Uncle John’s True Crime (13 page)

About 1,500 New York residents are bitten every year...by other New Yorkers
.

OPEN SECRET

The next morning the two men went to the Bank of California and deposited their bag in the bank’s vault. They made another big show of not wanting anyone to know what was in the bag, and again they let some of the bank employees have a peek. Soon everyone in the bank knew what was in it, including the president and founder, William Ralston. He had made a fortune off the Comstock Lode, and had his eye out for the next big find. Ralston didn’t keep the men’s secret, and neither did George Roberts: Soon all of San Francisco, the city built by the Gold Rush of 1849, was buzzing with the tale of the two miners and their discovery.

Arnold and Slack left town for a few weeks, and when they returned, they claimed they’d made another trip to their diamond field. And they had another big bag of gems to prove it. Ralston knew a good thing when he saw it and immediately began lining up the cream of San Francisco’s investment community to buy the mining claim outright. While Arnold played hard to get, Slack agreed to sell his share of the diamond field for $100,000, the equivalent of several million dollars today. Slack received $50,000 up front and was promised another $50,000 when he brought more gems back from the field.

Arnold and Slack left town again, and several weeks later returned with yet another bulging sack of precious stones. Ralston immediately paid Slack the remaining $50,000.

BIG TIME

Ralston didn’t know it, but he was being had. The uncut gems were real enough, but the story of the diamond field was a lie. Arnold and Slack had created a fake mining claim in Colorado by sprinkling, or “salting,” it with diamonds and other gems where miners would be able to find them. It was a common trick designed to make otherwise worthless land appear valuable. What made this deception different was its scale and
the caliber of the people who were taken in by it. Ralston was a prominent and successful banker; he and his associates were supposed to be shrewd investors.

CSI
effect? A juror in a trial once complained that investigators had not dusted the lawn for fingerprints
.

DUE DILIGENCE

To the investors’ credit, they did take some precautions that they thought would protect them from fraud: Before any more money changed hands, they insisted on having a sample of the stones appraised by the most respected jeweler in the United States—none other than New York City’s Charles Tiffany. If the appraisal went well, they planned to send a mining engineer out to the diamond field to verify first, that it existed, and second, that it was as rich as Arnold and Slack claimed. These precautions should have been enough, but through a combination of poor judgment and bad luck, both failed completely.

MAKE NO MISTAKE

In October 1871, Ralston brought a sample of the gems to New York so Tiffany could look them over. Ralston was already hard at work drumming up potential investors on the East Coast, and present at the appraisal were one U.S. Congressman and two former Civil War generals, including George McClellan, who’d run for president against Abraham Lincoln in 1864. Horace Greeley, editor of the
New York Tribune
, was there too.

Tiffany’s expertise was actually in cut and polished diamonds—he knew almost nothing about uncut stones, and neither did his assistant. But he didn’t let anyone else in the room know that. Instead, he made a solemn show of studying the gems carefully through an eyepiece, and then announced to the assembled dignitaries, “Gentlemen, these are beyond question precious stones of enormous value.”

The investors accepted the claim at face value—the appraiser, after all, was
Charles Tiffany
. Two days later, Tiffany’s assistant pegged the value of the sample at $150,000, which, if true (it wasn’t), meant the total value of all of the stones found so far was $1.5 million (in today’s money, $21 million)...or more.

IN THE FIELD

Now that the gems had been verified as authentic, it was time to send an
independent expert out to the diamond field to confirm that it was everything Arnold and Slack said it was. As he’d done when he brought the stones to Tiffany, Ralston went with the most qualified expert he could find. He hired a respected mining engineer named Henry Janin to do the job. Janin had inspected more than 600 mines and had never made a mistake. His first goof would prove to be a doozy.

Janin, Arnold, Slack, and three of the investors traveled by train to Wyoming, just over the border from Colorado. Then they made a four-day trek by horseback into the wilderness, crossing back into Colorado. At Arnold and Slack’s insistence, Janin and the investors rode blindfolded to keep them from learning the location of the diamond field.

