to visit Mr. Hayes to see how he was doing. When the limo pulled up in front of the Hayes Real Estate office, Mr. John Christo stepped out into the hot Arizona sun. He looked at his old office and sighed. So much water un
der the bridge, he thought. He opened the door and was surprised to see there was no one working there. The back door opened, and Mr. Hayes stepped out. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Yes, I was looking to purchase a piece of property and I heard that you were the man to see.”

  Hayes smiled sadly. “Once upon a time maybe, but not anymore.”

  “Why, what happened? Didn’t you have other offices?”

  “Yes. I had three in Mohave County and I opened an office in Flagstaff, but then things went wrong. But why am I telling you this? I’m sorry to bore you with my troubles.”

  “You’re not boring me at all, Mr. Hayes. I’m always interested in hearing anything you have to say.”

  “Why is that, Mr. Christo?”

  “I heard good things about you from others. Didn’t you used to have a young man who worked for you? I heard he just about ran this place.”

  “You heard right. You’re talking about John W. Hardin. The nicest young man I ever met, and it’s too bad because I loved him like a son.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Some land-grabbing monster took it all away from him and his mother. Then they used trumped-up charges to put him in jail so they could take his land away from him.”

  John’s ears perked up. He didn’t know any of this. “Well, wasn’t his land worthless? Why would they want worthless land?”

  “That’s just it. The land wasn’t worthless. They had an old mine on the property and that’s what those thieves wanted. They took the land and reopened the mine and before long, they hit the mother lode. They took billions of dollars in gold out of that mine and poor John and his mother didn’t see a dime of it.”