Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1)

by Randall Reneau

  “Why would the Pantelli family have an interest in Rosenburg? Hell, he was just a penny stock promoter from Vancouver. Doesn’t exactly make him unique.”

  “You mentioned he liked to gamble, especially in Vegas.”

  “Yes, word is he liked high-stakes craps.”

  “It could link him to the Pantelli family.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, we’ve suspected the Pantellis are the money behind the Comstock Casino in Vegas. But, we’ve never been able to prove it.”

  “Interesting. The pieces are starting to fall together. I’ll dig into Rosenburg’s Vegas trips. See where he gambled and how far in the hole he might have been.”

  “Sounds good. If Rosenburg was into the Pantellis, for some serious money, they may have sanctioned the hit.”

  Chapter 19

  Will and I flew up to Vancouver and met Jim Lee in the terminal. We grabbed a cab to downtown and went up to Wally’s office. Wally and Malcolm were waiting for us in the conference room.

  After a few cordialities, I called the meeting to order.

  “Gentlemen, I called this meeting because we have a serious problem.”

  “Don’t tell us you’ve lost the vein again.” Malcolm said, with a chuckle.

  “How’d you know we’d found it, Malcolm? We didn’t notify you.”

  “What do you mean?” Malcolm replied, the color draining from his face.

  “Malcolm, we know you contacted a large shareholder and told him we’d lost the vein. We also know this same shareholder shorted our stock a million shares. And he recently covered his short position when he found out we’d gotten back on the vein.”

  “That is preposterous!” Malcolm yelled.

  “Malcolm, we know this shareholder has someone on the inside at Mineral Valley Labs. I’ve contacted the lab, and they’re seizing all employee’s’ computers and reviewing all e-mails sent from the lab or from their personal computers. It’s just a matter of time until we find the leak.”

  Malcolm looked stunned but remained silent.

  “Here’s the deal, Malcolm. I want your resignation now or we turn over all our findings over to the Canadian Securities Commission. And as we believe the shareholder you disclosed insider information to is an American, we’ll do likewise with the SEC and the FBI. It’s up to you, Malcolm. What’s it going to be?”

  Malcolm looked at each of the other directors in the conference room and then stared out across the harbor for a long moment.

  “Done. You’ll have my resignation within the hour. If you gentlemen will excuse me.”

  Malcolm rose and walked out of the conference room.

  “I bet he’s already on his cell to Cyrus,” Will said, grimacing and shaking his head.

  “Could be,” I said. “I know he’s on the top of my to-call list.”

  As I had the remaining board members in one room, I covered a few items with regard to the winter drilling program. I also informed them that from now on, all assays would come directly from the owner and manager of Mineral Valley Labs. Until the person selling our data was identified, only the owner would have access to our assay results. We’d also be getting a 20 percent discount on any future assays.

  Will was right about the phone call.

  “Cyrus, Malcolm here. We’ve got a problem.”

  “What now, Malcolm?”

  “I just tendered my resignation to Montana Creek Mining’s board.”

  “Why in the hell would you do that?”

  “Because, Cyrus, they know everything. They know I called you when they lost the vein. They know it had to be you shorting the stock, and they know you’ve got someone on the inside at the lab. It was either resign or they would turn everything over to the CSC, SEC, and the FBI.”

  “Okay, don’t panic. You did the right thing. They obviously don’t want their shareholders, or the investment community, to get wind of the situation. Otherwise, they’d have gone straight to the authorities. Bad news is, you’re off their board. Good news is, I made two hundred grand on the short sale, and Twisp River and Carib still own seventeen-plus percent of their company. And best news, they’re back in ore. We took a shot and we fucked up. But we’re still in the game, big time.”

  “What about my reputation?”

  Cyrus laughed. “What reputation? You work for Cyrus the Virus, remember?”

  Before Will, Jim, and I left Wally’s office, I called Cyrus at his Spokane office.

  “Cyrus, it’s Trace Brandon. I’m in Vancouver but headed back to Ellensburg via Spokane. If you got some time tomorrow, I’d like to have a quick meeting with you.”

