Garrett & Sunny: Sometimes Love is Funny
Page 28
Truf began by welcoming everyone and got off to a rolling start by telling the assembled media that if they stayed until the end, he and I would have a punch-up for them after we had dealt with our business. They all laughed.
Like hell we would...
Sophie and Sky handed out media-kits to all the reporters that spelled out what was about to happen within Plutarch Resources.
Sophie had gone through the company accounts and had identified $4.89 million dollars that had been fraudulently stolen by Felix Geyer, using various means. She had been able to trace $3.96 million spread over three bank accounts. One in Zürich, one in Singapore and one in Lichtenstein. The three accounts had been frozen by our legal representatives and processes were being put in place to return the funds to Plutarch Resources. Felix also had some real-estate assets that were being investigated.
Given the strength of our case regarding ownership of these funds a local bank had supplied bridging funds to the company of $2 million dollars. The fine of $1 million levied by the Environmental Protection Authority had already been paid, and an environmental cleanup company called "Only Green is Green" had been contracted to rid the billabong and mining sites of as much chemical residue as is currently scientifically possible. OGIG have quoted a locked in cost to Plutarch of $500,000.
The final item of our press release pertained to our Coal Seam Gas exploration. Truf became agitated when he made this part of the announcement. 'I'm a geologist and mining engineer, but over and above that I'm a human being, just like the rest of you. All of us alive on this planet have a care of duty to pass the place on to our kids and grandkids in a state that we should be proud of. A state that will allow them to all live healthy, prosperous lives - as we have.'
He looked around at his audience, then he continued, satisfied that they were still listening.
'Coal Seam Gas extraction is a difficult technological process that involves introducing risk to the nation's ground water that is buried well beneath the surface. This is a risk that we, the new managers of Plutarch Resources are not prepared to take - on our children's behalf. GSG requires a well casing, or pipe if you like, to be drilled into the ground. Numerous highly poisonous chemicals, as you have just been made aware of from the clean up we have to undertake at the billabong, are then pumped into the earth. This causes the underground seam of coal to fracture a long way below the surface. It's called fracking. That releases the gas which is pumped to the surface and collected. Is everyone up to speed with this process?'
Once again he surveyed his audience looking for signs that he was losing them.
'There are two main problems; fracking is like exploding a bomb, we can estimate the extent of damage, but just like a nuclear bomb has fallout, so does fracking and we cannot estimate where the resultant chemicals and gases will end up. Secondly, the well casing quite often passes straight through the layer of trapped ground water. I'm not going to bore you any more,' he paused and grinned, 'pardon that pun by the way, with any more technical brief. I'm just going to say one thing, and this is the reason we are withdrawing from Coal Seam Gas exploration: It is an engineering fact that over the working life of well casings, 50% of them... fail. Put simply, that is an unacceptable risk to that ground water and the lives and livelihoods of towns and farming communities all across this nation and our future generations - your children,' Truf deliberately and slowly pointed to everyone in the audience, 'and your friend's children.'
I couldn't believe it, but Truf's little speech got a round of applause. If they liked that, then they were going to love what was coming up.
'You may well think we have just committed financial suicide with that announcement. Plutarch shares are currently trading at just 2 cents each, which is arguably fair value for a company that drills holes and pours poison into the ground,' Truf smiled broadly at his audience but received only stunned glares back from his fellow shareholders. 'Plutarch's mining leases cover not only CSG exploration but also mineral exploration and with the help of the local aboriginal community we have begun some preliminary exploration of areas they have pinpointed to us. And the results are more than staggering. As a company executive I am legally forbidden to give false information that may effect the value of my companies shares. Instead I will show you something we have discovered and you can make up your own minds.'
Suddenly the side doors opened and four burly, armed security guards came into the room. They were wheeling a large stainless-steel trolley. It was covered in rocks. The men positioned the trolley under a special light and a cameraman moved over to film what lay on top. Six large screens were simultaneously turned on around the room and the camera zoomed in and began a slow pan of the rocks. There were gasps from the audience as some of them recognized what they were looking at when most of the rocks reflected back bright yellow flecks and lines of color.
'My God man, is that real?' someone shouted from amongst the crowd.
'Yes it is, sir,' Truf bellowed and laughed. 'For those of you who haven't worked it out those are quartz rocks and the yellow color that you can all clearly see is an element we call gold.'
'Good lord,' someone called out. 'They came from Plutarch Resources leaseholds?'
'They did indeed, and I can tell you that those rocks were collected by just three men in the space of about fifteen minutes.'
People were starting to stand to get a better view of the rocks, some even ventured to the edge of the stage but hard glares from the security guards kept them from coming closer.
As the audience collectively basked in the rich aura the sudden introduction of gold had created, Truf said loudly into the microphone, 'The original J.P. Morgan, who many consider a legend in the world of finance, once made a famous statement about the rocks you are looking at. He said, "Gold is money - Everything else is credit." Ladies and gentlemen, Plutarch Resources is going into the money making business.'
***
Within a week Plutarch shares were trading around $2 each. This guaranteed to make our jobs easier, as going from an exploration company to a mining company costs a huge amount of money. With investors keen to get on board we would be able to raise those funds by issuing more shares.