The men arrived at the mesa on June 4, 1872, and began looking in a location suggested by Arnold. A few minutes was all it took: One of the investors screamed out and held up a raw diamond that he’d discovered digging in some loose dirt. “For more than a hour, diamonds were found in profusion,” one of the investors later wrote, “together with occasional rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. Why a few pearls weren’t thrown in for good luck I have never yet been able to tell. Probably it was an oversight.”

SEEING IS BELIEVING

Janin was completely taken in by what he saw. In his report to Ralston, he estimated that a work crew of 20 men could mine $1 million worth of gems a month. He collected a $2,500 fee for his efforts, plus an option to buy 1,000 shares in the planned mining company for $10 a share. He used the $2,500 and somehow came up with another $7,500 to buy all 1,000 shares; then he staked a mining claim on 3,000 acres of surrounding land, just in case it had precious stones too.

One of the secrets of pulling off a scam is knowing when to get out. It was at this point that Arnold and Slack decided to make their exit. Slack had already cashed out for $100,000; Arnold now sold his stake for a reported $550,000, and both men skipped town.

For Part II of the story, turn to
page 158
.

All five of the biggest diamond heists in history have occurred since 2000
.

The United States has McGruff the Crime Dog. But what about the rest of the world? Well, South Africa has Max the crime-fighting gorilla—and he’s real, not a cartoon
.

P
IT STOP

In 1997 an armed criminal named Isaac Mofokeng tried to break into a house near the Johannesburg Zoo. The homeowner caught him in the act and called police. Mofokeng fled into the zoo, jumped down into the gorilla pit and he found himself face to face with two gorillas: a 400-pound male named Max, and a smaller female named Lisa.

Max had lived almost all of his 26 years in the zoo, so he was used to humans, but he’d never been confronted like this before. Sensing that he and his mate were threatened, he grabbed Mofokeng in a giant hug, then bit him on the butt and slammed him against the wall of the enclosure. Terrified for his life, Mofokeng fired three shots from his .38, hitting Max in the neck and chest.

By then Max was pretty agitated. He attacked police officers as they entered the enclosure to arrest Mofokeng, and zoo officials had to subdue him with a tranquilizer dart. Max was rushed to a nearby hospital and registered under the name “Mr. M. Gorilla.” Surgeons successfully removed the bullet from his neck but decided it was safer to leave the one in his shoulder. Luckily Max made a full recovery. A month later he received an apology from Mofokeng. “I wanna say I’m sorry to the gorilla,” the burglar told reporters as he was being led from court. “I was just protecting myself.”

PRIME PRIMATE

Max became the star attraction of the Johannesburg Zoo, as well as a national hero and a symbol of defiance to South Africans frustrated by the country’s high crime rate. For his courage under fire he was awarded a bulletproof vest and named an honorary officer by the Johannesburg police force. Max lived out the rest of his life in peace and quiet, enjoying his favorite snacks of garlic, onions, and the occasional beer before dying in his sleep of old age in May 2004. He was 33.

Who was Samuel R. Caldwell? The first American to be jailed for selling marijuana (1937)
.

This may sound unbelievable, but it comes from the transcript of an actual 911 call made in Orange County, California
.

D
ispatcher:
Sheriff’s department, how can I help you?

Woman:
Yeah, I’m over here at Burger King right here in San Clemente.

Dispatcher:
Uh-huh.

Woman:
Um, no, not San Clemente—sorry—I
live
in San Clemente. I’m in Laguna Niguel, I think. That’s where I’m at.

Dispatcher:
Uh-huh.

Woman:
I’m at a drive-through right now.

Dispatcher:
Uh-huh.

Woman:
I ordered my food three times. They’re mopping the floor inside, and I understand they’re busy...they’re not even busy, okay? I’m the only car here. I asked them four different times to make me a Western Barbeque Burger. They keep giving me a hamburger with lettuce, tomato, and cheese, onions, and I said, “I’m not leaving...”

Dispatcher:
Uh-huh.

Woman:
I want a Western Burger because I just got my kids from Tae Kwon Do. They’re hungry, I’m on my way home, and I live in San Clemente.

