Greed

by D Thomas Jewett

  “But what if we can’t roll over our short positions?”

  “Oh, you can always roll them over. Just sell more shorts into the market until you flush out the weak hands – lots of people will sell when the price falls.” Charles leaned back in his chair. “And if that doesn't work, we'll have the regulators raise the margin[16] requirements – then prices will drop like a stone.”

  Josh frowned. “This sounds like there’s no compromise on keeping the prices down.”

  Charles leaned back, watching wisps of his cigar smoke float into the air. “Let me make it perfectly clear, Josh. The powers that be have decided to drive inflation of the dollar while maintaining the public perception that the dollar is strong. One of the most important ways to maintain this perception is to keep the price of metals low. In short, we’ve been ordered to keep metals’ prices at the current price range, if not drive them lower. And we are to keep this pressure on for the foreseeable future.”

  Charles drew from his cigar and watched the smoke as he exhaled. “No one knows for sure; but we think they’re looking to create a new world currency – and they need to kill the dollar to do it.” He paused and tellingly looked at Josh. “A brave new world is coming, and we get to be a big part of it.”

  Josh was actually not surprised. He had noticed that his contact at the Federal Reserve usually flagged him at just about the time the Fed was pumping more money. So he knew there was a larger plan in the works.

  A smirk formed on Charles’ face. And then he said, “So please continue to coordinate with the Fed when you ‘manage prices’.”

  The room became silent as Josh pondered what he was hearing. And then he said, “These large short positions will draw a lot of attention. I take it we need not be concerned about regulators checking our transactions?”

  “The bloody regulators are of no consequence whatsoever.” Charles leaned back and exhaled cigar smoke into the air. “We’ve paid them off – lock, stock, and barrel.”

  “Okay.” Josh smiled. He was enjoying his cigar; but he wasn’t sure about the conversation. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “Just one other thing,” Charles was shaking his finger at Josh. “Silver. Someday, silver is going to be a real problem for us.”

  “Why?”

  Charles’ voice quivered. “Because there’ll be much more gold than silver above ground. I’d say we’ll be seeing this in just a few more years.”

  Josh had never really considered this before; but it was a fact that silver was being used up at a faster rate than new silver was being mined. Charles is right. This will certainly be a problem, but it can also be an opportunity!

  Charles smiled and then said, “So what do you think?”

  “What do I think?” Josh grinned. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  * * * * *

  That evening, Josh went on another date, with yet another woman ...

  “Oh, baby!” Her voice oozed with pleasure. “I love the way you touch me. I love the way you stroke me. And I really like what you do to me!”

  Josh looked down at Marcia; her tongue running along her lips as though she was about to eat him. But she never did, he mused.

  Blimey. Why is it that so many women find it hard to initiate – to be the dominant partner? God help me but I love being tied. I love being teased. I love it when a woman uses me, Josh ruminated as they got it on. But Marcia, all she wants is basic service. God help me; how damn boring could it be!

  Josh finished and collapsed on top of Marcia. It was so-so, but it would do.

  “Oh, baby,” she whispered, “are you okay?”

  Josh nodded. He laid on top of her for a minute, kissing her. And then he rolled off; looking up at the mirrored ceiling hanging over the bed – gazing at their reflection.

  Josh liked his ceiling. In fact, he liked his condo. He had wanted an estate out in the country, but with his London job, he knew he would seldom make it home. So he paid a hefty sum for a condo near work. It came with all of the luxuries: maid and butler service, plush furnishings and appointments, expansive rooms, and plenty of bedroom space for his particular style of toys.

  “Josh, what's that?” Marcia said, pointing to a particular wooden rack.

  “Oh, nothing dear,” Josh responded.

  Josh thought back to his time with Cheryl. She loved tying him up on the rack and abusing his body. She would use him for several hours; all the while getting herself off. And then finally, she would bring him to a mind-blowing organism.

  How did I ever let her go?

  Chapter 13 – Circa 1999

  “Blimey!” Dave’s eyes were big. “Did you see gold and silver?”

