The Big Con (11 page)

“I might have known that you men would get into a jam,” says Mr. Lamster, “but now that you are in it, I’ll do all I can to get you out. I don’t want to see you lose that money. But, on the other hand, I can’t afford to interfere with my own business. Mr. Ryan, how much cash can you raise right away?”

Mr. Ryan studies very hard. “I haven’t much cash in the bank,” he says. “Most of my money is tied up in investments. But I have $17,000 in government bonds. I could cash those on short notice.”

“How much can you raise, Mr. Fink? Can you make out the other $33,000?”

Mr. Fink studies. He gets out his notebook and perspires over it. Finally he says, “I just can’t make it. $25,000 is all I can possibly raise right now. My investments are pretty well tied up and I can’t disturb them. But I could cash some paper and raise the $25,000.”

“Well,” says the accommodating Mr. Lamster, “I have a bank account here. My boss must never find it out or I’d get fired, but I can let you have the other $8,000 until this thing is cleared up. It won’t take long.”

“That would be damned nice of you,” says Mr. Fink.

“All right, now,” continues Lamster, “I think we have everything in hand. It is after banking hours now, but the first thing in the morning we will all go to my bank and get things moving. I am well connected there and I am sure that they will co-operate in every way. Where does your money have to come from, Mr. Ryan?”

“My securities are in the People’s Bank at North Adams, Massachusetts. I’ll telephone the bank in the morning to turn them into cash and send them right down. How long will it take you to get yours, Mr. Fink?”

“I’ll have to ’phone Boston,” says Mr. Fink. “Mine will be here all right.”

Here we are assuming that the con men take a chance with the Federal Government and use the mails to transport the money. Often the mark is “put on the send” as described in the account of the wire.

Mr. Fink is somewhat disturbed over the division of the proceeds. Ryan evidently expects to repay Lamster’s $8,000 and take half of the $256,000. That isn’t right. If he wants half the proceeds, he should put up half of the capital. Otherwise, they should split it proportionally and give Lamster a share too. That would be only right. He mentions it to Ryan. Ryan hedges, but leaves the impression that he doesn’t expect to include Mr. Lamster at all. The irritation that Fink has been feeling for Ryan during the past day flares into definite dislike; the influence of Mr. Lamster looms larger and larger in his mind. This fellow Lamster is one of the finest fellows he has ever met. Nothing small about him. And Mr. Fink cannot abide small people.

At this point the mark is usually “tied up.” That is, he is placed in the custody of the roper and never allowed to be alone until the bitter end. It is done something like this.

Mr. Ryan excuses himself, or Mr. Lamster makes a private appointment with Fink. When they are alone, Mr. Lamster speaks thus: “Mr. Fink, I wanted to talk to you privately because I have observed that you have a good deal of character and that you are always to be depended upon. This is just a start. I feel sure that I can make a substantial fortune at this business. You and I understand each other pretty well. There is no reason why you can’t go along with me in it. But it is absolutely necessary that we have complete secrecy. Are you willing to assure me that you will protect my confidence in every way?” (At this point the insideman sometimes goes so far as to swear the mark in on a convenient Gideon Bible; but in
view of Mr. Fink’s obvious integrity, we will not subject him to that ordeal.)

Mr. Fink is only too willing to comply with this request.

“Now about this man Ryan …” continues Mr. Lamster.

“I don’t like him,” says Mr. Fink with some heat. “He is a little too greedy. He wants half the profits without putting up half the capital. He impresses me as being a rather small man.”

“I am sorry to say that you express my sentiments exactly,” says Lamster. “But that is really neither here nor there. The serious point is this: can he be trusted?”

“I don’t think so,” says Fink.

“Well, perhaps you are right. And I think you understand how important it is, not only for me but also for you and Ryan, that this thing be guarded very carefully. I have talked with Ryan about it and he doesn’t seem to appreciate that point as he should.

“Now what I want to ask is this: For our protection, will you keep a very close watch on Ryan? I mean stay with him at all times. Don’t let him out of your sight a moment, for he may see or talk to someone who will tip the whole thing off. Don’t let him shake you under any circumstances. And don’t let him suspect that you are watching him. Now I will be very busy for the next few days, but I will ’phone you at least once a day and you report to me if everything is going nicely. If Ryan gets out of hand, just let me know and I’ll be right up and give him a talking to. By the way, could you get him to share your room?”

Here it is sometimes customary to shift the mark to another hotel. The insideman suggests a quiet and obscure hotel where they will be safe from the newspaper reporters who are in and out of the lobby of the big hotel. The mark induces the roper to move with him and they stay together until the mark is trimmed.