Dispatcher:
Uh-huh.

Woman:
Okay, she gave me another hamburger. It’s wrong. I said four times, I said, “I want my hamburger right.” So then the lady called the manager. She...well, whoever she is, she came up and she said, “Do you want your money back?” And I said, “No, I want my hamburger. My kids are hungry, and I have to jump on that freeway.” I said, “I am not leaving this spot,” and I said, “I will call the police because I want my Western Burger done right!” Now is that so hard?

Dispatcher:
Okay, what exactly is it you want us to do for you?

Woman:
Send an officer down here. I want them to make me...

Bob Hope was jailed as a youth for stealing tennis balls
.

Dispatcher:
Ma’am, we’re not going to go down there and enforce your Western Bacon Cheeseburger.

Woman:
What am I supposed to do?

Dispatcher:
This is between you and the manager. We’re not going to enforce how to make a hamburger; that’s not a criminal issue. There’s nothing criminal there.

Woman:
So I just stand here...so I just sit here and block...

Dispatcher:
You need to calmly and rationally speak to the manager and figure out what to do between you.

Woman:
She did come up, and I said, “Can I please have my Western Burger?” She said, “I’m not dealing with it,” and she walked away. Because they’re mopping the floor, and it’s also the fact that they don’t want to...they don’t want to go and...

Dispatcher:
Then I suggest you get your money back and go somewhere else. This is not a criminal issue. We can’t go out there and make them make you a cheeseburger the way you want it.

Woman:
Well, you’re supposed to be here to protect me.

Dispatcher:
Well, what are we protecting you from, a wrong cheeseburger?

Woman:
No...

Dispatcher:
Is this like...a harmful cheeseburger or something? I don’t understand what you want us to do.

Woman:
Just come down here. I’m not leaving.

Dispatcher:
No ma’am, I’m not sending the deputies down there over a cheeseburger. You need to go in there and act like an adult and either get your money back or go home.

Woman:
She is not acting like an adult herself! I’m sitting here in my car; I just want them to make my kids a Western Burger.

Dispatcher:
Ma’am, this is what I suggest: I suggest you get your money back from the manager, and you go on your way home.

Woman:
Okay.

Dispatcher:
Okay? Bye-bye.

Read this and keep quiet: Demand notes are used in 57% of bank robberies
.

When people enter the federal government’s Witness Protection Program, they’re supposed to hide, right?

W
ISEGUY:
Henry Hill, a member of New York’s Lucchese crime family and participant in the $5.8 million Lufthansa heist from New York’s Kennedy Airport in 1978, the largest cash theft in U.S. history

IN THE PROGRAM:
The Witness Protection Program relocated him to Redmond, Washington, in 1980, and Hill, who’d changed his name to Martin Lewis, was supposed to keep a low profile and stay out of trouble. He wasn’t very good at either—in 1985 he and writer Nicholas Pileggi turned his mob exploits into the bestselling book
Wiseguy
, which became the hit movie
Goodfellas
.

WHAT HAPPENED:
When the book became a bestseller, “Martin Lewis” couldn’t resist telling friends and neighbors who he really was. Even worse, he reverted to his life of crime. Since 1980 Hill has racked up a string of arrests for crimes ranging from drunk driving to burglary and assault. In 1987 he tried to sell a pound of cocaine to two undercover Drug Enforcement officers, which got him thrown out of the Witness Protection Program for good. “Henry couldn’t go straight,” says Deputy Marshal Bud McPherson. “He loved being a wiseguy. He didn’t want to be anything else.”

WISEGUY:
Aladena “Jimmy the Weasel” Fratianno, Mafia hit man and acting head of the Los Angeles mob. When he entered the Witness Protection Program in 1977, Fratianno was the highest-ranking mobster ever to turn informer.

IN THE PROGRAM:
Fratianno has another claim to fame: he is also the highest-paid witness in the history of the program. Between 1977 and 1987, he managed to get the feds to pay for his auto insurance, gas, telephone bills, real-estate taxes, monthly checks to his mother-in-law, and his wife’s facelift and breast implants.