  “Of course,” Josh replied. “We trade in it every day.”

  “I know – but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Oh? Then what, pray tell, are you talking about?”

  “The volume.” Dave’s eyes widened.

  “Volume? Hmmm ... you mean the volume of gold and silver traded?”

  “Yes. Did you notice it’s way up?” Dave replied.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s been amazing!” Dave continued. “What do you think is causing it?”

  Josh turned, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and looked out his office windows at the financial district. “Well, I think that people are afraid of Y2K and they’re hoarding gold and silver.”

  “Y2K? ... Oh yeah, I remember that computer programmer guy down the hall talking about it. He said we might have widespread computer failures and food shortages and petrol shortages. Blimey! He just went on and on like the end of the world was coming!”

  “That’s right,” Josh replied. Some people believe it’s coming, and they’re stocking up on food and petrol. And some of the people are hoarding gold and silver too.”

  “What do you think about Y2K? Do you think it’s real?” Dave asked.

  “I don’t know.” Josh shrugged. “I suppose it could happen.”

  “But regardless,” Josh continued, “Y2K is perceived to be an issue. Clearly, if we are to keep the price of gold and silver down during the Y2K period, we will need to sell more shorts over the next few months.”

  Dave thought he noticed Stephanie peeking around the office door, but he continued his conversation. “Are we leasing more from the central banks?”

  “No. I checked with Thad at the Fed yesterday. It seems we’re on our own for the time being.” Josh sighed. “We’ll just need to sell some naked shorts and hope that we can roll them over.”

  “But isn’t it illegal to sell gold we don’t possess?”

  Josh’s patience was wearing thin. “No. It’s perfectly legal, Dave. It’s only illegal if we fail to return it to the leaser. We’ll make sure to buy it back when the time comes.”

  “But, what if we have to pay a higher price to buy it back? If that happens, then our profitability will suffer.”

  “Well,” Josh shrugged, “we’ll just sell more shorts to drive the price further down.”

  And then he gave Dave a condescending look. “You worry too much, Dave.”

  Dave’s expression became quizzical. “You know, this sure seems like we’re manipulating the market. I looked at the CFTC rules yesterday. Do you know what it says? It says that manipulating the market is a criminal offense.”

  Dave's lips became tight, his face drawn. “Blimey – we’re breaking the law here.”

  Dave could swear he’d seen Stephanie out in the hall, peeking around the door.

  Josh turned and looked directly at Dave. “Seriously, Dave, everything is on the up and up. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

  * * *

  It was closing time at the office after one of those tough days. Bantering back and forth, Dave and Mike made their way to the MoonDancer. Dave pulled open the ornate door and they stepped inside. Standing in the entrance, they took in as much of the crowded room as they could see. The pub was loud and noisy – everyone talking and shouting
over everyone else. And with standing room only, groups of people collected together – laughing and socializing.

  Dave shouted at Mike. “What a crowd! What’s the occasion?”

  Mike shouted back. “I don’t know.”

  “Hey, look,” Mike motioned out to the middle of the room. “There’s Stephanie and Natalie over there.”

  Dave shouted, “all right! Let’s go on over and talk.”

  Dave and Mike made their way through the crowd.

  Natalie’s eyes sparkled when she saw their approach. “Alright guys!”

  Mike smiled at Natalie as he spoke. “So, what’s with the big crowd?”

  Stephanie and Natalie both shrugged their shoulders. And then Stephanie shouted, “Everyone is looking for a good time!” She paused as she looked at the two. “I didn’t see you at work today. What’s going on?”

  Dave shouted his reply. “We were working on our gold short positions today – we had to short a lot of gold without having it covered.”

  Mike chimed in with a shout. “The gold price was really strong yesterday. I thought we lost control. But all we had to do was sell a few hundred more contracts short, and the price tumbled.”

  “Hell,” Mike went on, “to see it drop that fast ... I guess there’s a lot of leverage out there!”

  “Hear, hear!” Dave held up his mug for a toast. Stephanie, Natalie, and Mike all saluted, and then they gulped in celebration.