“Perhaps I could,” says Fink, “but I’m not anxious for that much of his company.”

“Well, it is for the best interests of all of us,” says Lamster. “And I know that you can arrange it without making him suspicious. Now, I’ll see you at the bank at nine in the morning.”

Although Mr. Fink has no inkling of it, the “switch” is now complete. His confidence has been transferred from Mr. Ryan to Mr. Lamster and the tie-up is complete. From now on he won’t let Ryan out of his sight. This may be a little hard on the nerves of Mr. Ryan for stormy times are ahead, but it leaves Mr. Lamster free to handle other marks whom other ropers are bringing into the store for a play. And, lest we feel too sorry for Mr. Ryan, his nerves are strong. He has been through this many times before.

That night Fink persuades Ryan to check out of his suite and share a room. Ryan isn’t particularly interested, but Fink points out that they may be there some time and it will be much more economical. Ryan finally agrees. They move in together and the eagle eye of Mr. Fink misses no move which might be interpreted adversely. Most of all, he tries to keep Ryan from coming in contact with outsiders. Mr. Ryan, who knows just how far to excite his suspicions so that he will not become bored with his vigil, seems to be always just on the verge of telling the whole plan to some stranger.

Next morning at nine they meet at the bank. Mr. Lamster seems to be well known there. He waits upon the president, introduces his companions, and explains that both these men want to have some assets transferred from up north as quickly as possible. The president is most obliging, for he receives a commission on whatever Mr. Fink will yield.

He has both Ryan and Fink make out checks for the amount they want transferred. Ryan signs his for $17,000
and Fink for $25,000. Mr. Lamster leaves his own personal check for $8,000. The banker assures them that he will open their accounts as soon as the money arrives.

The monotonous period of the “tie-up” now continues. Mr. Ryan, who shows increasing tendencies toward irresponsibility, is subject to the most rigorous examination. All his motives are suspect. Every move he makes is watched by Mr. Fink, who reports once a day to Mr. Lamster. Fink comes to feel that he and he alone stands between Mr. Lamster and disastrous publicity. Ryan talks mostly about the $256,000 they are going to split. He wants to go out and paint the town red. Fink trembles when he thinks of what a few well-placed drinks might do. They eat in their room. They sleep in their room. They read magazines. It is much safer if Fink does not see the newspapers.

Fink experiences half-day periods of elation during which he anticipates strongly the money they are to make; these are followed by periods of worry and depression. He alternates between feelings of warm, cozy security and the cold, clammy fear that all will be lost. This thing isn’t real. Yet it is, painfully real. He conjures up all sorts of things which might go wrong with their scheme. He grows concerned because his money does not come right away. He froths and fumes at Mr. Ryan, whose job it is to answer tactfully all his questions and allay all his fears—without seeming to do so.

When he gets too nervous, or when Mr. Ryan’s nerves fray, Mr. Lamster visits the room briefly to assure him that everything is working out all right. Fink reports on Ryan, who gets a good, sound talking-to. Mr. Lamster explains the workings of his syndicate and how the horsegamblers are being beaten. But Mr. Lamster is having troubles of his own now in Miami. He has to lie low because the reporters are hounding him. If they locate him and write him up, his game in Miami is done. Otherwise
everything is fine and he will soon make a huge killing. And Mr. Fink mustn’t worry because the banker will notify Mr. Lamster just as soon as the money comes through. Fink looks forward to these visits from Lamster; they always make him feel better. This situation may continue for anywhere from several days to several weeks. Let us mercifully end this tie-up after a week.

The bank sends word that Mr. Ryan’s money has come. Then Mr. Fink’s. Mr. Lamster suggests that they go down to the bank to see if everything is O.K. They do. Everything is in good order. The account is opened in Mr. Ryan’s name, since both the betting slip and the check are already in his name. Fink now sticks closer than ever to Ryan, for nothing must happen to that money.

Then all three men go to the Turf Club. Mr. Lamster waits outside. Fink and Ryan go in. The play still goes merrily on. Mr. Fink recognizes some of the customers. Some of the faces are new. But all are playing with money at a scandalous rate. They ask for the manager. They wait. And they wait. The telephone buzzes incessantly. The sheet-writer takes bets over the ’phone for tremendous sums. Prominent names in the sporting world go with them. Business proceeds with smooth precision and breath-taking speed. Everyone studiously ignores them. More delays.

Then the manager sees them. He does not remember them. He has to identify their bet. He apologizes, but he just can’t keep so much in his mind. He calls for the familiar file.

