by Joe Corso
McCormack nodded. He liked the direction this conversation was heading in. “You said we’d kill two birds with one stone. What’s the second bird?”
“We take over the real estate company. Hayes has the largest real estate company in Mohave County and now he’s expanding into Coconino County. He must be bringing in millions of dollars a year. Of course, if you don’t want to bother with his real estate business, we can forget about that part, and just go after the boy and his mother.”
“No. No. I like the real estate business. I never thought of owning one. I think it’s a great idea . . . Go ahead. Keep talking.” McCormack’s fertile mind was firing on all eight cylinders now. By taking over Hayes Real Estate Company, he could bypass paying real estate commissions because he’d own the properties. And he could then negotiate the price of the property with any mine his company discovered or represented, because he’d control the real estate company that was offering it to the buyer. “I like it. It’s brilliant. But how do you intend to get rid of the kid? I prefer we don’t harm him if it can be helped.”
“Don’t worry. Nothing like that is going to happen. That’s why I asked you if you still have the Governor in your pocket. I’ll tip the police that there is a large amount of drugs stashed in his car and in his home or better yet, in the old mine. Once they discover the drugs and he’s arrested, the papers will eat it up. They love when a drug kingpin is caught and put away behind bars. I’ll make sure that everyone is convinced the boy is dealing drugs big time, and I’ll let them know that his specialty is selling drugs to kids. Once the kid’s put away, the old lady won’t be able to hold on to the property without her son’s income. And, if we take over Hayes’s business, then he won’t be able to help her either. She’ll have no choice but to sell to us.”
McCormack nodded as he took a puff on his cigar and then slowly let the smoke out. “How much do you think we can get her property for when this is all said and done?”
“Look - we can probably get it for nothing, but I think it’s a good idea if you acted the part of the benevolent buyer who was very saddened by the old lady’s misfortune, and you’ve decided that someone should help the poor woman. I know a place high up in the Grand Canyon Subdivision, situated between Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon, where she’ll live in the mobile home you’re gonna buy her, and she’ll be far enough away from here that she’ll trouble no one. I’ll see to it that the papers make a big deal out of your generosity. The home will cost you practically nothing, and to sweeten the deal I suggest you give her a cash settlement as well. Think of how that will look in the papers - and what you’ll spend on her will be nothing compared to the gold you’ll take out of her old mine. When the story breaks in the papers of how you helped an old widowed woman . . . in the eyes of the rest of the country, you’ll be a hero.”
McCormack brushed ashes from his cigar into the ashtray. “I like it. It’s perfect and you’re right. We will be killing two birds with one stone. Get right on it. Hire that friend of yours and make sure he gets the job. I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but make sure it gets done just the way you explained it to me.”
CHAPTER THREE
John was showing a property in a new development in Mohave County. The property abutted Yavapai County in the little triangular part that’s between the three adjacent Counties. It was so close to the three counties, you could practically put your foot onto both Coconino and Yavapai Counties and still be in Mohave County. At approximately the same time that John W was showing the customer the property, Mr. Hayes had just finished interviewing all but one of the applicants for the Flagstaff manager’s position. His last applicant, Ronald Johnson, presented Hayes with a letter of recommendation from a Mr. Wicks, his last employer and the owner of a large real estate office in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Johnson had managed that office and he just moved to Flagstaff. He was looking for work, preferably in another real estate office. Johnson was Hayes’s choice for the position except for one other applicant which he still had to interview. He told Johnson that he would be in touch.
“Hi. My name is Tom Jenkins and I’m applying for the manager’s job. I’m experienced in running a large office. Did it in Pennsylvania and New Orleans and if you give me a chance I’ll build this office into the largest office in the Flagstaff area.” The way Jenkins was spewing out words, Hayes didn’t have a chance to get a word in. “Tell you what,” Jenkins said. “I want this job so bad don’t pay me a dime. I’ll work on commission only. If I do well, then you can pay me what you feel I’m worth. If you’re not satisfied, then I’ll leave. Now what do you have to lose?”
