James Ross - A Character-Based Collection (Prairie Winds Golf Course)

by James Ross

  Without waiting for a reply, she quietly reminded him, “This job may cost you a wife and a family.” J Dub stared at his wife and she maintained her point. He dejectedly hung his head and said nothing further. There was nothing else for either of them to say.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Early Fall—1986 . . .

  Ellie Hackett had been trying her best to get to the bottom of the fraudulent deed claim that the Morton heirs had talked to Brian Moore about. The FBI couldn’t come up with anything conclusive to help the government’s case. At the very best it appeared as if the government might have a circumstantial case, but that wasn’t good enough to try to go for a criminal conviction.

  However, based on grand jury testimony and the available evidence, Ellie was fairly convinced that something had been taking place between Lew Zerrmann, Maurice DiMonte, and Raymond Parsons. She just couldn’t put her finger on it and no one was talking.

  The government had no idea about the small pot farm that Zerrmann had been harvesting. Nor did they have any inkling that it even existed. The farm was very well hidden. It was surrounded by the river thanks to a bend in the channel and a levee that carried railroad tracks as well as a large bluff.

  It was difficult to get to, let alone discover.

  Yet, on the other hand, DiMonte had been getting his hands on some cash and had been stashing it away in investments. Ellie originally thought that it might be campaign funds that had been coming into the Parsons coffers, but that turned up empty.

  The only recourse available to Ellie was to call DiMonte into her office and try to get him to talk. It was a bright, colorful, autumn day when DiMonte appeared in her office. He reluctantly took a seat opposite her desk. She suddenly got up, walked over to the window and peered out at the lovely pastels that covered the grounds and dotted the nearby countryside.

  “The reason I asked you in today, Maurice, is because your name surfaced during an FBI investigation of Lewferd E. Zerrmann,” she blurted.

  “And?” was all that Monty could muster.

  “We didn’t receive any glowing reports.” She studied his movements as she returned to her desk. She had been taught to keep an eye open for any movement or nervous twitch, just in case she struck a sensitive nerve. With a touch of uneasiness, Maurice fidgeted with his hands.

  As she took her seat behind her desk she said, “We don’t have enough to make anything stick on your associates.”

  Maurice sat stoically. He didn’t even blink.

  “But we do have enough evidence on you for money laundering activities that can put you away for quite some time.”

  Maurice locked eyes with Ellie. He glared at her. He clenched his jaw tightly and worked the muscles in his cheeks.

  “We would like for you to tell us what you know,” she continued.

  Tense seconds ticked away. Ellie studied every move that Maurice made. She had no idea what to expect. His eyes fixed on hers once again. After clenching his jaw a second time, Maurice exploded. “What do you think I am? Some snitch or something?” He gave her a defiant stare. “Go play with a cucumber!”

  Ellie was shocked. Never in all of her years of law enforcement had she been insulted so brazenly. After an awkward pause, she gathered her bearings. In a soft-spoken tone Ellie appealed to Maurice’s common sense. “You’re a lawyer with a lot to lose.”

  Maurice sat with his arms folded and glared back at her.

  After a pause she continued, “Maybe ten to twelve years of your life.”

  The silence was eerie.

  She was unrelenting. “ . . . Certain disbarment.”

  Monty looked fiercely at her without blinking.

  After another moment of silence Ellie persisted. “Monetary fines.”

  That was followed by a yawn and a disinterested demeanor from Monty.

  “We can make it easy on you,” Ellie said persuasively.

  Maurice stared at her. “I have nothing to say,” he replied.

  “I’m prepared to indict and prosecute,” Ellie persevered.

  Insubordinate and rebellious, Monty bellowed, “Prove it!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Walter Hancock was, by nature, a nervous type. He was especially jumpy on this particular morning as he awaited the arrival of Lew Zerrmann. Walter had taken the Zerrmann account after a referral from one of his clients. Naturally, when Lew had purchased the golf course, the accounting and bookkeeping affairs of the business went to Walter also.

  Walter’s wife, Nora, couldn’t stand Zerrmann. She had met him briefly at an open house over the holidays one year and had found him disgusting, lewd, and despicable. She warned her husband about getting involved with Zerrmann.

  Walter lived on the edge however. Rather than live as a victim buried in a deep rut, he would seek out those who provided the risk that was missing in his life and profession. Lew Zerrmann filled the bill on both counts.

  Over the years, Walter had developed a clientele base that was extremely loyal to him. He was smart, knowledgeable and educated. He knew the IRS Code backwards and forwards. Walter prided himself on staying current with the yearly tax changes. He would attend all of the seminars and continuing education classes that were offered on an annual basis. Early on in his career he had developed an attitude that indicated that he wasn’t afraid to live in the gray area that goes with the territory that the IRS had established. It was his opinion that the IRS established deductions for a reason. It was up to him to justify those reasons to a client. Perhaps that explained his nervousness on this morning.

  After all, they had been involved in a little bit of deception a couple of years earlier. As Zerrmann walked through the door, Walter handled the pleasantries quickly with ease. After a couple of exchanges, Walter got right to the point. “How is the golf course business?” he asked.