  “Sure, Trace. How about eleven at my office? I’m on the sixth floor of the Inland Empire Building.”

  “I know it well. See you at eleven.”

  Will wanted to come along, but I asked him to let me meet Cyrus one-on-one. I’d developed a bit of a relationship with Cyrus over the past months and while in the Caymans. He played hard-ball and mainly by his own rules. But I sensed I could deal with him.

  At eleven sharp I entered the lobby of one of Spokane’s architectural jewels, the Inland Empire Building. The office building was built in a V-shape with the sharp end of the V truncated to form corner offices. Naturally, Cyrus’s office was on the sixth floor. Top of the V.

  The sign on the door said Columbia Resources LLC. I opened the door and walked in. Cyrus was talking to his secretary and turned to greet me.

  “Trace, good to see you again,” Cyrus said, extending his hand. “This is Sally Friesen, my office manager.”

  I shook hands with Cyrus and then Sally.

  “Let’s go into my office,” Cyrus said, patting me on the shoulder. “Can we get you anything?”

  “Bottled water would be great,” I replied.

  “Sally, would you mind?” Cyrus asked.

  Sally fetched me a chilled Cascadia, and I followed Cyrus into his office. His office was as I expected . . . plush.

  “Cyrus, I asked for this meeting because I knew you and I could level with each other.”

  “Fair enough. What’s on your mind?”

  “I expect you already know this, but I kicked Malcolm off our board.”

  Cyrus’s eye’s didn’t even flicker.

  “Yes, Malcolm called me. It’s an unfortunate affair.”

  “Cyrus, I don’t have a problem with you or anybody else making money off our shares. Hell, if you’re smart enough and have the balls to short a stock and make some cash, more power to you. But I do object when you use insider information from one of our directors to do it.”

  “That’s a pretty strong charge, Trace.”

  “Look, all bullshit aside, we both know what went down. You made some money, Malcolm paid the price, and we all move forward. Currently, your companies own more than seventeen percent of Montana Creek Mining. Judging from all the mining deals you’ve been involved with,” I said, gesturing to the photos of various mining projects on his office walls, “you’re smart enough and experienced enough to know a good deal when you see it.”

  “And your point is?”

  “My point is, get on the damn team. Work with us on building this company. Hell, you’ll make millions on your shares, and you won’t end up like Thorny.”

  “Are you threatening me, Trace?”

  “Not at all. If I wanted a piece of your ass, I’d be at the SEC right now instead of here in your office. Hell, you came up through the mines and used your brains and guts to get to where you are now. Not unlike what I’m trying to do. I’m just saying, there’s a better way to do this. We can all come out ahead, and you won’t be looking over your shoulder the rest of your life.”

  “I appreciate your candor and the fact you have the balls to come to me like this. And I appreciate you’re not running to the damn regulators. Not that you could prove any of this. But it’s how I would have handled it, if our roles were reversed.”

  “Okay, so we’re in agreement? You’re on board?”

>   “I hate to admit it, but I’ve grown kind of fond of you, Trace. You remind me of me when I was starting out, and not so jaded. Okay, Trace. Let’s declare a truce. No more dirty tricks on my end, and I’ll vote my shares and proxies in the best interest of Montana Creek Mining.”

  “So, I could say I have your word on it?”

  “Yes, you could say you have my word.”

  I extended my right hand, and we shook hands.

  “By the way, Cyrus, you remind me a lot of my dad. He was a cantankerous, hard-headed SOB, but he always made money for his partners.”

  Cyrus laughed. “Very good, Trace. I think we’ll leave it at that.”

  I smiled at Cyrus, and got up to leave.

  “Oh, there is one more thing you should know, Cyrus. Your contact at Mineral Valley Labs is kaput. Save your money. You’ll get the assay results same time as the other shareholders.”

  “I, of course, have no idea what you’re referring to. But I do look forward to timely progress reports.”

  When I got back to my office in Ellensburg, I contacted the other directors and told them we wouldn’t have any more problems with Cyrus. About ten minutes after the call ended, Wally called me back.