  Just then, the man standing behind Natalie turned, glared at them, and started shouting. “So you’re the bastards manipulating the gold, are ya? Just last week, my mother bought gold on margin; and today she had to liquidate all of it – she lost thousands of pounds.” The man continued with a sneer. “How’s it feel to be robbing little old ladies of their life’s savings?”

  The man glowered at Mike. But Mike turned away from the man – ignoring him.

  The man stormed forward in a fit of rage. He grabbed Mike by the shoulder and spun him around. Mike shouted his surprise, “what the –” but was interrupted by the man’s left hook against his jaw, knocking him to the floor.

  Mike stayed on the floor, massaging his jaw as he looked up at the man. The man was glowering over Mike. “You sonofabitch! I oughtta kill ya!” He spat.

  The man turned to walk away. But then he shouted “Aw shit” as he spun around and launched his foot, kicking Mike in the head and knocking him unconscious.

  The man glared at all of them. Then he turned and made his way through the crowd toward the entrance.

  Mike's friends crowded around. Soon, Mike lifted himself off the deck, holding and rubbing his chin and the side of his head. “Blimey! Why do you suppose he did that?” Mike said as he was rubbing the huge welt rising on the side of his face.

  “Because he thinks we're stealing from old people,” Dave replied. Dave turned and looked to the entrance where the man just departed. “And maybe he's right.”

  “What do you mean by that, Dave?” Stephanie asked.

  “What I mean is that maybe someone has to stand up and report what we're doing to the authorities.”

  * * * * *

  A few days later . . .

  Josh watched as the pallbearers pulled the casket out of the limousine. Carefully, slowly, they carried the casket as they merged with the procession – a procession made up of Dave's family, his loved ones, his co-workers, and his friends. They proceeded carefully over the uneven turf; moving ever closer to the grave site that Dave's family had selected.

  There were three stout 4 x 4 posts laid on the ground, crossing over the grave. The pallbearers set the casket down on the posts; directly above the freshly dug grave. Then, a Presbyterian minister stepped forward and began the service.

  “David is loved, truly. We all miss him. We all loved him. And we all appreciated his presence, his energy, his exuberance, and his friendliness. David was always there to help others. And he always lived his life by the highest ethical standards. His friend, Clarence, told me of a time that he and David ...” Amid tears, sobs, and an occasional cough, the eulogy went on.

  Feeling his sorrow, and feeling the sorrow of others who were sobbing, Josh watched and listened as the service continued. And when the eulogy ended, he watched as the pallbearers placed three strands of rope underneath the casket, and lifted the casket with the ropes. Another aide removed the posts; and then the pallbearers slowly lowered the casket. When the casket reached the bottom, the pallbearers tossed the ropes into the grave.

  With red eyes and red streaks from her tears, David's mother came forth, throwing a handful of dirt onto the casket. A procession formed, each person in turn throwing dirt onto the casket. Josh and his staff joined the procession; so that they too could say goodbye.

  * * *

  Making his way to the parking lot, Josh caught up to Stephanie and fell in step with her. They walked together on the uneven terrain

  Josh’s face was glum. He had tried to understand Dave's death, but he didn't know how he could – Dave's death seems so senseless, he thought. “So,” he asked Stephanie, “what really happened?”

  Stephanie recounted the story as they walked. “We went out for drinks last Friday night. You know – the MoonDancer – the same place we always go? While we were there, a man came out of nowhere. He hit Mike and then kicked Mike in the head. And then the man left the pub.” Stephanie paused, holding back her grief. “Soon after, we all split up to make our way home. It was the next morning that I received a call from the police; they wanted to know who might have killed Dave. The only person I could think of was that man; the man who hit Mike. So I gave them a description.”

  “The police asked me if I'd seen the man holding or packing a gun.” She shook her head. “But I didn't, and I told them so.”

  Stephanie stopped and looked Josh in the eyes. “And that's what I know.”

