by Joe Corso
“Speaking of his mother, what ever happened to her?”
“That’s a whole other story in itself. She died of a broken heart. She used to call me once a month, asking about her son. When I didn’t hear from her, I drove out to see her. That’s when I found her dead in her home.
“McCormack, that’s the man who took their land away from them, and convinced Abigail Hardin, John’s mother, to sell him her land in exchange for a fully furnished mobile home up near the Grand Canyon, along with one hundred twenty five thousand dollars. He told her what she thought she knew. That her land was worthless, and he was just giving her the home and money to help her because he felt sorry for her. He made national headlines as her benefactor. Nothing was ever mentioned about the old gold mine he reopened. I couldn’t keep up fighting him, and at the same time trying my best to get John W out of prison. I went broke trying. You know, I never could find out where they were keeping poor John W. No one would tell me. All I know is that I was told that he died in a prison accident, which killed two prisoners, one of which was him, and severely injured three guards.
“I hired me an honest private detective who helped save my daughter Virginia from a fellow John warned me not to hire. John said he didn’t trust the man but I didn’t listen to him. I hired him anyway, to my eternal regret. He ran the Flagstaff office into the ground intentionally. He turned down deals my salesmen worked hard to get. Then he paid them with McCormack’s money so they wouldn’t quit. Jason Sweeney, the detective I hired, found out about it and he told me. Then he came with me when I fired him. My troubles didn’t stop there, but I don’t want to bore you any longer telling you my troubles.”
“Mr. Hayes, I believe your luck is about to change. Do you have any debt, Mr. Hayes?”
“Yes, I do. A lot of debt, but I don’t like talking about it to a stranger.”
John looked at his old benefactor for a long moment. Then he finally said, “I want you to take me to your bank. I assume it’s a bank that you’re having all the trouble with?”
“Yes, you’re right. It is a bank.”
“Please take me there. I’d like to talk to the bank manager.” Hayes didn’t know why, but he agreed to take Mr. Christo to see his bank manager.
Christo walked into the bank, looking like the billionaire he was, and he took a seat without being asked. He looked the bank manager in the eye and didn’t mince words. “How much money does Mr. Hayes owe your bank?”
The manager a Mr. Stern looked at Hayes, who nodded, then he looked at Christo and told him, “Mr. Hayes owes this bank two hundred twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“I see,” John said, and reached into the inner pocket of his suit, taking out his checkbook. John wrote something on the check, tore it out, and handed it to the bank manager.
The man looked at it, then at John. “What is this check for, Mr. Christo?”
“Please deposit that check in Mr. Hayes’s account. Pay off his debt and leave the rest in his account. Is that understood, Mr. Stern?”
“Yes. Yes it is. I’ll do it right now.” He pressed the intercom button. “Marian, please come in to my office.” He handed her the one million two hundred fifty thousand dollar check, together with a deposit slip. “Please deposit this check in Mr. Hayes’s account.”
John looked at Mr. Stern. “From now on I’ll be underwriting Mr. Hayes in anything he decides to do. Here’s my card. Check my references and then do not ever bother Mr. Hayes again. You’ll call me on my private number or my bank’s number. Do you understand?”
When they were outside, Hayes asked John why he did that. “Why would you help a perfect stranger?”
“That’s a fair question, Mr. Hayes, and one that deserves an answer. I knew John Hardin. Like him, I too was unfairly send to prison and I met him when he first arrived at the prison. I was an inmate too, and he told me all about you. He told me how much you meant to him. I promised him if I ever got out of prison, if you needed help, then I would help you. As you can see, I’ve done very well in life. I have wealth and stature. I can not spend all the money I have and I wanted to keep my word to John Hardin. Here’s my card, Mr. Hayes. If you should ever need me, call me no matter how small a matter you feel it is and I will help you without reservation. Any friend of John’s is a friend of mine and I know he only had one friend and that was you, Mr. Hayes. Just so you know, John loved you like a father. He wanted you to know that. Now before I leave, I want to ask you about your daughter, Virginia. I’d like to know what happened to her.”