The weeks that followed brought a series of interesting developments.
Most notable was Ling Mein suing the Nixon Fund for $20 million. But our lawyers quickly got the problem dismissed. We had, after all, offered the shares back to him just after the bad news hit and included compensation, which he had rejected outright at the time.
Felix Geyer was released from hospital and placed straight into jail. He didn't collect $200. The Government have charged Felix with numerous offenses including fraud, Tax evasion, environmental vandalism, plus other company related offenses. They assured us that if Felix didn't get some decent jail time from those charges they would add common assault for his attack on Truf and if that wasn't enough then they would charge him with pool-table hogging. It seems the Australian authorities have quite a hard-on for Felix. His lawyers did manage to get him released on bail but he had to surrender his passport. Hopefully, the sneaky bastard doesn't have another one.
Plutarch's civil case against Felix for the return of the stolen funds was well advanced and our lawyers were confident a large proportion would be returned. Minus their fee which should take... I won't go there - I'm betting you already know what I was going to say.
Dr John Mackintime was offered a directorship in Plutarch Resources, and as an incentive to add his talents to the company, was offered an allocation of 250,000 options in Plutarch, exercisable any time within the next five years at 10 cents each. That meant he could exchange those options for full-priced shares at any stage within that time limit by paying $25,000. Not a bad deal when you consider the shares are worth about $500,000 at todays valuation and we haven't started mining yet. Ironically this was almost as much as Truf had paid the good doctor to part with his original share parcel a month or so back. He accepted the directorship.
The same option deal was presented to both Sky and Sophie. Both girls were keen to exercise their options and sell their shares immediately but Truf convinced them that in about three years time the company stood a good chance of producing at least $300 million worth of gold... every year for the foreseeable future, and the share price had a real chance of going a lot higher.
A certain doctor I know emailed me and thanked me for introducing him to the "pear" diet. His health was at least a million times better since he'd been on it, he told me. Who'da guessed?
Oscar Barrymore had accepted a job washing Bentleys at the local dealership. No, I'm joking. Oscar is still selling art all over the world. I should have asked for more money from him.
Warra's 67 paintings were placed in the hands of a reputable dealer in London and he had started to receive regular commission checks for large sums of money for the sales of those paintings.
He keeps them all in his bag in his hut.
Warra is without doubt the richest man in his part of Queensland. To celebrate his good fortune he bought each of his sons and daughters a second-hand caravan for their families to live in. Warra still prefers his hut. He also splashed out for a ten-seater van to get the kids to school. It is brown like all the family vehicles, but this one was actually painted brown. And only had 100,000 kilometers on the clock.
The whole point of this exercise was to protect the land that Warra and his tribe live on. So, with the CSG problem sorted I arranged some meetings with a few high level officials. I was able to secure a perpetual leasehold from the Government over an area of 20 square miles of the surrounding Crown Land for Warra's tribe to live on. My new found respect in the business world, as Chairman of a well known, and now respected company, opened many doors for me. I doubt I could have done that for Warra without the big head title.
Truf had explained that gold mining was just as dirty, in its own way, as CSG mining. We decided to run our mine as cleanly as possible. That made it more expensive to operate than other similar mines, but we could live with that. Our plan was to crush and mill the rock on-site and refine it as much as possible before the nasty chemicals, like cyanide, were required to extract the gold. That meant we needed to truck our concentrate about one hundred and fifty kilometers to an existing working gold processor. We negotiated a deal where we will pay all the refining costs and share a percentage of the profits with them.
By the way, we named the soon-to-be established gold mine "The Joey Nine".
Truf sold his business in London to his second-in-command partner and now spends most of his time in Australia - with his beautiful fiancée.
I troubled over Angela Spencer, Harry's daughter, for a long time. Needless to say she was pissed at not getting her hands on Harry's assets and money - and I was a little uncomfortable having it. I compromised and employed a private detective to check her out. He found that she wasn't doing drugs, but she drank a bit. It seems she had just had a pretty rotten time lately. Her problem with Harry was something personal that went a lot deeper and happened many years ago. A private matter that I instructed the detective to not delve any deeper into. Families- Can't live without 'em - Can't shoot 'em. The detective found out from neighbors that Angela had cried for days after Harry's death. That was the clincher for me. I assigned Harry's house over to her and all his other assets, except the house I had been renting, the one with the black horse Harry had been painting when his ladder and life came toppling down. I'll keep that as my London home and my connection with Harry. It is Sunny's home also, now.
Sunny and I are doing just fine. She's not only the biggest part of my life, she's the only part of it that matters. I think she likes me too. There is only one problem at the moment - she just told me she's late.
Women. Always rushing here or there...
Go figga!
THE END
Oh! If you haven't worked out the paradox yet, don't feel bad. Truf and Tim haven't either. Let me recap and explain: The three men paid $100 each for the room, totaling $300. The receptionist should have only charged $250 for the room so he takes the $50 back to them. Realizing he can't split the $50 three ways, he pockets $20 and gives each man back $10.
So each man paid $100 less the $10 refund, equals $90. Three x $90 = $270. The receptionist has $20 in his pocket. That comes to $290. Where is the missing $10?
