Sunday, January 25, 2009

The Investment - Part One

Hear the story read by the author.

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Recently, a con man came to the church. The con man’s name was Gerald Huntsman III. It wasn’t his real name, of course, but it was how he introduced himself at coffee hour that first Sunday. “I find the ‘third’ at the end of my name a bit pretentious,” he told everyone. “So you can just call me Gerald.”

The so-called Gerald Huntsman III was a short man in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair and just enough of a paunch to appear truly ordinary. He wore brown leather loafers and a brown belt that didn’t quite match. He also wore a gold watch that looked quite expensive as long as you weren’t in the watch appraisal business.

Gerald often found his marks at churches. People trusted folks they met at church…as long as they didn’t know them very well. And the congregation of this little church was quite warm and friendly. When Gerald, in an upbeat voice, described the dreary, lonely hotel room he was staying in, he immediately received an invitation for dinner at Del and Karen Winslow’s house for that Thursday evening.

Thanks to a fortuitously overheard conversation shortly thereafter, Gerald learned that a group of the older women at the church consisting of Henrietta Miggins, Betsy Davis and Celia Simmons had tea every Sunday afternoon at a little café. That afternoon Gerald just happened to drop in at the same café. He went over to the women’s table and greeted them, expressing his amazement at the odd coincidence of the encounter.

Upon learning Gerald was alone, Betsy, a gracious Southerner, invited him to join them. Henrietta frowned, certain this strange man would ruin their afternoon, but refrained from commenting on that belief in his presence.

Over the next hour Gerald charmed Betsy with his gentlemanly manners and flirted shamelessly with Celia, a proud, seventy-three year-old African-American woman. The only one he couldn’t seem to win over was Henrietta. He thought he might have found his in when the conversation turned to the troublesome plumbing in Henrietta’s upstairs bathroom.

“I used to work for a plumber,” Gerald said. “Perhaps I could be of service.”

Gerald had indeed worked for a plumber for several months, embezzling the poor fellow out of several tens of thousands of dollars. But he had picked up a few tricks of the trade as well, one of which proved useful when he went by Henrietta’s house the following evening. He quickly solved the problem of her running toilet. He also managed to ascertain that Henrietta was quite well off.

He volunteered to help with many other chores for her over the following weeks.

But before that came dinner with the Winslows. Del had also invited Pastor O’Donnell and his wife Jennifer. Karen Winslow made a lovely pot roast which was the best meal Gerald had eaten in several years – at least if his compliments were to be believed. In truth, Gerald was so accustomed to giving false compliments he wasn’t even sure himself whether he actually liked the dinner or not.

Afterwards, the group retreated to Del’s basement game room to play some pool. Karen would have preferred to have tea with Jennifer in the living room, but Jennifer’s father had owned a pool table and she was delighted at the prospect of a game. As Karen watched and Jennifer methodically slaughtered the men, Del’s curiosity got the better of him and he worked the conversation around to Gerald’s business in Normal.

“Well, I suppose I can trust you folks to keep a secret,” Gerald said. “After all if I can’t trust people from church, who can I trust, right? I’m handling an investment pool for a group of venture capitalists. We’re funding a company that’s acquired rights to a patent on a new wireless social networking interface application. It’s already been released in Norway and reached 85% penetration in only eighteen months.”

Del and O’Donnell nodded in unison. Neither quite understood what Gerald was saying but it sure sounded impressive.

“You know,” Del mused, “I have a little bit of a nest egg just sitting in a money market account. I’ve been thinking about moving it into something more aggressive. Is there any chance I could get in on this?”

Gerald pondered. “Well, the fund’s fully subscribed. I might be able to work some things around, increase the shares. But there’s a half million dollar minimum.”

“Oh,” Del said, his face falling. “I don’t have that much.”

They each took a few more shots. Del seemed distracted and scratched when it was his turn. Finally he broached the subject again. “If I came up with $100,000 do you think there’s any way you could make an exception?”

Gerald frowned and furrowed his brow. “Well…” he finally said, “I’ll probably take some heat, but hey, you seem like such a great guy and you’ve made me feel so welcome I guess I owe you one.”

Del beamed. “Excellent!” he said.

Gerald looked over at Henry. “How about you, pastor?”

Pastor O’Donnell’s face reddened. “That’s a little out of my league.”

“What league are we talking about?” Gerald asked. “I could always merge your investment with Del’s in a side fund.”

“I might be able to scrounge together something like $10,000.”

“I could work with that,” Gerald said.

Jennifer took a shot, hitting the cue ball extra hard so it cracked loudly off its target.

“What do you think, honey?” Henry said, having gotten his wife’s hint.

“We should discuss it when we get home” Jennifer replied. Everybody in the room except the pastor knew at that moment that the O’Donnells would not, in fact, be investing in Gerald’s fund.

“Okay,” Gerald said. “But let’s keep this absolutely secret. I don’t want to be bombarded with a bunch of people begging to get a piece of the action.”

Which of course is exactly what happened the following Sunday…just like Gerald had planned.

(To be continued in two weeks)

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