Long White Con: The Biggest Score of His Life (6 page)

The mark said, “Seventy-five!”

Kate bid, “Eighty!”

The mark bid, “Eighty-five!”

Kate took out a sheaf of prop checks and currency. She examined the boodle with a worried face.

She said weakly, “I bid eighty-nine.”

Stilwell beamed and shouted, “I bid ninety thousand!”

Kate turned away disconsolately.

Kid banged the horseshoe and waved a deed. “Once, twice, thrice. The ghost town and its goods are yours for ninety thousand dollars, Mister Stilwell . . . if you have that purchase price in cash or its equivalent.”

Stilwell snatched out a billfold. He waved a check and a sheaf of currency. He said, “I have here, Mister Dancing Rain, my certified instrument for seventy-five thousand. I’ll make it payable to you. I also have an additional fifteen thousand in cash.”

Kid said, “All right Mister Stilwell. Step up here and get your bill of sale and we’ll set the other papers of transfer into motion.”

Trevor, Kate and Folks left the stable. Instantly, they were drowned in blinding light. The two uniformed grifter troopers pulled up before the stable and switched off the spotlight. They got out and pretended to chat with the mob. Shortly, Kid and the mark came from the stable.

One of the troopers said to Kid, “Mister Dancing Rain, we contacted that physician. An ambulance should arrive any moment.”

Kid said, “Thank you very much, but it’s too late. Billy passed away.”

The trooper said, “Mike, get on the horn and get a coroner’s wagon out here.”

His partner went to the cruiser.

Folks said to the mark, “Congratulations, Cecil, and thanks for your generosity to me.”

He said, “I’m very fond of you, Alex.”

F
olks said to Trevor, “Well, Mister Lee, let’s pack in the fluoroscope and get back to the city. I’ll have a truck sent out here first thing in the morning to get my lady.”

Two hours later they assembled in the hotel suite. The mark was jumpy as hell, and obviously eager for the others to leave. The mark compulsively glanced at his wristwatch as he yawned elaborately.

Folks visualized the scene at that moment at the ghost town. The grifter troopers, the fake detective and Marvel had removed the state police decals from the cruiser. They had loaded the Chevy and cruiser with the prop fortune crammed into the duffel bags and were on their way back to the city.

The mark frowned as he studied the dial of his watch. Kid ran an index finger down the crease in his trousers to signal split time. Kate rose and stifled a yawn.

She said, “Thank you, Mister Stilwell, for a pleasant time.”

She walked over to the mark as Kid got to feet.

Kate smiled into the mark’s face. She said, “I think you’re such a lovable man, Cecil, despite your winning bid for that lovely ghost town.”

The mark took Kate’s hand and pressed the back of it against his cheek. He said, “My dear, now I am sincerely sorry I bid you out. I
have your card, if and when I decide to sell that ghost town, and you shall be the first notified.”

She said, “Thank you, Cecil.”

She shook his hand and moved away for the door. Kid shook Stilwell’s hand and followed Kate from the suite. Folks rose to his feet and stretched himself drowsily.

He said, “Cecil, I’m bushed. Goodnight.”

Stilwell said, “Sleep well, Alex.”

Folks went toward his bedroom, and Stilwell suddenly stopped him.

He said, “Alex, may I have a moment?”

Folks read the greed in his eyes as he turned to face him.

He said, “Alex, I, uh, well, our deal for that parcel. When will your Mister Lee get to Indiana to appraise it?”

Folks smiled as he extracted a packet of mail from his jacket pocket. The mark had seen him pick up his mail at the desk on their way up from the ghost town. What he didn’t know was that Kid had sent the packet, including a crisp fake telegram. Folks removed the telegram from the envelope and extended it to Stilwell.

He said, “Cecil, read this.”

Stilwell took it, and stared down at it. A broad smile blossomed on his face.

He chortled, “You’re a sly one, bless your heart! Mister Lee has already left for Indiana to evaluate and expedite our deal. What a beautiful meeting of minds!”

He seized Folks in a warm embrace. Then Folks went into his bedroom thinking the mark’s greed made him deserve everything he was getting. After all, he intended to shaft Folks for four times the fair market value of his white elephant parcel of land.

Two hours later, Folks heard the mark stirring. He peeped through the key hole and saw that he was fully dressed at the front door. He had a furtive, excited look on his face in the half dark. He very carefully opened the door, eased himself through the door and very quietly pulled it shut.