Hayes looked at Jenkins differently and studied him a little closer. He wore a fine suit, plenty expensive; you could tell that right off. He wore an expensive Rolex and had on nice Italian shoes, polished to a spit shine. He had plenty of personality, that was for sure, and he was very confident in his ability to do the job. This was something Hayes hadn’t counted on. The last man he interviewed, he all but hired, and now he was having second thoughts. This man seemed perfect for the job, but so did the other man. Hayes compared the two men for a moment, and not paying Jenkins a salary was what made him decide to hire him over the other applicant. He decided to give Jenkins the job and if the other applicant were still available when he opened his next office, he’d offer him the manager’s position.
Hayes looked at Jenkins and said, “I like your background, Mr. Jenkins, but I can’t hire you until my manager interviews you.”
Jenkins’s temper flared briefly, but he brought it quickly under control. He faced Hayes with a questioning look on his face. “I thought you were the one who made the hiring and firing decisions, Mr. Hayes, and not your manager.”
Hayes didn’t like anyone questioning his hiring practices and the question took him by surprise. “That’s the way it is, Mr. Jenkins. If you find it hard to accept, then I suggest you look elsewhere for a job.”
Jenkins realized his mistake and quickly spoke to Hayes in a conciliatory manner. “I’m sorry for questioning you, Mr. Hayes. It’s just that I know I can do the job for you. I’m the best qualified man you interviewed all day. I just know I am. I wanted the job so badly that I got a little out of line, and I do apologize for it.”
His apology calmed Hayes down. “There’s no need for you to feel bad, Mr. Jenkins. I know how it is to want a job and maybe not get it. Just wait until my manager gets here. It’s just a formality, a part of our hiring policy. Come back tomorrow morning after 10:00 a.m., and we’ll have that final interview. Then we’ll talk about filling the position. Okay?”
Tom Jenkins rose from his chair and smiled. It was a con man’s smile, meant to disarm a potential mark and that was exactly what Mr. William Hayes was to him; just another mark. “Sure. It sounds great. I look forward to tomorrow morning’s interview with your manager. Until then, I bid you good day, Mr. Hayes.”
“Good day to you too, Mr. Jenkins.”
The following morning, Tom Jenkins sauntered into the office for his 10 a.m. interview, wearing a different suit, but the same spit-shined shoes he wore yesterday.
John W sized up the overdressed man immediately and he didn’t like what he saw. But, out of courtesy to Mr. Hayes, he continued with the interview. “I see that you waived the salary we were willing to pay you and instead agreed to work on commission, Mr. Jenkins. Why is that, I wonder?”
Jenkins just smiled that confident con man smile of his and said, “I have confidence in myself, John.” He purposely used John’s first name instead of his last. “Give me a chance to manage that office and I’ll bring in sales like you’ve never seen before. I’m not bragging; I’m speaking from experience.”
The interview wrapped up at 10:40 a.m. and Jenkins stood. “When can I expect your call to let me know when I can start work?”
“Easy there, Mr. Jenkins. No one said you had the job yet. We’ll call you if we’re interested.”
Jenkins smiled, showing a set of perfect w
hite teeth that must have cost a fortune and gave John his hand to shake. “I hope I see you soon, partner. Take care now.”
When the door closed behind him, John turned as Hayes, who had been listening to the interview, stepped out of his office to get John’s opinion of Jenkins.
“What did you think of him?” he asked.
“I thought he was over the top. He’s an overdressed con man and he wouldn’t be good for your company, Mr. Hayes.”
This wasn’t what Hayes was expecting to hear from his young manager. “It couldn’t be that you’re intimidated by him, John. Or maybe a little jealous of him?”
