Long White Con: The Biggest Score of His Life (7 page)

Folks stood up, bags in hand. He said, “Well, gentlemen, good-bye and good luck.”

Folks shook hands with them.

The sucker nodded toward the ashtray and said, “My boy, I’ve just had good luck to remember a lifetime!”

Folks left to supervise a grifter crew to dismantle the ghost town and truck it into the mob’s warehouse until they caught the next mark to play.

F
olks went straight home after the crew had disappeared the ghost town. Pearl was delighted to see him back from the L.A. trip so soon. Folks thought, she owes her delight, of course, to the Kid’s tear up in the blow-off. It made it unnecessary to keep Stilwell tied up in town until his score instrument cleared.

That early evening he undelighted Pearl. Speedy and Janie were in for whist. Pearl and he were beating squawking hell out of them for the first time in a month. Then Folks’ apprehension about Pappy Kid soured their fortunes. Folks played several successive hands like a novice. He wasn’t, and Pearl knew it. They started yapping at each other. Janie and Speedy, of course, started having fun by skunking them soundly.

Folks thought, Pappy is booked to put Stilwell on an eight-thirty plane for the Midwest. I’m worried. He remembered the fatal propensities of Mister Stilwell and decided he had to be present. Not really present, he thought, but within reasonable proximity, until the mark is blown off on that plane.

Pearl gave him an odd look when he announced he was breaking up the card party to catch some air. To immunize his dear, precious Pearl from a tail-spin into an attack of her chronic illness, he invited Speedy to tag along. On the way out, he picked up his binoculars from a table near the door.

He drove Pearl’s Mercury for a change. Since I’m back to my normal blond image, the mark can’t recognize me just like that, he thought. Folks knew the Kid was sticking to the mark like Elmer’s Glue, and most likely keeping the mark close to the environs of his hotel until plane time. He parked in the hotel parking lot and scouted a bit. Sure enough, Kid and the mark were in the hotel coffee shop. He went back and pulled out to a parking spot across the street from the coffee shop’s plate glass window. His Patek Phillippe read seven-forty-five
P.M.

Within five minutes they came out to the cab stand with a bellman and Stilwell’s luggage. He and Speedy followed them to the airport. Speedy stayed in the Mercury near the terminal entrance.

Folks was confident the mark couldn’t recognize him. That is, he thought, unless I promenaded for him long enough to top my gait. He followed them to the second floor, at maybe a twenty-five yard range, until they reached the waiting section for upcoming departures. He went to the john adjacent to the pre-boarding section. He glanced out the window overlooking the field. The mark’s plane was easing toward the embarkation tunnel on the side of the building.

He decided to risk close proximity. He took a seat in the crowded cattle pen room directly behind Stilwell. This is fun with my back almost touching the mark’s, Folks thought.

The Kid gave him a dirty look for screwing around like that. Kid knew, of course, why Folks had shown up. He always pretended to be turned off by any sentimentality or protective emotional action from his bosom friends.

The clerk behind his box picked up a mike and announced, “Flight 56 now ready for boarding of passengers for Chicago, Peoria and Muncie, Indiana.”

Kid and the mark stood up, shook hands and embraced. Folks was sure he should have stayed with his woman’s whist to keep the peace.

The mark said, “I’ll never forget you, Jimmy. I hate to say good-bye.”

Kid said, “It isn’t good-bye, Cecil. I’ll fly out to Muncie for some of that fabulous cuisine at your restaurants that you so delightfully boast about.”

The mark moved with the tide and said, “That’s a wonderful idea, Jimmy. Do it soon!”

Kid said, “Soon, laddie, soon!”

Before the mark was absorbed into the crunch of departees, he turned and waved a final goodbye. Folks thought it was good-bye.

Kid said to Folks, ventriloquist style, “You lop-eared jack-off!”

Sweet old guy, the Kid, Folks thought as they went to a newsstand across the corridor for cigars and cigarettes. They made their purchases and turned away. Folks turned back to the newspaper rack to take evening papers to Pearl and Speedy, tossed the exact coins on the counter for the clerk and glanced at the headline as he joined Kid.

“Detente Threatened,”
it read.

It was the morning paper with that bold type in a square designation at the top of the front page. He said something to Kid about passe morning news as he went back for the evening paper.

The clerk noticed him rummaging the rack. He said, “Sorry sir, delivery of the evening paper is fouled up.”