“She went up North to live with her Aunt Harriet, my sister. She waited for John, hoping he would return. She’s been depressed ever since she was told that he was killed in prison.”
“If you talk to her, tell her that she’ll receive news in the near future that will cheer her up. She was always such a happy girl. She doesn’t deserve to be sad.”
“How do you know she was always happy, Mr. Christo?”
“John told me all about her. I feel as though I have always have known her. Well, thank you for your time. I’ll be seeing you real soon. And remember, if you should ever need me, you have my card. Don’t lose it. Goodbye, Mr. Hayes, we’ll see each other again soon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
On a bright Sunday morning, a woman wearing a plain dress and an apron answered her door when the doorbell rang. She was surprised to see a very well dressed elegant bearded young man standing in the doorway. “Yes can I help you?”
“Yes you can. I’m looking for a Lee Flowers. Does he live here?”
“Yes, he does. Can I ask what you want to see him about?”
“I’m afraid that’s personal, ma’am, but I can assure you that it’s nothing bad. In fact, I think he’ll be rather pleased to hear what I have to tell him.” Reassured by his pleasant personality and prosperous appearance, she opened the door a little wider, and said, “Please come in. I’ll go and get him.” She escorted John W into her small living room and asked him to have a seat while she went for her son.
A few minutes later, Lee Flowers walked in, wearing a shirt and tie and holding a jacket over his arm. He looked the stranger up and down, trying to get a read on him. “I’m Lee Flowers. What can I do for you?” Lee looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties with blonde hair, about six feet in height, with a slim, muscular body.
John W answered his question. “You helped a friend of mine once when he had no friends. You showed him a kindness that no one else offered him.”
“Wait a minute. You don’t mean that kid they put out in that prison that they re-opened in the middle of the Gila Bend Desert, do you?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Word got back to me what you did for him. He asked that I come and see you to tell you how much that meant to him.”
“Yeah, well. That act of kindness got me fired. I mean I tried to do the right thing but you know . . . it just ain’t right for a man not to be allowed to talk to his mother.” Mrs. Flowers came into the room and heard the last part of what Lee said.
“What mother are you talking about, Lee?”
“Well, there was this boy who was locked in the god-forsaken prison in the middle of the desert that I was assigned to. He asked me if I’d do him a favor and inquire about his mother. He was worried about her and he asked me to try and see how she was getting along. I tried. I went to my supervisor and asked about her but he prevented me from looking into it. When I asked him why, he fired me, just like that.”
“I see,” John said. “What are you doing for work now?”
“Nothing. I was about to go out for a job interview, that’s why the shirt and tie. I haven’t worked since I was fired. You know what I think?”
“No. Tell me what you think.”
“I think they black-balled me. They fired me, and then put the word out throughout the security field that they were not to hire me. I can’t think of any other reason why I’m not being hired. I have the experience. Hell, it’s all I’ve ever done since I got out
of the army. I was an MP in the service and it carried over into my private life. Security work is the only work I know and the only thing I’m good at.”
John W nodded his head in understanding. “I understand what you’re saying. Now I have a proposition for you. It’s a job offer, if you want a job.”
Lee’s eyebrows lifted in anticipation, waiting to hear what the job offer entailed. “Well, it’s no secret that I could use a job. What do you have in mind?”
“I want to hire you as my assistant. Sort of a bodyguard, gofer-type job, but it pays well, and I think you’ll like it.”
Mrs. Flowers stood and said, “I insist you stay and have something. Would you care for a fresh cup of coffee and donuts?”
“That would really hit the spot, ma’am.”
“Then if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’ll go put a pot on. I’ll pour you a cup as soon as it’s ready and come right back in here. I don’t want to miss what you have to say to Lee, so don’t say anything till I get back.”