John shook his head, disappointed that Hayes would think such a thing. John’s only interest was in seeing Mr. Hayes’s business grow, and jealousy didn’t enter into the picture. “Be careful, Mr. Hayes. That one is trouble with a capital T.”
Hayes thought a while, and then he said, “John, I always respected your opinion, but this time I have to disagree with your assessment of the man. I’m going to hire him on a trial basis. If he proves to be the man I think he is, then we’ll keep him. If, on the other hand, you are right, then I’ll fire him.” The old man came over to John and put his arm around his shoulders. “Look, John. I respect your opinion more than any man I’ve ever known. But my goal is to have the largest real estate business in the state. I never wanted that before, but since you started working for me, I know now that I can do it. No, let me re-phrase that. I know we can do it. I can see that you love my daughter and I know she feels the same about you. Before I leave this Earth, I want to leave the two of you something valuable, and this business is the only thing of value I own - and someday it will be yours and Virginia’s, John. But, we can’t do it by ourselves. We need men like Jenkins. I intend to hire him as manager for the Flagstaff office and I’ll hire Mr. Johnson for the next office we open after Flagstaff.”
John was clearly disappointed. He had a gut feeling that Jenkins would bring trouble with him. He just nodded, while looking at the floor. “You know I’ll never go against your wishes, Mr. Hayes. If you want Tom Jenkins for the Flagstaff office then I won’t object. But, I want it understood that I don’t trust that man and I don’t like him. Just so you know where I’m coming from, Mr. Hayes.”
Hayes nodded his head in agreement. “I hope you’re wrong about him, John, but if you’re not, then it’s on the record and I won’t hold it against you if you prove me wrong.”
“Thank you for that, Mr. Hayes.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Tom Jenkins was hired and he immediately started hiring a staff that was loyal to him. He wasn’t worried about being paid a salary by Mr. Hayes. He was getting a substantial weekly stipend from the McCormack conglomerate. In effect, he was building the Flagstaff office for them, rather than for the Hayes Real Estate Company, Inc. Six months later, Mr. Hayes opened another office, this time in La Paz County, which is south of and borders on Mohave County.
What neither John W. Hardin nor Mr. William Hayes could know was that very shortly the world as they knew it was about to come crashing down on them. McCormack was about to unleash Kleinst on them. There would be no mercy shown to them. John W. Hardin would go to prison forever, and he would be forgotten by everyone, except for his mother. Mr. Hayes would have everything he held dear to him stripped away in one fell swoop. It would be like shooting ducks in a barrel to McCormack. He would gain possession of the mine and he would have Jenkins run the real estate business he was about to steel from Hayes. It was delicious. Nothing could stop them, and nothing could go wrong with their plan. It was foolproof.
John woke to a loud knocking at the front door of his home. He looked at his alarm clock. 2:30 a.m. He thought, who the heck could be banging on my door at this hour of the morning? “Okay, okay. Hold your horses. I’m coming.” He opened the door to see a dozen men in uniform with guns pointed at him. “Wha’... What’s this all about?”
“Shut up and turn around.”
Just then, his mother came to the door in her bathrobe. She turned to the cop who was placing cuffs on her son. “What’s this about, young man?”
“Go inside, ma’am. This is official police business.”
Mrs. Hardin wouldn’t budge. “You still haven’t told me what this is about, officer.”
Clearly annoyed at the old lady standing before him in her bathrobe, questioning him, he simply said, “Drugs. That’s what this is about.”
“But that’s impossible,” she said.
The cop laughed. “Tim, bring over one of those bales.”
The police officer dutifully did as he was told and brought a large bale with a rope wrapped around it. He laid it down on the ground in front of Mrs. Abigail Hardin. “This is just one bale of hashish. We found another 5 bales of the stuff along with three large bales of pot and another 4 large cartons of crack cocaine envelopes ready for distribution. It looks like we’ve busted a major drug laundering operation and your son is the kingpin.”
