The Not-So-Little Rock

By Michael Don Fess

Erotic play drives this novel of intrigue, murder, and politics as a billionaire reveals his humble beginnings with the discovery of a not-so-little rock in Arkansas’s Crater of Diamonds.
Rich in history, the story includes the state’s financial difficulties during the depression and North Little Rock’s famous “Old Mill,” featured in the opening scene of “Gone With The Wind.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Don Fess
• Release date: May 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301343737

Michael Don Fess

Michael Don Fess, an author since the early 1990s, has over twenty published books to his credit. His favorite genre is mystery novels, but has published some non-fiction books. He is a informative speaker at civic clubs and is an accomplished artist.His popular Caribbean Mystery series consist of four books and the historical fiction series about the wild Louisiana politics in 1964 is a three book series. The latest series about "The Secret DNA Code" has a sequel, "The DNA Conspiracy."

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

September 23

Little Rock, Arkansas

Milton Smithton stopped pacing the hall as Doctor Bruin emerged from his uncle’s bedroom and quietly closed the door.

How is he, Doc? Milton asked.

I believe he had a light stroke, he answered. His left side is partially paralyzed.

I rushed right over when the maid phoned. She went in to wake him for breakfast and he couldn’t get out of bed.

You did right to call me immediately, the Doc said. I gave him a blood thinner and told him to lie quietly. I’ve called 911 for an ambulance to take him to the hospital.

That sounds serious.

In medical terms, I believe he has a thrombo-embolic clot most likely from a heart in atrial fibrillation or a deep vein thrombosis usually from the veins of the legs associated with periods of immobility and with the legs being in a dependent position.

Wow . . . what can a hospital do that we can’t do right here? He has full time help.

Our current therapy uses an enzyme delivered via a radiologically positioned catheter near the site of the cerebral clot in order to dissolve the clot as rapidly as possible. We can’t do that here and I don’t want to take any chances. Another clot might migrate up to his brain. They can closely monitor him in the hospital.

You know he’s hard-headed and impatient. He isn’t going to want to stay in bed.

The sedative I gave him should keep him still for the ride and until after lunch. By the way, how old is he now?

Let’s see . . . Uncle Silas was born in 1912 and since this is 2000, he is eight-eight.

Okay, I knew he was in his eighties. This incident shows that he needs to settle down a bit and ease up on his long work hours at the office. Actually, he needs to retire.

I can’t see him doing that, he has no hobbies.

You’ve been pretty active in the company, haven’t you?

Yeah, I seem to be the only one in the family who wants to run it. Dad has too much fun being a playboy and is rarely around.

I’ve watched Silas build Smithton Financial into a billion dollar company, said Doctor Bruin. I warned him several times about the long office hours with no exercise.

This is a terrible price to pay for hard work, said Milton. I guess he’ll have to let me take over now.

Where’s Silas, Jr. and his sister these days?

They’re both in Europe. That’s why the maid called me.

Well, I wouldn’t alarm them and spoil their trip. I think, with a little luck, he’ll last another year or two. Let me tell Bertha to watch for the ambulance crew.

Milton watched as the doc spoke to Bertha in a hushed tone as she nodded several times.

Thanks for coming over so quickly, Milton said, as they walked toward the front door.

Silas is a good friend and he managed my stock portfolio well. I’m worth over five million because of him.

He will be indebted to you if he pulls through this, said Milton, as he watched the doc close the door behind him.

He waited until the ambulance arrived, then turned to Bertha and said, I’ll be in the office if you need me. You have the number and I will check on him at the hospital after lunch.

She nodded, her lips trembled as she started to sob.

Pull yourself together, Milton admonished. You’ve been looking after him for twenty years and he needs you to be strong right now.

She wiped her eyes and nodded again.

* * *

Smithton residence, chirped Matilda’s familiar telephone voice.

Is dad awake yet? Milton asked, speaking into his cell phone..

Naw-suh Mr. Milton, he still in bed.

Wake him and hand him the phone, please.

You know he don’t like being waked up after a late night date.

How do you know he had a late date?

I sees the evidence. Three empty bottles of wine, two pairs of nylon panties on the bathroom floor, a pair of handcuffs, and several pieces of rope. Do you want me to continue?

Oh my . . . no, just wake him. It’s important.

Okay, but he be mad.

Milton waits for a long three minutes until he hears a grouchy voice in his ear.

This better be very important, son, I have a horrible headache, said his dad.

It is . . . Uncle Silas had a stroke last night and is partially paralyzed. The ambulance is taking him to the St. Mary Heart Center.

There was no response for at least thirty seconds.

Dad, did you hear me? Uncle Silas had a stroke.