“All right then. We’ll wait for your mother to return, then I’ll have a cup of coffee and tell you what I have in mind for you.” A few minutes later, Mrs. Flowers came back, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and donuts on it. She set it down and handed John his coffee, and then she poured one for Lee.
“I didn’t know how you take your coffee, Mr. . . . Mr. . . .? What did you say your name was?”
“It’s Christo, ma’am. John Christo.”
“Well then, Mr. Christo, enjoy your coffee. Now what were you about to say to Lee?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Flowers. I take it black.” He took a sip and remarked. “Hmm this is good coffee. What kind is it?”
“I like Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, so that’s what I buy.”
John agreed with her. “It’s excellent. Now, as for the job I have in mind for your son. Let me start by giving him something.” John pulled an envelope out of his inner suit jacket and handed it to Lee.
Lee opened the envelope and his eyes lit up. “Holy shit, what the hell is this for?” He looked at his mother sheepishly. “Sorry for cussin’, Ma.”
His mother acted as if she hadn’t heard what he said. She reached over and took the envelope out of his hand. She opened it, looked at what was in it, and gasped. “Oh my lord,” she said. “Is this all Lee’s?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s all his.”
“But this check is for one hundred thousand dollars.”
“Yes it is. And it’s all Lee’s.”
“But, what’s it for? Why are you giving him this much money?”
“Because he did a kindness to someone who was without hope. A person who was framed for the crime he was charged with, a person who had no one to turn to. There was no one who offered to help this boy, except your son, Lee. That boy in prison didn’t forget that kindness, and he was sad when he heard that the one man who offered to help him was fired from his job for just asking one question. I knew that young man. He was a friend, and he told me to look you up. He asked me to help you if you needed help. I happen to be very wealthy, and I can afford this. I want you to have it. It’s yours and there will be no further discussion about it. As for the job offer, if you decide to accept my offer and come to work for me, I will pay you well.”
Lee wanted to ask him some questions, but he felt as if he were looking a gift horse in the mouth, and would appear ungrateful. He finally got the courage to ask, “What will my duties be, and what will I be paid if I decide to work for you?”
“Before I answer that question, tell me what you were being paid as a guard.”
“I made about fifty thousand dollars a year, plus overtime.”
John nodded in understanding. “I’ll double that. I’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars a year and I’ll guarantee you a year’s employment. If I like the way you work and if you like working for me, then I’ll take good care of you. In fact, you can say that you would have a job for life.”
“When would I start?” Lee asked.
“Well how soon could you start?”
“I could start tomorrow. I’m doing nothing right now, and I’m itching to get back to work.”
“Okay, it’s settled. We have a deal, then. My car will stop by to pick you up tomorrow morning at eight thirty. Oh! And make sure you deposit that check today because you won’t have time to do it tomorrow.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The private jet landed at LaGuardia airport in Queens, New York. Two passengers got off the plane and walked to the waiting limousine. The driver checked to make sure his passengers were comfortably seated with their safety belts on, and then he put the car in gear and headed for Manhattan.
“Where are we going, Mr. Christo?” Lee asked.
“Our first stop is Valentino Maximus, a men’s shop where I buy my clothing and that’s where you’ll buy your suits from now on. They’re the finest men’s store this side of the Atlantic. I want the men working for me to look their best, so from now you will look the part.”
The driver pulled up to the curb in front of the store on Spring Street and remained in the car while his passengers stepped out of the car. Lee stood there for a moment, looking at the sign “Valentino Maximus” above the entrance to the store. It’s a strange name, he thought and wondered about its origin.
