“Eh, I’ve got to make a call.”
“Of course, Carl, by all means talk to your employers.” Rudy slid off the barstool and landed on his tiny feet with a soft thud. “But make it snappy. The price goes up if you make me wait too long.” Then he walked away.
After a few minutes, Carl put a napkin over his glass and left the barroom. The bar’s TV monitors proclaimed :
THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER TOMORROW!
In his haste to make a call, he didn’t see the message.
*
Boiler Room
Ethel staggered into the Bull & Bear carrying shopping bags crammed full with groceries. She rested them on the floor, rubbed the Bull’s hoof very hard with both hands for extra luck; picked them up again and moved towards the Coat-Check.
Hilda waved to her. “Your first drink is on the house, Ethel.”
“Thanks, I really need it today, my water is about to break.”
Ruthie rushed to help and carried a bag for her. “Are you pregnant?”
“No, of course I’m not pregnant, it was just an expression to describe how crappy I feel. It’s hot out and these bags are heavy.”
“Oh.”
She fanned herself with a newspaper. “How could I be pregnant for pity’s sake? I haven’t had sex with a man in … um … in …”
“Not since you and I went on a double-date with Larry and Marvin Hoffman,” Ruthie said. “That was three years ago already. My, how time flies.”
“Don’t remind me of those two meatheads.”
“Yes, well, all I can say, Ethel, is you and Larry were going at it hot and heavy in the backseat at the drive-in on Staten Island. The car windows got fogged up and I had trouble seeing the movie. I had to keep wiping them with a tissue.”
“Couples don’t go to drive-ins to watch the movie, Ruthie.”
“I do.”
“Were you peeking?”
“Not intentionally, Ethel, however I dropped my cashews and turned around to find them.”
“What did you see?”
“Larry’s pants were pulled down; I never saw a butt with so much hair on it.”
“What was I doing?”
“Your eyeballs were rolling around in your sockets like marbles. It was very sordid, Ethel, I must tell you. The car was shaking and Marvin had a lecherous look on his face beside me in the front seat.”
“Well, forget what you saw, Ruthie, that’s ancient history.”
“What’s with all the shopping bags?”
“I buy my groceries and supplies in bulk from wholesalers.”
“Why?”
“Because I get a discount and can save money.”
“That makes no sense, Ethel, in your situation.” She lifted out a 24-pack of soap from a bag. “This will last you four years; you don’t have any storage space in your tiny apartment.”
“Yes, you’re right, Ruthie, and this the last time I’m doing it.”
“Good.”
She whispered into her ear. “I expect to be coming into money soon, Ruthie, possibly quite a lot of money.”
“You won the lottery?”
She grimaced. “No, of course not, nobody in Manhattan ever hits the lottery. It’s always some white-trash people living in a trailer in the woods in Arkansas who win.”
“That’s true. So where’s the money coming from then?”
Ethel informed her about the Pump-and-Dump operation she uncovered at her firm and the SEC reward program for whistle-blowers. At the conclusion of her story, she hurried into the barroom to collect the free drink Hilda offered her, allowing Ruthie time to reflect on the matter.
Ethel returned within ten minutes holding a lollipop-pink tropical drink in a tall frosted glass with a tiny umbrella sticking out of it. “Any questions?”
“If I understand you correctly, Ethel, your firm buys up a large number of shares in small, worthless companies that trade for a few cents each on the Over-the-Counter market.”
“Correct; then they begin to spread false rumors on the Internet about the companies, claiming they’ve discovered a major gold deposit in Alaska or invented a miracle drug which will cure ovarian cancer.”
“Hmm.”
“The Internet is a terrific vehicle for spreading rumors.”
“So I’ve heard, Ethel.”
“They also buy the stolen e-mail addresses and phone numbers of mom-and-pop investors in volume from hackers in places like Russia, Romania or Nigeria. Tens of thousands of solicitation e-mails are sent out to hype these companies to them.”
“Ok.”
“They employ a Boiler Room, a chop-shop brokerage staffed with slick, sleazy salesmen, to cold-call these people and high-pressure them into buying the stocks at inflated prices.”
“I saw something like that once in a movie or on a TV cop show,” Ruthie said.
“As the suckers purchase the stocks, it creates an artificial demand and the prices start to rise dramatically. These investors soon tell their friends about all the paper profits they’re making, and, naturally, the friends want to get in on the action too, so they also invest, driving the prices way up.”
“Of course.”
“When the stock prices get sky-high, Ruthie, my firm dumps all its shares for large gains. The gold and cancer-curing rumors are soon discovered to be false and the stock prices collapse. All the small investors get caught holding the bag and lose their shirts.”
“It’s disgraceful!”
“Wait, it gets worse.”
“How can it get any worse than that?”
“My firm targets this scam at senior citizens, Ruthie, it specializes in defrauding senior citizens out of their retirement savings.”
“Despicable!”
“I intend to blow the whistle on the whole shebang.”
She closed her eyes and opened them again as Ethel was slurping