I heard you . . . let me call you back after I’m fully awake. This ain’t good.

Okay, I’ll be at the office.

Milton closed his cell phone and shook his head. His dad had been the talk of the town since news of his antics became public knowledge. One of his dates filed charges after he tied her up and toyed with her for over four hours. The details were all in the police report and the news media featured every juicy detail.

His lawyer tried to hush it up, but he was too late. This came on the heels of a very public and nasty divorce, his third, which also created headlines. The Smithton name was taking its lumps.

He parked in the company garage in downtown Little Rock and walked into his office suite.

I’m out all day today, he said to Kelly, his secretary as he walked by. No calls and cancel all meetings. I have urgent things to attend to.

* * *

Milton turned into the long circle driveway to the Heart Center and found a space in the parking garage. He inquired at the desk and rode the elevator to the third floor where he met Dr. Bruin coming down the hall.

Has he been a good patient? he asked the doc.

I just got here, let’s go see.

Silas was awake and displayed a weak smile as they entered his hospital room..

How are you feeling? asked the doc.

I still can’t move my left arm, he muttered.

"That will probably take a while and some therapy. Right now, you need to stay in bed and try not to move around very much.

I’ve got a company to run. I can’t stay in bed.

You’re just going to have to let Milton take the reins for a while. You’re in no shape to run anything and if you’re not careful, the next clot may kill you.

A look of despair crept across the old man’s face as he began to realize the full impact of what had happened. He said nothing as he closed his eyes.

If you behave and follow directions, you may be able to lick this thing, added the doc.

Silas slowly nodded.

I prescribed some tablets I want you to take as the nurses direct. It’s for thinning the blood and hopefully they will also help dissolve that blood clot that is causing your paralysis.

Milton looked on as his old uncle nodded again. He was amazed at how different the hard-nosed, strong willed, driving force behind Smithton Financial looked as he closed his eyes again. He appeared to be almost a shell of a man.

I’ll come by about supper time to check on you again, said the doc. The nurses have their instructions, so you need to do what they say.

Silas nodded again, seemingly resigned to his unexpected situation.

I’ll come by too, said Milton, and give you a report on the day’s events at the office.

Dr. Bruin gave Milton a hard look and motioned for them to leave the room. He placed his hand on Milton’s shoulder as they closed the door.

I don’t want you to tell him anything except that everything is going well. No bad news or information that will cause stress.

I understand, said Milton.

I’ll be by about six, said Dr. Bruin, as he joined Milton at the door.

See you then . . . and thanks, said Milton as they parted.

As he started his car, his cell phone buzzed. He saw it was his dad, so he answered it.

I tried you at the office, but they said you were out. Tell me about Silas.

Dr. Bruin and I just left him, it could go either way. If the treatment dissolves the clot and prevents others, he may make it.

Can he have visitors?

The doc wants him to stay in bed and be very still. You should probably wait, at least until tomorrow.

There was a long pause before his father said anything.

Do you feel ready to run the company?

I do, but this was not how I wanted it to begin. I would like to pick his brain some more as I get into the routine. There are a lot of loose ends and little tricks that only he knows. We could accomplish that a lot easier if he could come to the office.

I’m glad to hear you have the confidence to take over. Keep me posted and tell him I’ll check on him tomorrow.

Milton sat staring at the device as he clicked it off.

* * *

The day had been pretty stressful for their brokerage division. The stock market took a beating and the Dow was down 231 points. It was if the world knew Silas Smithton was near death.

Milton had a worried look as he again drove into the hospital drive and found a space in the parking garage. He met Dr. Bruin coming out of Silas’s room. The doc’s expression brightened when he saw Milton.

He’s been asking for you, he said. I gave him another sedative to calm him down. Don’t say or do anything to cause him stress.

Milton nodded and quietly entered the room. Silas saw him come in and weakly smiled. With his right hand, he motioned for Milton to come closer.

Plan to spend tomorrow with me. I have much to tell you before I go, he whispered.

Remembering the doc’s admonition, Milton smiled and nodded.

You’re gonna be fine, Uncle Silas, he said in an assuring tone. The doc says you will last, at least, a couple of more years, probably longer.

I wasn’t born yesterday, I know the routine. I’ll be lucky to last the week.

Do you think you are strong enough to talk all day tomorrow?

I have to be . . . you must hear the story and the facts that only I know.

Puzzled, Milton squeezed his hand and said in a hushed tone, Okay, you get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.

He quietly left the room and stopped at the nurse station to find out if Dr. Bruin was still on the floor. Learning that he had gone, Milton phoned him the minute he reached his car.

Doc, he said, Uncle Silas wants me to spend all day tomorrow with him. He says he has much information to tell me that only he knows. Can I do that without stressing him?