Folks picked up the bedroom phone and called the tailers across the hall. One of them picked up. He told him to call in a report on the mark’s actions as frequently as was possible. Fifteen minutes later, Kid called. They could predict the mark’s thinking at this point, so they planned the choreography of the mark’s blow-off in some detail.

Forty-five minutes later one of the tailers called in. He said, “I went in on foot to eye that egg. He came in with a camper he’d rented and a brand new shovel. You would’ve busted your guts laughing at that lopear when he dug down to nothing. He just stood there beaming a flashlight into the empty hole. Then he screamed like his putz was in a vise. He almost wrecked the camper coming out and he gave a couple of trooper cruisers the twice over coming in, just like he should. He’s convinced our troopers burned him for the stash. He’s on his way downtown in a cab. Sweet blow-off! Toodle-oo, Wonder.”

Shortly, the mark showed back. Folks heard him anguishing about. Folks went into a deep slumber bit when he heard him approach his door. The mark eased it open and just stood there. Christ! This is eerie, Folks thought. And dangerous! I know that a guy with his documented malice, under stress, could brainstorm and try to do me maximal harm if the tumblers of the swindle accidently clicked into place inside his head. I couldn’t really win a death bout with him. Say I managed to kill him, my purse would be the death house. But the mark shut the door.

Folks soundlessly locked the door. He had selected the suite in a wing of the hotel that gave visual access to the lobby. He put high-powered binoculars to his eyes and saw Kid sitting casually, smoking a cigarette in the moderately crowded lobby. He was gazing across the lobby through a window at the early morning crunch of workers scampering to their jobs.

A morning newspaper delivery truck pulled to the curb outside the hotel. The delivery man leapt from the cab of the truck with a bundle of papers, then went to the concession stand. He placed his
bundle of newspapers into a rack adjacent to the concession stand, then carried a surplus of three newspapers away under his arm as he came across the lobby on his way to the exit.

Kid snapped his fingers at the passing delivery man. The delivery man rolled one of the papers quickly as he turned and took the paper to Kid in exchange for a coin, then turned away. Kid spread the legitimate newspaper across his knees. Folks watched Kid take their prop newspaper from his coat pocket.

Then his binoculars followed Kid as he flung the legit newspaper into a trash can. He moved across the lobby and went to the newspaper rack at the concession stand. A young female clerk smiled at him behind the counter as Kid plucked several cigars from a box. At the same time, his other hand slipped the prop newspaper into the newspaper rack atop the pile. Then Kid placed money on the counter. He turned his head and snapped his fingers.

A bellboy came to Kid’s side beside the newspaper rack. Kid pulled his prop newspaper from the rack and folded the headlines inside. Then he snapped a rubber band about the rolled paper, gave it, and a dollar bill to the bellboy. Kid purchased all the morning newspapers and went through the front door. He was going to shred them and dump them into an alley trash bin.

The blow-off was in motion! Folks waited to hear the doorbell chime. Five minutes later, he heard the chimes. He cracked the door as the mark opened the front door.

The bellboy said, “Mister Remington’s morning paper, sir.”

The mark took the paper and slammed the door in his face. He opened the newspaper and scrutinized it as Folks eyed him from his bed. The mark came toward him and sat on the side of the bed. Folks shifted so his face was turned away. His breathing was heavy and deep as he faked sleep. He shook Folks’ shoulder and Folks stirred and groaned. He turned, with cloudy eyes, to face the mark.

He said, “What’s going on, Cecil?”

Cecil spread out the newspaper on the bed. Folks propped himself up on an elbow as he studied the front page.

He read aloud, “
State troopers quizzed in theft of ghost town millions . . . ten millions recovered in ravine. Troopers blame a mysterious nocturnal group for theft of secret hoard. Murdered Aztec Billy is suspected of the multiple murders of mining cronies during the past thirty years in Mexico and in Nevada. Robbery is theorized as the motive for the series of homicide.”

Then, he paused to read the bold print of a related item. “
At his interrogation, fifteen thousand dollars in cash was confiscated from Jimmy Dancing Rain, brother of deceased Aztec Billy, by Treasury Department agents.”

Cecil snarled, “Those rotten, crooked state police! I could kill them!”

Folks leapt to his feet. He went to the closet and pulled out his bags. He started to speed dress as the mark stared at him with jaws loose.