“That clears it up,” he says. “Now, I suppose you gentlemen want to take up your check?”

“That’s right,” says Mr. Ryan. “I now have the cash in the bank to cover it. Do you want to call at the bank to verify it?”

“My dear man, I’d think you would see that I can’t get away from here during business hours. Of course, I can’t
go with you to the bank. You bring the money here, our cashier will check it and then you will be paid off.”

“But $50,000 is a lot of cash to carry around on the street.”

“Well, that is your look-out. I think it will be safe to bring it over here. Just show it at the cashier’s window and our man will check it. Good day, gentlemen, I am very busy.”

The buzzing ’phone on his desk emphasizes this remark forcibly.

Fink and Ryan go outside and report to Mr. Lamster, who has waited in a conveniently sheltered doorway. He agrees that this is the proper procedure. They all go to the bank and draw $50,000. The banker offers them a little satchel to carry it in. Mr. Fink takes charge of it just to be sure that nothing happens. Although Mr. Fink does not suspect it, an armed tailer follows them from the door of the bank to the entrance of the big store.

When they arrive at the Turf Club Mr. Ryan takes over the money, for he must show the cash. Mr. Fink is in a cold sweat. Just as they are about to enter, Mr. Lamster produces a telegram from his pocket. “It is Jitterbug in the fourth race at 3–1,” he says, and quickly puts the telegram in his pocket.

Mr. Fink sees a fortune within his grasp. They have the money. They will soon be paid more. With his share on Jitterbug …

“Last flash,” says the caller and chalks busily.

This time Mr. Lamster goes in with them. They go to the cashier. Mr. Ryan lays out the $50,000, explaining what they want. The cashier rings for the manager. It is O.K. The cashier begins to count out the $256,000. Mr. Ryan presents his slip. The cashier pushes stacks of bills at Mr. Ryan, who can hardly keep track of the rapidly growing piles. Mr. Fink’s scalp is tight and his palms itch.

“Why don’t you place it all on Jitterbug?” asks Mr.
Lamster over Mr. Fink’s shoulder. “The fourth race is up.”

“That’s a good idea,” says Mr. Ryan, and shoves all the money back to the cashier. “Put it all on Jitterbug to win,” says he and turns away, shaky and nervous. Fink is stunned by the speed with which it happened. But it is the right thing to do. Lamster was right. A delicious prickly sensation spreads over him. The beads of perspiration stand out on his brow; his collar chokes him; a bottomless pit yawns in his stomach. He knows how it feels to play with big money.

The cashier writes out a slip calling for $1,020,000 if Jitterbug wins.

“They’re off!” says the caller.

Mr. Ryan turns immediately to Mr. Lamster, showing him the ticket. “My God! man,” exclaims Lamster, “you bet this horse to win. I said
place.
That horse will run second.”

Mr. Fink thinks he is going to faint.

Mr. Lamster grabs the ticket, buttonholes the manager who is just passing and pleads with him to change the ticket to place instead of win. The manager is firm. Lamster begs frantically. But it is no use. Jitterbug places.

Mr. Lamster seizes Ryan by the throat. “You dumb s—– of a b—–!” he says. He shakes Ryan like a rat.
*
The manager tries to step between them. He apologizes for causing the trouble, but protests that he couldn’t change the bet after the horses were running.

Mr. Fink’s senses are beginning to return. He sees Mr. Ryan struggling and protesting in Lamster’s iron grip. They reel back and forth against a sea of cigar smoke and startled faces. A murky red fog settles over everything.

“He ruined me too,” shouts Fink. “Let me at him! He ruined me. Oh, he ruined me.” He lashes out wildly at Mr. Ryan. The manager and the cashier step in and try to stop his wild lunges. “You
will
lose my money!” he shrieks, and breaks away from the men who are restraining him, picks up a metal chair and charges at the struggling men, swinging it over his head. Lamster is still shaking and cursing Ryan, who now begs for his life. Fink has a glimpse of Lamster’s white face, distorted with rage, his eyes bulging. He catches the glint of a pistol in Lamster’s hand. Lamster breaks from Ryan and backs up a step. The heavy report stops Fink in his tracks, the chair poised awkwardly over his head. Ryan is on the floor, gasping. Fink lowers the chair and gazes at Ryan, who twists and groans. Mr. Fink, appalled and fascinated, steps closer. A stream of blood spurts from Ryan’s mouth, spattering Fink’s face and shirt. He feels it, warm and slippery, on him. The spectators close in. Lamster is in action. Fink feels himself hurled through the onlookers. They are in the street. Lamster rushes him into a cab. They hurry to the hotel.