The clerk returned his coins. He collided with a winsome stewardess, apparently late for her flight. She tossed what looked like an airlines voucher on the counter and snatched up magazines and most of the morning papers.

The clerk turned from a customer and, as he picked up the voucher, started to shout at the stewardess. He shrugged as he decided it was useless. She had raced through the departure pen across the corridor into the door leading to the ramp.

The clerk glanced at Folks and muttered, “What the diff? Her customers can’t beef about stale morning news. She’s giving it away.”

It hit Folks! He shoved Kid and said, “Get to Speedy in Pearl’s Mercury out front! That late stewardess is taking the morning paper on flight 56.” Kid ashened and said, “I can’t believe this!” He moved out
and down the corridor as Folks double-timed it down the corridor to the window of the john overlooking the field. He zeroed in on the interior of the flight 56 bird with his binoculars.

The mark was sitting relaxed in his seat. His head was thrown back on the headrest cushion. His eyes were closed. He didn’t move, just opened his eyes when the stewardess reached him with her handouts. He smiled up at her and waved off her offer and she went down the aisle. He started to close his eyes, then he opened them and called her back. She gave him a paper and went down the aisle.

Stilwell casually flipped the newspaper open. He spread it across his lap and he stared down at it. His face transformed into maniacal rage as he leapt to his feet. His teeth flashed like fangs when he screamed. The mark was brainstorming, all right. The tumblers of the swindle had clicked into place inside his head.

He charged down the aisle in pursuit of the stewardess as the startled stewardess turned to face him. He snatched a newspaper from her and held it very close to his face as he stared at it. Then he hurled the newspaper into the aisle and snatched another newspaper. He stared at it and waggled his head furiously, then sailed the paper into the air and the aircraft started to taxi. Stilwell’s teeth flashed as he hollered something.

He hurtled down the aisle past mesmerized passengers to the front exit door where a burly male flight attendant blocked his path. With the skill and violence of the ex-all American guard that he was, he linebacked the steward away to his fanny on the floor, slammed his fist down on the door lock and jumped through the opened door.

He hit the ground and tumbled before he regained his feet and charged wildly across the field toward the terminal building. He was obviously in pursuit of Pappy!

Folks bolted from the john. It took him only seconds to reach the first floor main corridor. He spotted Cecil bulling his way through alarmed people, bowling several over as he grenaded his thirteens
toward the street exit. Folks reached the sidewalk seconds behind him. Speedy was just pulling from the curb.

The mark spotted Kid. He raced alongside the Mercury and bellowed, “You cocksucker! You swindled me! I’ll kill you!”

He leapt to the hood and smashed his fists against the windshield. Speedy turned sharply and the mark skittered off the hood onto the street. A mob of city and airport police descended on the mark.

Folks watched Speedy accelerate the Mercury out of sight, then he got a cab for Kid’s place. The Kid and Speedy were cool as the snow they were snorting when he joined them. He horned in for a couple of sparkling rows.

Kid lit one of his Corona Corona’s, blew a gust of powder blue smoke and said, “Laddie, the police are putting that goniff through the wringer. But he’ll convince them that he has a legit complaint. I just completed a call to Captain Ellis. He’s expecting you.”

Kid took an envelope from a pocket of his silk lounging robe and gave it to Folks.

He said, “Get this ten percent of the score end to the captain quickly . . . before that mark can beef officially.”

Folks left immediately and went to the apartment house cab stand. Fifteen minutes later, a uniformed cop showed him into Captain Ellis’ office. The graying captain of bunco was sitting behind his ornate desk in the well-appointed office, sipping coffee. Folks walked to the front of his desk.

He smiled his barracuda smile. “Congratulations! Glad to see you escaped great bodily harm.”

Folks said, “Thank you, Captain Ellis. But the situation never really got out of hand at the airport.”

Folks reached into his coat pocket to extract the pay-off envelope. He leaned toward the captain and placed it on the desk top. The captain ignored the envelope.

Folks said, “There’s Kid’s full premium . . . ten percent of ninety thousand dollars . . . for the Stilwell coverage.”

The captain took a sip of coffee and dabbed a linen handkerchief against his heavy lips before he said, “I don’t know about that. Perhaps I shouldn’t issue a policy on Stilwell for ten percent.”

Folks said, “Captain, if you up your share, it’s gonna bruise the score.”