He said, “Alex! What on earth are you doing?”

Folks said, “Going home! I’ve got a respectable reputation and family to protect. You can be certain, Cecil, the government is going to root out and smear everybody’s name connected to those millions of dollars and a murder victim!”

Cecil sat on the edge of the bed with a shocked look on his face as he removed the phony quit claim deed and bill of sale for Kid’s set-up ghost town. He balled up and crushed the documents in his fists.

He said, “I better call today and stop payment on that check I gave Jimmy for the ghost town.”

Folks rushed to face him. He said, “Cecil! Compose yourself! You can’t stop payment on a check for seventy-five thousand dollars without drawing dangerous attention. Furthermore, you’re mangling your ninety-thousand-dollar receipt.”

Cecil opened his fists and stared at the crumpled documents in his palm. He said, “You really think Jimmy Dancing Rain would refund my ninety thousand . . . with all this trouble?”

Folks took the documents. He ironed them flat on the bed with his palms, then he slipped them into his coat pocket. He leaned down into Cecil’s face and said, “You’re unbelievable, Cecil!”

Stilwell said, “What?”

Folks said, “I can’t understand why you don’t understand, as I understand that Jimmy Dancing Rain is a fine gentleman of integrity. I’m catching the first plane to Connecticut.”

Folks finished dressing and packing loose odds and ends. Cecil followed him around the room.

He said, “Alex, maybe it would be smart for me to leave, too . . . after I see Jimmy.”

Folks said, “Cecil, do that so I can fly to Indiana next week to close our deal.”

They heard the insistent chimes of the doorbell and Stilwell said, “I hope that’s Jimmy!”

He hurried to the door and opened it to Kid. Kid stepped in and slammed shut the door behind him. He had a sad, forlorn expression on his face.

The mark said, “It’s doomsday, Jimmy!”

He shoved the prop newspaper toward Kid. Kid took it and shoved it into his pocket.

Kid said, “I read it. My brother a murderer. The government has impounded Billy’s millions.”

The mark said, “You have my sympathy, Jimmy, but I’ve got big troubles, too!”

Kid put his arm around Stilwell’s shoulder. He said, “Of course you have, Cecil.”

Kid led the mark to a seat on the sofa. Folks followed and sat down with them.

Kid said, “The troubled must protect and comfort one another. Now, Cecil, in a calm way tell me how I can help you?”

The mark babbled, “I’m . . . a . . . respectable father and husband back home. I’m a thirty-third degree Mason. I’m the biggest, most
respected citizen there is in Muncie, Indiana. I can’t afford to wreck my image, my family, with notoriety or scandal! My connection with murder through our deal . . . I . . . ah, well, oh Jimmy!”

Kid said, “Cecil, I can protect you. After all, I am at this moment the legal owner of record of the ghost town. I was interviewed by two treasury agents for hours. I had to come to you as immediately as I safely could to relieve your mind.”

The mark said, “Jimmy, you mean you didn’t mention my name to them?”

Kid said, “Certainly not, Cecil!”

Tears brimmed in the mark’s eyes. “Oh thank you so much, Jimmy. Now, about our ghost town deal . . . I . . . uh . . .”

Kid patted his shoulder and said, “Your worries are over, Cecil.”

Kid extracted the mark’s seventy-five thousand dollar instrument from his shirt pocket. He waved it, face up, before the mark’s eyes to verify authenticity. Kid turned and leaned forward toward the coffee table, his back momentarily blocked the mark’s field of vision. Kid palmed the real check and slipped it into his jacket breast pocket. He slipped out, from the same pocket, a replica of the mark’s check. Then Kid leaned back on the sofa to unobstruct the sucker’s field of vision. He tore the prop check to confetti that fell into a large ashtray. The mark flung himself across the sofa to embrace the Kid like an amorous elephant while Kid massaged the mark’s shoulders.

Kid said, “Cecil, I gave my lawyer your address in Muncie and instructed him to send your confiscated fifteen thousand in cash within thirty days. He has assured me that the government can’t keep it.”

The mark said, “Jimmy, you’re a beautiful friend!”

Kid disengaged himself. He said, “Now Cecil, our final ceremony. My deed and bill of sale.”

The mark reached into his coat pocket and extracted the battered deed and bill of sale. He extended them to Kid, who took them and shredded them into the ashtray.