  “Trace, I didn’t want to spook Jim Lee, but I heard some interesting news.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Remember the papers up here saying Rosenburg died of a stroke or seizure?”

  “Yep, I guess the guilt over popping Thornton got to him.”

  “Not quite. A contact of mine in the constable’s office says it was a professional hit. And get this, Rosenburg was killed with some kind of nerve agent.”

  “What?

  “You heard me right. Some kind of toxin supposedly only the militaries have.”

  “Jesus, we have shareholders shooting shareholders, and now we have a pro killing them too? What in the hell is going on?”

  “Damn good question, Trace. I’d say Rosenburg pissed off some very bad individuals.”

  “You think the casino boys wanted more than just his shares?”

  “Who else could pull off a hit like that, besides a government?”

  “A guy like Rosenburg would have enemies from stock deals gone south. But I don’t see any way a government would be involved. To me, it smells like he seriously pissed off someone in the Outfit.”

  “The Outfit?”

  “It’s what Al Capone used to call the mob.”

  “Jesus, I can’t wait for our next shareholders meeting. Could be some interesting characters in attendance.”

  Chapter 20

  Cyrus asked Malcolm to come down to the Spokane office. He wanted him to go through all of Thorny’s business files. Cyrus told him to pull anything of interest, and shred anything that might be sensitive.

  Malcolm was embarrassed and mad about being unceremoniously dumped from Montana Creek’s board. He’d taken the hit while Cyrus had skated, and pocketed two hundred grand on the short sale. And to add insult to injury, he hadn’t even offered to split the short-sale profit.

  Digging through the files, an expense report for a trip Thorny had made to New Orleans caught Malcolm’s eye. Checking through phone bills, he located several calls Thorny had made to New Orleans. All to the same number. He knew Cyrus had sent Thorny to New Orleans to meet with Al Pantelli. It was worth a shot.

  “Mr. Pantelli please,” Malcolm said to the secretary who answered his call.

  “Which Mr. Pantelli, sir?”

  “Al . . . Al Pantelli, please,” Malcolm replied, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

  “Yes, sir. One minute please.”

  “Al, here. Who’s this?”

  “Mr. Pantelli, this is Malcolm Trueblood. I run Twisp River Resources here in Vancouver, Canada, for Cyrus McSweeny.”

  Al’s interest immediately peaked. “Sure, Malcolm, I know who you are. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, sir, as you may know, both you and Twisp River are shareholders in Montana Creek Mining.”

  “Yes, we own about half a million shares. And as you may know, Cyrus has our proxy to vote those shares for the next three years.”

  “Yes, I do know that. He can vote your shares as long as he’s alive. Upon his death the voting rights would revert to you. Correct?”

  “Correct. Are you calling on a cell or from a land-line?”

  “Land-line, sir.”

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  “Twisp River Resources took down a good chunk of the original private placement, which came with warrants attached. We exercised the warrants when the stock got to a dollar.”

  “Go on,” Al said.

  “As CEO of Twisp River Resources, I vote our shares. But as Twisp River is controlled by Carib International, that is to say, by Cyrus, I vote as instructed.”

  “I’m still listening, Malcolm.”

  “Well, I just thought, as both of us have a significant investment in Montana Creek Mining, and its future, it might make sense for us to meet and discuss our common interests.”

  Al’s brother Pino opened Al’s office door and stuck his head in. Al put his left index finger to his lips and motioned for him to come in and take a seat.

  “Okay, Malcolm. I don’t see what meeting and discussing our mutual interests could hurt,” Al said, looking at Pino and raising his eyebrows. “Tell you what. My brother, Crispino, and I will be in Vegas the day after tomorrow. We keep an office in the Comstock Casino. Why don’t you meet us there?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pantelli. I’ll see you there. And, sir, I assume this conversation is in confidence?”

  “All my conversations are in confidence. See you in two days.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” Pino asked, after Al hung up.

  “Sounded to me like the guy who runs one of Cyrus’s companies wants a change in management. And there could be a lot of Montana Creek shares involved.”

