Anton Walker Research Paper

He consumed me, had been for years. Just couldn’t seem to get enough. You see, Anton Walker was a brilliant mind, a true virtuoso of his craft. But the artistry of his crime was unfortunately only painted with one colour, gold with his obsession of greed, of me. Ever since a young age Anton had been silver-tongued, he would talk his way out of trouble, and into the hearts of the wealthy. By 1983, Anton was an underground millionaire, basking in his immoral fortunes. He was living a selfish man’s dream, drinking champagne, smoking Cubans and driving fast cars. But that wasn’t enough to fuel Anton’s compulsion; he was a slave to the dollar.
Anton seized just about any opportunity to make cash, and fortunately for him there was an opportunity

The rest is about authenticity. When so much money is at stake, it’s not enough to pretend, you have to become. Anton spent countless sleepless nights, trying to reach this level of commitment, all in my name, and finally he became Michael Stanton. Before he knew it, he was in the carriage of an AMTRAK train leaving his beloved Boston, a place of serenity, and heading to New York, the city of business and law. Eventually, Anton found himself on the doorstep of the World Trade Centre, two buildings that just reeked of me. Anton showed his fake ID to the guard near the elevator, and showed himself up to the 11th floor, hosting the Bank of America. Anton confidently sauntered towards the front desk, and with his velvet tongue, announced to the receptionist, “Good afternoon, dear. Michael Stanton, I’m here to move one of my accounts.” Hurriedly, a well-dressed man with an impeccable crew-cut came over to greet Anton. “Mr Stanton! It’s great to finally meet you in person. I’m the boss, Jonathan Mahone. We called you a few months ago, but you didn’t respond. We love what you do here. Your portfolio is outstanding. Before you do anything rash with your accounts, we would like to offer you a job here as a financial analyst. The pay is great, and we can offer you a corner office looking out at the Empire State