  Josh took Stephanie's hand and brought her close to him. They embraced, both of them shedding tears. Finally, Josh and Stephanie let go; and they continued their walk together without speaking. Stephanie reached her car first. She stood and watched as Josh continued on toward his own car. She continued to stand, and they waved to each other as Josh drove off.

  Josh mulled over the events of the past week, still not understanding. He reflected that there was much he didn't know. Why? Why?

  But were he more of a gentleman, he might have solved Dave's murder. A gentleman would have stopped at Stephanie's car, and opened the door for her. A gentleman would then have helped her into the car. And then, a gentleman might have noticed the butt of a pistol protruding from underneath the towel – the towel that lay across the passenger's seat.

  But Josh was not always a gentleman, and so he never did learn why Dave was slain.

  Chapter 14

  Bill and Brandy spent considerable time searching for ‘just the right place’ to call home. They looked at many different parts of Idaho, and finally settled on a 40-acre parcel with an older-style farmhouse up in the panhandle. The parcel was multipurpose – some parts were forested, and some parts were flat grassland. Land such as this would allow them to farm, harvest wood, or keep livestock.

  Bill was excited. He was born and raised in the Sandpoint area, and he was coming home! He liked Arizona, but he hated the summertime heat. So for Bill, the change was welcome.

  A native of Dallas and a lover of the desert southwest, this was Brandy's first experience in the Northwest – and she was instantly taken with her new home. She fell in love with the forest, and she was breathless when she spied the meadow of grass tapering into the distant tree line. Then she was drawn to the homestead area; a quaint rustic farmhouse with a nearby shop (or was it a barn?) nestled in a stand of ponderosa pine, red fir, and western larch. The farmhouse beckoned to her with its steep gabled roof, angled dormers, and brown clapboard siding. Inviting her inside was a covered porch obscured by two trees.

  Their move from Arizona went quickly. Brandy’s townhome was a rental; and it was easy for her
to let go. Bill owned a home that he acquired from his two-year-old divorce. He put it on the market even as he moved to Idaho; believing that it would sell quickly – it did.

  Initially, Bill thought they should buy the necessary equipment to set up their own mint. But they soon realized the enormity of the project; and so, they began searching out an independent mint to help with their newly-formed business. The mint they chose was The Golden Mint located in nearby Missoula, Montana. They had an initial telephone conversation with Murray Hofstadler, the chief engraver, and found he was very receptive to Bill’s design ideas. Bill and Brandy sent a letter to Murray detailing their initial concept of the Freedom Dollar.

  Dear Mr. Hofstadler,

  Brandy and I fully enjoyed talking with you about our project; and we enjoyed listening to your ideas. Your experience and expertise could be a big help toward getting us started.

  Following is a description of two coins we’d like to manufacture: The Twenty Dollar Silver Freedom coin; and the One-thousand Dollar Gold Freedom coin.

  The Twenty Freedom Dollar silver round consists of 1 troy ounce of .999 fine silver with a reeded edge. The obverse is a picture of Liberty in a chain-mail tunic and holding a sword above her head. A legend at the top says ‘Twenty Freedom Dollars’. To the right of the Liberty picture, it says ‘20’. The year of minting is at the bottom of the obverse. The reverse is a rendering of an eagle in flight, feathers are detailed and prominent. A legend at the bottom of the reverse says ‘Trust God’. A legend at the top says ‘Twenty Freedom Dollars’. The denomination of this coin is Twenty Freedom Dollars.

  The One-thousand Freedom Dollar gold round consists of 1 troy ounce of .999 fine gold with a reeded edge. The obverse is a picture of Liberty in a flowing tunic, and holding a sword above her head. A legend at the top says ‘One Thousand Freedom Dollars’. To the right of the Liberty picture, it says ‘1,000’. The year of minting is at the bottom of the obverse. The reverse is a rendering of an eagle standing proudly on a tree branch, feathers are detailed and prominent. A legend at the bottom of the reverse says ‘Trust God’. A legend at the top says ‘One Thousand Freedom Dollars’. The denomination of this coin is One Thousand Freedom Dollars.