  Chapter 21

  Drilling was moving ahead at the Sullivan Mine. Each new drill hole extended the length of orebody and added additional reserves. I’d gotten the name of Twisp River’s engineering firm from Malcolm before we’d lowered the boom on him. I put a call in to the firm’s office in Vancouver. A young, very sexy- sounding gal answered the phone.

  “Charter Engineering, may I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, this is Trace Brandon with Montana Creek Mining. Could I speak to Gerald Smyth please?”

  I heard the phone click, and then Smyth picked up.

  “Jerry here.”

  “Mr. Smyth, this is Trace Brandon with Montana Creek Mining down in Ellensburg, Washington.”

  “Yes, Trace. Malcolm Trueblood said you might be calling. And please, call me Jerry.”

  “Okay, Jerry. Listen, we need a full-blown independent engineering report completed on our Sullivan Mine property. As you may know, we’re up and trading and need to file a reserve report based on our drilling results to date.”

  “How soon would you like us to start?”

  “Well, there’s a hell of a lot of snow on the ground at the mine. But we’re drilling away. We’ve got a lot of split core stored in a heated warehouse in Winthrop. And of course we’ve got all the core assays.”

  “Okay. Are there underground workings?”

  “Yes, there’s two levels, but only the upper adit is accessible. The lower workings are flooded. But you can map the rock types and the vein to the end of the upper adit.”

  “Perfect. As you know, Trace, we have to physically be on-site, inspect the geology, drilling, cores, and assay results. Plus, we’ll also need to take a few confirmation core samples. Following which, we’ll prepare a report for your review prior to submission to the VSE.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Can you put together a cost proposal and e-mail it down to me. I’ll go over your proposal with the board and get back to you.”

  “You’ll have something tomorrow morning. We look forward to working with you and with Malcolm again.”

  “Ah, Malcolm is
no longer on our board. He’s resigned for personal reasons. But his company, Twisp River Resources, remains a significant shareholder.”

  “I am sorry to hear that. I hope his problems aren’t too serious.”

  “No, just some personal matters requiring more of his attention,” I replied, envisioning Malcolm doing five years in the big house, without a shower.

  Chapter 22

  I received the engineering report proposal from Charter Engineering and reviewed it with Wally, Will, and Jim. The costs were as expected, and we all agreed to proceed. I contacted Gerald Smyth and arranged to meet him in Winthrop. From there we’d take him up to the Sullivan Mine. Jim Lee asked to be present as well.

  I arranged to pick Jim up at the Spokane airport. We’d drive up together in my Bronco. Jerry was driving down from Vancouver in a four-wheel-drive Suburban crammed full of field and sampling gear. He’d meet us at the Winthrop House.

  Jim was standing in front of the Spokane terminal when I drove up.

  “Good flight, Jim?” I asked, while he stowed his gear in the back of the Bronco.

  “Yep, no worries, mate. Smooth as a McGuire Sister’s’ harmony. So tell me about your meeting with Cyrus.”

  “Well, he’s smart enough to know we could rock his boat pretty damn hard if he didn’t shape up. He’s also smart enough to know we don’t want any kind of bad news, like lawsuits or SEC investigations. I’m convinced he’ll play ball. It’s in his best interest.”

  “You’re right, of course. It’s a slippery slope once problems like Cyrus and Malcolm’s activities are made public. The investment community is a fickle beast and could just as easily turn against Montana Creek Mining as Cyrus.”

  “Agreed. From my point of view the most important thing we can do now is concentrate on drilling out reserves. Get the engineering report completed, and get listed on the Toronto Exchange.”

  “Couldn’t agree more, mate.”

  Jim and I were having a beer in the W’s bar around 7:00 p.m. when a character right out of Alan Quartermain walked in. This individual was decked out in bloused khakis tucked into leather boots that laced to just below the knees. He had on an olive- drab army winter field jacket with pencils, pens, and small notebooks stuffed in every pocket. A bright-red wool scarf was wrapped around his neck. His open jacket exposed what could pass for a Bowie knife hooked to his belt. He looked to be in his fifties, about five feet eight, heavy-set with a ruddy complexion and a bald head. To compensate for the lack of cranial hair, he sported a magnificent salt-and-pepper beard.