He smiled. “Bruise the score, or kick it back to Stilwell! I want fifteen percent!”

Folks said, “But Captain, I’m not qualified to make a decision like that.”

He leaned back and said, “Wonder, you’re much too modest. You’re qualified to know that a con store is like a house of wax. It can’t survive strong heat without a strong fix!”

Folks said, “But Captain, Mr. Stilwell has blown off his heavy steam.”

The captain leaned his massive frame toward Folks with his eyes flickering green flame. He half whispered, “Don’t play the con for me, Wonder. I knew what happened at the airport five minutes after it blew. Even the Vicksburg Kid couldn’t blow that mark off. That mark is hot enough to fry this administration! Face it! I could demand fifty percent of the score and deserve it. I’m the only one qualified now who can blow him off.”

Folks said, “Well Captain, I don’t have your five percent puff up. Sure, you’re worth it, Captain Ellis, but I’ll have to expose the Kid to your logic.”

The phone rang. Captain Ellis picked up and said, “Yes . . . yes . . .”

He stared up at Folks as he listened. He said, “Yes, Officer Tate! Go on . . .”

He leaned back in his chair, reached into his baroque humidor and extracted an imported Panatella. He said, “Wonder, light my cigar.”

Folks smiled as he went around the desk and flicked his lighter flame to Ellis’ cigar tip as he listened on the phone with a “rapist laid the virgin” look.

Folks said, “Captain, we’re lucky to have a stand-up friend like you.”

He frowned him silent. Ellis said, “All right! Give me ten minutes, Officer Tate, before you bring Stilwell in.”

He hung up and said, “Mr. Stilwell has indicated a determination to beef past me, should I fail to satisfy his lust for justice. This is bad! I can only see a kickback of the score to Stilwell, or indictments, unless I blow-off that mark. I want twenty percent of the score.”

Folks said, “Captain, you’re great! Just priceless! So, you got your twenty percent! Captain, no disrespect, but may I be excused before you wind up with the long end of the score?”

The captain blew a mote of cigar ash off the sleeve of his five C-note suit. His five carat ring shot light like a swarm of fireflies. He chuckled, “You’re a charmer, Utah Wonder. I like you.”

Folks said, “I’m fond of you too, Captain. Any chance I get the exclusive right to light all of your cigars?”

He said evenly, “I’ll expect you here before noon tomorrow.”

Folks nodded and smiled as he left the office for the street. He stood in the neon thicket looking for a cab, whistled at one that was in hire. A pastel fox, in a pink Excalibur, flushed from the thicket. Christina Buckmeister pulled to the curb in front of him. She waggled a long, tapered finger his way.

She swung the Excalibur door open, his side. Her eyes were slumberous, beclouded with vulva steam and he got in. She threw her head back and laughed with joy. He saw her nostrils were frosted with crystal blow dust. She sucked his bottom lip.

He thought, what the hell. Why not punish this come freak with my ten inch whip?

Behind them, on the sidewalk, one of Captain Ellis’ bunco detectives stared at them with a surprised and thoughtful look on his corrugated face. He went into Captain Ellis’ office, reported the scene he’d witnessed and left the office.

Captain Ellis went through a familiar routine. He swiveled his
chair to remove a folder fat with Canadian dossiers and mug shots from a file case behind his desk bearing the caption
Vicksburg Kid And Associates.
Captain Ellis put it into his desk drawer and locked it. He turned back to the file-case and extracted folders and mug shots of deceased and imprisoned con men. He placed them on the desk before him.

Officer Tate escorted Stilwell into the office. The captain slipped on his commiserating blow-off-the-mark mask as Officer Tate deposited Stilwell into a chair at the side of the desk. The captain smiled and leaned to give Stilwell’s hand an energetic shake reserved for transient V.I.P.’s and city hall nabobs. The captain lit a cigar as Stilwell started his fruitless search of the mug shots.

C
hristina lit a stick of gangster for them. Folks studied her perfect profile, her breeze-flogged hair streamed like golden bunting as she hustled the Excalibur through the moil of cars and people to the outskirts of the city. He marveled at her sorcerous resemblance, under the soft glow of the night sky, to Camille Costain, the alabaster Chicago witch with the kinky sexual hang-ups with rain and the psychic maim as keys to the penultimate sexual gratification. He remembered again how Camille had tortured him, driven him to near madness before she dumped him.