The problem is that you're still stuck on the original $300. Once they pay it over, it no longer exists. All that exists now is the $50 to be refunded, and that is accounted for: 3 x $10 to the men, and $20 to the receptionist.
Job done.
keep reading...
A final word from the author.
I hope you enjoyed "Garrett & Sunny". If you did then I'm sure you will love "Buy Me a Dream" and its two sequels in the "Dreams" series. All three are light-hearted, fun loving, laugh-a-lot novels. "Womanhood" and "Kinky" are a little more edgy, especially Womanhood which has a fairly dramatic scene or two.
Cheers, Peter.
email: peterbutlerbooks@outlook.com
(I love to hear from my readers - no spamming... I promise)
www.peterbutler.net (a work in progress)
more...
If you love funny, intelligent, contemporary fiction with an addictive storyline then Buy Me a Dream is a must read. From the author of "Garrett & Sunny" comes the story of Mark and Sasha and their bumpy journey to fulfill their dreams. "Wow", says Marcus... "...blew me away", says Jason.
This is not your "done to death" cliche Hollywood story - "Buy Me a Dream" takes you behind the scenes of the music industry and explores the lives and loves of a small number of the people who make it happen. Sasha is a singer-songwriter and Mark is a recently unemployed talent manager, two talented people who bring their different talents together to see if magic can be created.
It is a standalone novel, but reader requests demanded sequels. The result: "Dream On" and "Life at the Top" are now also available. So, if you enjoy "Buy Me a Dream" you can take comfort in the knowledge that there is more for you to read about Mark and Sasha's lives. Trust me - stuff happens.
https://www.amazon.com/Buy-Me-Dream-Peter-Butler-ebook/dp/B01CO2M2T8/
The opening section of "Buy Me a Dream" for you to sample...
Buy Me a Dream
chapter
one
Monday 22nd. (late afternoon)
It had been the day-from-hell and I was doing the only logical thing to deal with it - getting drunk. But even that was going poorly. I was clinging to my third single-malt like it was some kind of life raft, which I guess it was in some respects, but the heat from my hand was rapidly melting the one remaining ice-cube, diluting its numbing power. I was alone by choice, sitting on a barstool at the bar of the Okay Corral. Upmarket? Yes, if you judge that by the prices they charge. Cheesy? Absolutely, the name alone is a clue. The bar is located in an expensive part of L.A. and it apparently specializes in catering for professional losers, judging by my observations of my fellow drinkers. I fitted in perfectly; expensive suit, tailored shirt, silk tie, five-hundred-dollar shoes, neat, recently trimmed hair, and the afterglow of a ten-hour old splash of overpriced eau-de-SomethingFrench lingering on my cheeks.
Kudos to the owners of this place for changing the spelling of O.K; the depth of their creativity is inspiring. I had never been here before and that was the very reason I had chosen this bar. Hiding in a crowd is only possible when you don't know most of the people in that crowd, or more correctly, they don't know you. My reasoning: less expensive bars frequently have a TV playing somewhere - and that was the last thing I needed, given that there was a better than even-money chance my neatly trimmed features, and some of my not-so-trimmed ones might suddenly appear on the screen. Up until today I would have welcomed and enjoyed that exposure, after-all a television appearance elevates a person's status amongst the general populace for some inexplicable reason. It might have something to do with you being a pseudo-invited guest in their living rooms and therefo
re somehow involved in their lives, a subject of conversation and available for judgment, without any right of reply. Given the quality of the crap they excrete out of their antennas these days, and the principal of guilt-by-association, I don't trust anyone who comes on the screen - a point I was probably proving to the masses at this very moment.
To amuse myself for the past half hour I'd been imagining what catastrophic event might have befallen my fellow drinkers to herd them into the Corral - it was way past the hour that the legendary shootout with Wyatt Earp supposedly happened, so a repeat of that seemed unlikely. My state of mind has put me in a place where I can only assume bad things happen to people. That is a mistake, I realize, and unfair to this wanna-be classy establishment, as being an awful person is clearly only a prerequisite for me to be in here having a brain-numbing drink... or ten.
I've staked my claim to a stool on the longer of the two arms of the L-shaped bar and I've been glancing repeatedly at an attractive woman propped up at the bar diagonally opposite me, partly because she is there in my peripheral vision but mainly because something about her is damn hot. I can't put my finger on exactly what it is though. To help my thinking along I decide to give her some history. This is a game I routinely play when I'm bored or lonely - taking a stranger's looks and combining them with the situation they are in, then filling in some details about their lives. She appears a little tense, perhaps wary even - I decide she's having trouble at work; maybe her boss is hitting on her. She looks lawyerly - classy, with expensive clothes, she clearly has great taste and color coordination, and I don't see gold or even a diamond on her left hand. I have trained my eyes well. I decide her problem must be one of her law firm's partners wanting some after-hours one-on-one activity from her. Anyone less than partner she looks more than capable of shooting down, just with those eyes. The very same eyes that I suddenly realize are focused on me. As I grasp that she is looking piercingly at me she seems to realize she is doing it also, and we both instantly turn away.