  “We’re making money hand over fist,” Lew replied.

  “The kid has worked out for you?”

  “ . . . Like I never imagined. He’s practically living there.”

  “Watching over the money, I presume.”

  Lew nodded and forced a grin. “But I have to figure out a way to get my hands on it,” Lew stated. “We decided to buy some more ground, but I want the rest of it for myself.”

  Zerrmann had just gotten the scare of his life. The feds had been asking him all kinds of questions and he had to depend on his friends to stay quiet. The last thing that he wanted was for someone to find the marijuana stalks on the field that he owned down south. He had quickly taken a disc to them and plowed them under. Lew sanitized the field the best that he could and put a legitimate crop on the ground. In so doing, another problem had been created. He lost his supply of cash. Lew’s greedy nature was what had precipitated the call for the meeting with Walter.

  “I hope that you don’t intend to just take it,” Walter suggested.

  “No, nothing like that,” Lew said. “But I can’t stand to pay taxes. That’s a total waste of money.”

  “That’s the price we all have to pay to live in this great country of ours,” Walter replied.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit.” Lew’s cockiness had progressed to the point where he thought that he was invincible.

  “I’m just yanking your chain,” Walter laughed. “At least I found out that you were human after all with a real, live heartbeat.”

  “You found out. Now figure something out,” Lew blurted impatiently.

  “Well, the easiest way to get to it is to create an expense to offset income,” Walter offered.

  “That’ll make the business less profitable.”

  “Don’t be naïve.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lew pried.

  Walter liked it when he had a rare advantage over Lew. “Think about it.”

  “I have! An expense is a charge against income. I’ll make less money,” Lew stammered.

  Walter grinned and shook his head. “The corporation will make less money.”

  “And that mea
ns me.”

  “Not necessarily,” Walter continued.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Like I said, think about it,” Walter suggested. “What is it you like to do on the golf course besides play golf?”

  “I can’t stand the game. It’s a total waste of my time,” Lew revealed.

  “Okay, then what else do you enjoy doing?”

  “I don’t mind the odd jobs.”

  “What does that entail?” Walter probed.

  “I’ll move some dirt for a tee box or fix a creek or repair a sprinkler leak. We just purchased some additional ground. J Dub and I are talking about building a new golf course. That would keep me occupied for a while.”

  “What do you use to do that work?”

  “The dozer, backhoe, or scraper depending on what we want to accomplish.”

  “Is that machinery that you own?” asked Walter.

  “Yeah, it’s my stuff.”

  “Then why don’t we have the golf course pay you for your work?” Walter offered.

  “It already does.”

  “But we categorize that work as a capital improvement. Let’s expense the work out,” Walter hinted.

  “Why do it that way?” Lew wondered.

  “ . . . So that we can get the golf course income to you!” Walter exclaimed. He was getting a charge out of leading Lew down an obvious path, but keeping him in the dark at the same time.

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “Look, we’ll create a machinery lease expense account. The machinery lease expense money will go to you for the use of your machinery,” Walter explained.

  “Will I have to pay income taxes on that?” Lew asked.

  “Of course, on your personal return,” Walter replied. “However, doing it that way funnels all of the business income to you.”

  Lew paused for a moment to think through Walter’s logic.

  “All we have to do is stay below the threshold of what the IRS looks for. We don’t want to throw up any red flags,” Walter explained.

  “So, we create an expense for the corporation that offsets any income that it brings in?” Lew volunteered out loud.

  “That’s pretty much it. That way you can get your hands on the cash without bringing attention to any kind of skimming scheme,” Walter justified. “The expense will actually be a bill from you to the corporation to pay you for the machinery that the corporation is leasing from you.”

  Lew thought for a second about what he had just heard. “I always knew that you were brilliant,” Lew admitted.

  Walter smiled and said, “The trick is not throwing up a red flag. Don’t get too greedy.”

  Lew smiled and uttered, “When can we start?”

  ~ ~ ~

  It didn’t take long for Lew to put his newly-discovered plan into action.

  Life at the golf course and in the pro shop had developed its routine. The number of guys showing up in the morning would vary from day to day. It would depend on what errands needed to be run or what doctor’s appointment had to be met or whose back needed a rest.

  To J Dub and Julie, this was their home away from home. It was a standard pattern. These guys were like “family” to J Dub and Julie. Relationships were formed, bonds were created, and deep ties were established. They all watched out for each other.

  That’s not to say that disagreements didn’t occur or arguments break out. Any differences that did take place were normally settled in quick order. The standard jokes were a topic of conversation as well as the daily news. One could almost always count on some sort of a prank on a weekly basis.

  It was obvious to all who was running the show. J Dub was the man. He was there from dawn to dusk, darn near every day. Julie was his “right hand man” so to speak. The two of them ran the business and made the decisions on the day-to-day stuff.

  They could expect a phone call or a quick visit from Lew toward the end of the morning hours. He liked playing the owner and would come by frequently to stir up the pot. He didn’t know a thing about golf, couldn’t stand the guys most of the time, and stopped by long enough to get his ego stroked. Actually, things went a lot more smoothly in his absence. However, he felt that he needed to make an appearance from time to time mainly to check on the money that was coming across the counter.