“What?” John W managed to say, before being dragged to a police cruiser and shoved roughly in the back seat. The police didn’t condone anyone selling drugs to children. “Mom, call Mr. Hayes and tell him what happened. This has to be a big mistake.”
The steel in Abigail resurfaced. “Where did you find these things, officer?” she said, pointing to the bale the police had dragged in front of her.
“We received a tip this morning and when we checked it out, we found it was true. The drugs were found in that old mine back there. It looks like that’s where your son kept it. Good plan, if I say so myself. Who’d ever look in an old abandoned mine for drugs?”
“But my son had nothing to do with any of that. He’s a hard-working boy. You can ask Mr. Hayes. He’ll tell you. He’ll vouch for my son.”
The cop had no thoughts either way. He was there to do a job and he was doing it. Now it was up to the courts to decide if her son was innocent or guilty.
As the police car pulled away, John was truly frightened. He always tried to be a good boy. He always tried to do the right thing for everyone. He was honest with his customers and with Mr. Hayes, his employer. John wondered what would happen to Virginia if he were to go to jail. Would she wait for him? Wait a minute. What was he thinking? How could he go to jail? He did nothing wrong and the court system would prove his innocence. He believed in the American system of justice, because it was fair, and it would prove him innocent of these ridiculous charges. Mr. Hayes would find him a good lawyer and he would prove that he had nothing to do with drugs. During the drive to the police station, he began to think. Could anyone be behind this? If that were true, then who could it be? The Hardins had nothing of value. Except, of course, his property. But Mr. Hayes told them that it was worthless and would always be worthless. So, this had to be a mistake because he had nothing anyone would want bad enough for them to frame him and have him arrested.
CHAPTER FIVE
The trial over the arrest of the drug-dealing kingpin made headlines around the country. Mr. Hayes hired the best lawyer in the state but the evidence against John was overwhelming. There was nothing Hayes or any other lawyer could do to help John. It was true that all of the evidence was circumstantial, but the District Attorney himself tried the case. Even the government got involved when they attempted to ascertain if drugs were transported across state lines. Evidence showed that that was in fact what happened. Poor John didn’t stand a chance. When the trial ended, John was sentenced to fifty years in jail at hard labor in the Arizona State Prison system. What little money John had saved was spent on his trial. Mr. Hayes sold two of his offices to help defray the cost of the trial, but it was to no avail.
John W knew from the hostile environment in that cold courtroom and the malevolent stares he was getting from the jurors that he didn’t stand a chance. The evidence supplied by an unidentified source to the prosecution was overwhelming and John W himself had to admire whoever it was that framed him. The disdainful looks he was getting from both jurors
and spectators alike told him that the verdict was a foregone conclusion. He was right. The prosecutor brought the trial to a speedy conclusion, and it didn’t take long for the jurors to reach a guilty verdict. Once the verdict was announced, he could tell by the jurors’ body language that they couldn’t wait to leave the courtroom. It appeared that the good citizens of Mohave County didn’t tolerate drug dealers - especially one as high on the totem pole as John W. Hardin was. He supplied drugs to their children and that was a fact. All the evidence presented at the trial was true, because the newspapers and television news reporters said it was true. Who in that courtroom would ever doubt the veracity of the media? The boy took a quick glance at his mother, who had always been his security. When their eyes met, it was as if a current had passed between them and their eyes locked in silent communication. He knew her pain and frustration was from her inability to help him when he needed her most. She looked at him, envisioning him frittering his youth away in a prison, and that caused her more pain. Her suffering saddened him even more than his arrest - and he held back tears that were on the verge of pouring from him like an open faucet. He dared not look at her as he hung his head in shame determined, not to cry in front of her. He would not to show any emotion for his mother’s sake. When the jury pronounced him guilty, as he was sure they would, the tears could come later.
The judge scanned a section of law pertaining to sentencing guidelines as the jury returned to the courtroom and took their seats. He kept his book open but put it aside. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”