Valentino, a young Italian man in Florence, Italy was taught by Flavio, his father, the secrets of fine tailoring, and because of his father’s patience, he became not just a good tailor or an average tailor but the finest tailor in all of Florence. The young man had heard stories about America, such as how the streets there were paved with gold. After he was an accomplished tailor with a growing reputation, he envisioned the store he would someday open in America, and he made up his mind to go there to seek his fortune. He asked his father to come with him, but Flavio refused to leave his beloved Florence. However, he encouraged his son to follow his dream. Valentino arrived in America and he opened a little men’s store on Spring Street in downtown Manhattan in 1958 with the money his father had given him when he left Italy. He named his store “Valentino Maximus.” “Valentino” after his first name and “Maximus,” A Roman general’s name, to add a little mystery as the last name of his business.
The quality of his work spread by word of mouth over time, even though the store grew it remained relatively small compared to the larger men’s stores. But the business grew in spite of that and when it was time, it was handed down from father to son, to its current owner, Carlo, the grandson of the Italian patriarch who taught his son the trade his father had taught him. The quality of the suits had never wavered as the skills were passed down from generation to generation and today, their suits were sought after by celebrities, actors, sports figures, and men of wealth.
A salesman greeted them as they entered the store. “Welcome to Valentino Maximus, gentlemen, what can I do for you today?”
John W observed the man before speaking. “I’d like Carlo to take care of us, if he’s available.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but Carlo is out of the store at the moment. I’m the manager. Can I help you?”
John W was disappointed, but he had his day planned, and he didn’t want to come back later, so he acquiesced. “We need five suits as soon as possible, and this young man wants to wear one of them when we leave.”
Five suits was a decent sale for any salesman who worked on commission, but being the manager, he worked on salary and not commission. He recognized Mr. Christo from his prior visit and he knew he appreciated good service. Since Valentino was known for its service as well as the quality of its suits, he was determined to provide it.
“Follow me, please. If you have any questions, just ask me. My name is Samuel, and I’ll be happy to answer them for you.” Then he turned and walked to the rear of the store to a rack of suits. Each suit was enclosed in a custom zippered bag with the Valentino logo on it. “Giorgio!” he called. A man turned and saw his manager motioning to him. He dropped what he was doin
g and walked over to him. “Yes, Mr. Bramonte, did you want to see me?”
“Yes, Giorgio. This man needs five suits and he wants to wear one of them when he leaves here. I want you to assist him.”
Giorgio appreciated what his manager just gave him. He gave him a customer that would earn him a good commission and in return, Giorgio was expected to give them the best service possible.
“Take good care of these gentlemen, Giorgio. I’ll check back in a few minutes to see if they require anything else.”
Giorgio explained to the men, “As you know, we specialize in creating men’s custom suits, but we do have excellent off the rack suits available for someone who needs a suit in a hurry. Now come over to this rack, pick the suit you like, and I’ll see to it that you’ll be wearing it when you leave the store. As for the other four suits, let me to show you the ones that are currently in vogue and you can point out any four you would like us to make for you.”
John liked Giorgio’s suggestion.
“I’ll show you the ready-made suits first,” Giorgio said. He asked John and Lee to follow him as he walked along a rack of suits and stopped when he came to the size suit he thought would fit the young man.
John W spotted it right away and pointed to a subdued black pinstriped suit. “This one. This is the one I want him to wear today.”
Giorgio smiled. “Good choice, sir. Very elegant.” He turned and snapped his fingers to get the attention of a young man putting a suit back on a rack. “Salvatore, come here, please. Take this gentleman to the fitting room and have him try on this suit. It must fit him perfectly. If it needs an adjustment, call Willard and have him make the adjustment immediately. Giorgio turned to Lee and John. “Willard is our tailor and, between us, he’s the best in the business. Unfortunately he knows it.” Then he whispered conspiratorially, “His reputation is going to his head and he struts around the store like a peacock.” He sighed. “But there’s no denying it, he is the best of the best of all the tailors in New York City, except of course for Carlo. Now if you’ll come with me, sir, this won’t take long. I must take your friend’s measurements, then we can begin the process of making your suits. When they’re finished, I’ll have them delivered to you.”