  So it didn’t come as any surprise when he walked into the pro shop one day and said, “J Dub, come on into the office. We need to talk about a few things.”

  J Dub turned the counter over to Julie and followed Lew into the office. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking. Maybe it’s about time we started making some improvements to the golf course. We can start buying up the neighboring property, but if we don’t take care of our bread and butter, then the cash that’s coming in might slow down.”

  “I’ve always felt that we needed to put some money back into the course.”

  “There has to be some things that we can do to improve the place.”

  “Several of the tee boxes can use some work. We need to get sprinklers and water to some of the areas that are too dry. Plus some of the creeks need to be worked on.”

  Lew was quick to agree. “That sounds like stuff that I can handle.”

  “We need to do some basic repair out on the course,” J Dub said. “If we don’t put a little something back into the place, then the guys will start griping,” he continued. “I really don’t want to listen to the negative stuff all of the time.”

  “I’ve got the equipment and the machinery to do the minor jobs,” Lew volunteered.

  “Do you have the time?” J Dub asked. “You always seem busy.”

  Lew felt like he needed to justify why he needed to do the work. “Those are little jobs that I can do on my own time. I can do the work and bill the course for my services. If we went on the outside to have the work done, then we’d have to pay somebody. Plus, I’ll be able to do the work at below market rates and give us better quality on the job.”

  “That sounds good to me. We need to get some minor things done around here,” J Dub replied.

  “What needs to be done first?”

  “We need to get a sprinkler line installed in some of the areas where the rough is burning out.”

  And so it was. Lew’s plan went into action. He would bring some heavy-duty equipment over to the course and piddle around on one of the holes. Over the years he busied himself with all sorts of little odd jobs.

  Additional sprinkler lines were installed. Rock was hauled in to reinforce creek banks and solidify cart paths. Lew would tinker with the tee boxes. He would move some dirt and create some mounds in various places. A tree spade replanted a variety of trees. A small pond was built. Older trees were trimmed. If greens needed to be rebuilt, then Lew and his machinery were quickly on site.

  All of this work on the course pleased J Dub. He felt that, finally, things were getting done on the golf course. “Well, would you lookee there! Ole Lew looks like he is finally doing something around here!” declared Fred.

  Easy Earl squinted in the distance, “It’s about time. This place is really shapin’ up.” J Dub smiled at the consensus of the room and continued with his own work inside the pro shop.

  Meanwhile, Lew would borrow the greens superintendent or some hourly workers or even J Dub, for that matter, to help with the various odd jobs. Whether it was a bulldozer, scraper, high-lift, or backhoe, the equipment was on the golf course. Any number of machinery operators was around to see that the work got completed.

  Whatever appeared very innocent on the surface was just a smoke screen for what was going on behind the scenes. To a casual observer, Lew was doing a lot for the golf course.

  For those involved, Lew wasn’t carrying his weight. It was not uncommon to see him pull the machinery onto the job site and supervise the hourly underlings. He then would retreat to the shade of a tree and sit in the air conditioning of his pickup truck. He would doze on and off as the country musi
c played in the cab.

  He had a pretty nice racket going. The jobs were going to be awarded to him. No competition was allowed to bid on the work. All that he would have to do was fill out a bill, present it to the golf course, get paid, and cash an attractive check.

  Upon completing a job Lew would simply march into the pro shop and instruct Julie to meet him in the office. In fact, one day the boys were shooting the breeze in the pro shop. J Dub was working the counter with Julie.

  Paul asked, “Have you seen the one that he’s been hauling around here lately?”

  J Dub replied, “Lois?”

  Fred was never one to shy away from a wisecrack. He said, “She’s been thirty-nine so long, she has two sons that are older than her.” The gang in the pro shop erupted into laughter.

  “Can you imagine what she looks like in the morning without that makeup?” Elia asked.

  Rollie couldn’t resist an opportunity to chime in. “My wife is over seventy and looks better than that thing Lew rides around with.”

  The boys reveled in their light-hearted moment. The pro shop door opened and Lew barged in. The boisterous energy left the room. Lew turned to Julie and said, “I need to meet you in the office.”

  Rollie yelled across the room, “Who have you been screwing today?”

  Never the one to be one-upped by anyone, Lew responded, “Did that yesterday.”

  “Then what are you doing around here?” Paul asked.

  “I had a big project on the course. You guys will really like that improvement.”

  “What did you do, plant a tree?” Fred asked. The guys chuckled at Fred’s sarcastic wit. They knew that whatever Lew did was with a minimal amount of effort.

  “No, I did the creek work over on number three,” Lew answered not knowing that he was the butt of their humor.

  “If you’re going to be out there, then why don’t you cut the greens once in a while,” Rollie yelled.

  “Then maybe we’d be able to make a putt,” Fred added.

  “They get cut twice a week,” Lew answered. “That’s more than enough. I’ve got to keep my payroll in line. And you know how gas prices are.”