Sounds to me like it might stress him more if you didn’t show up. Just listen, don’t ask too many questions. You need to just let him talk.

Okay, and I’ll try to keep it as short as possible.

Try to limit it to no more than an hour at a time. He will tire easily.

Will do . . . I can’t imagine what he thinks is so important.

CHAPTER 2

Milton arrived at his uncle’s bedside about eight AM and pulled up a chair so he could hear Silas’s whispered voice better.

What I’m about to tell you is for your ears only. You can never share this with anyone else.

The expression on Milton’s face became a questioning look as he slowly nodded.

As you know, Milton, your dad and I were raised on a farm near Murfreesboro down in southwest Arkansas. We were a poor family, just getting by on what we could raise and what we could sell. Our farm was only about two miles from where the Crater of Diamonds State Park is now.

Silas paused to collect his thoughts, then continued.

That Park is the remains of an old extinct volcano and until 1932, was a commercial diamond mine owned by a banker-attorney here in Little Rock. We supplemented our meager income by selling the workmen some garden vegetables and milk.

After the mine closed, I would go over on weekends, take little brother, and explore the diggings. We found a few small diamonds and sold them, but we learned quickly that any flaws and lack of clarity affect the value. We prized the few dollars we received with the depression and all. Money was scarce in those days, so a few dollars had a lot of buying power.

Milton nodded.

One weekend, he continued, Isaac went to town with our folks and I decided to go over alone and explore an area just north of the mine. I found an outcrop of rich black dirt that looked like the dirt at the mine. I thought it looked promising so I started digging. After a while, my shovel clinked against an object I thought was a large rock, but as I examined it, I realized that it was a huge diamond.

Milton leaned closer to hear better.

I took it down to a stream and washed it off. To my surprise, it was crystal clear. I knew immediately that it was a valuable find and I wondered how to get the most benefit out of it. I decided to conceal it until I could figure out the best way to handle it.

To give you an idea, he continued, the largest known diamond ever found in that old crater was barely three carats. My diamond weighed in at thirty-two carats when I finally took it to the high school chemistry lab and analyzed it.

Whew . . . that’s huge! Milton took a deep breath and scooted forward in his chair.

"Huge is right . . . that’s more than six grams. After giving it much thought, I decided to hide it until I had a good plan for its use. Later I left home and finally found work in Little Rock cleaning and doing odd jobs in the news room at the Arkansas Gazette."

I read that when the depression hit, Arkansas had as many problems as most states. Tax revenue dropped, businesses failed, and the state defaulted on the highway bonds issued in previous years. Banks were holding paper that was practically worthless.

People lost faith in the banking system and tried to pull their money out, which only made the situation worse. There were runs on banks all over the country which accelerated the bank’s demise. Behind closed doors, the assets of failed banks were being auctioned off to the highest bidders including those worthless bonds.

I overheard two of the editors talking one day about the bonanza for an owner if the state could ever redeem those bonds. It was then I came up with my plan.

As he talked, his voice became stronger and his face reflected new life. Milton became concerned that Silas was getting too excited as he related this history.

Uncle Silas, why don’t we take a break so you can take a short rest. I’ll step outside and visit with the nurse for a minute or two.

Sit still, boy . . . I’m just getting started. This is just background information so you can understand why you have to know this.

Milton relaxed in his chair rather than argue with his old uncle. The doctor was very clear with the instruction not to get Silas stressed or agitated.

You remember I told you that the diamond mine was owned by a banker-attorney here in Little Rock?

Milton nodded.

Well, his name was Percy M. Peatreet and I had seen him several times at the mine. I heard he was a pretty slick operator, not always completely within the law, so I made a decision to offer him a proposition. I walked across the river on the railroad bridge to his bank in Argenta, as North Little Rock was called in those days.

Why would you make a proposal to a crook?

Good question, my boy. First of all, I knew that Percy was well informed on diamonds and I had a big one. I had also learned that in these times, banks weren’t making any loans. I decided to appeal to his greedy nature. You won’t believe the deal I made with him.

A nurse interrupted them as she entered the room with his medicine.

Time to take your pill, Mr. Smithton, she said.

She handed him the tablet and gently raised his head so he could take a drink of water to wash it down.

How are you feeling? she asked.

Fine, he said, now run along, I’m having a conversation with my nephew.

Milton chuckled, knowing his uncle was used to running things, The nurse left the room with a hurt look on her face. Milton checked his watch, amazed at how much time had passed as he listened.

You need to be nicer to her, Uncle Silas, she’s taking good care of you.

"I wasn’t ugly . . . I just wanted her out of here so I could go on with