Pulp Crime
Page 454
“We’ll use the cackle bladder,” I said. “I’ve got a new poke already made, and I’ll send it over to you. I’ll get a suite at that hotel, and you can bring him up right after lunch tomorrow.” And then I said slowly, “No mistakes, though, Joe. The gang all thinks nobody can take Lou’s place, and we’ve got to show them how wrong they are.”
“Lou,” Joe said, “was a piker and an amateur.”
I got the best suite in the house, and I was sitting in it the next afternoon, smoking a dollar cigar, when they rapped at the door.
I went to the door and opened it. I said, “Well?” sounding annoyed.
Joe said, “Are you Mr. Walters?”
“And what if I am? I suppose you—you gentlemen are reporters?”
“No, sir,” Joe said.
“Well then, speak your piece. You’re selling something? A man purchases privacy, you know, when—”
“You’ve got us wrong,” Joe said. “We’re here to return something of yours, Mr. Walters, something we found in the dining room.” He had the poke I’d sent over yesterday.
I threw the door wide open. “Gentlemen,” I said, “forgive me. You’ve found my wallet.”
While I said this, I was sizing up the mark. He must have been about twenty-six, a scrubbed-looking guy in a neat blue suit. He sure didn’t look like forty grand to me.
“I think it’s your wallet,” Joe said. “You’d be willing to identify it, of course, Mr. Walters.”
“A few hundred dollars,” I said, “and some membership cards. One for the Pegasus Club, one for the Civic Betterment Club, a couple telegrams, and”—here I paused—“and a code sheet.”
Joe nodded and handed it over. “Correct, in all details. Mr. Walters, this is a recent acquaintance of mine, Mr. George Apple. And my name is Delsing, Carlton Delsing.”
I shook their hands. “It’s a distinct pleasure and a memorable occasion,” I said. “I insist you have a drink on me.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Joe said, and Mr. Apple nodded and sat down. He wasn’t missing a thing; he watched me like I was the president.
When I handed them their drinks, Joe said, “There was one thing you forgot to mention, Mr. Walters. You mustn’t be so modest.”
I looked blank.
“That newspaper clipping in your wallet,” Joe went on. “It described you as the Pittsburgh Phil of our era, the greatest plunger the track has ever known.”
“Oh, that,” I said. “You mustn’t believe everything you read, Mr. Delsing.” I smiled at him. “Income tax, you know. The less publicity, the better.”
The mark sort of stirred in his chair. “You mean—this money you win isn’t taxable? I mean, it really is, but you don’t declare it. Isn’t that dishonest, Mr. Walters?”
That wasn’t good. A guy should have a little larceny in him to make the perfect mark. There’s an old saw that you can’t cheat an honest man. But this was important, this fish, and I barged ahead.
“Dishonest?” I said. “I have certain expenses, and the possibility of loss in other lines. Is it dishonest to build up a reserve against that contingency, Mr. Apple?”
“Well, no,” he said. “I see what you mean. I’m all for the private enterprise system, myself, Mr. Walters, and I know that we have to protect ourselves against government greed, but, well, I mean—”
“We aren’t under the private enterprise system at present, Mr. Apple,” I told him coolly. “But there’ll be a change, one of these days. There’s got to be a change, or the system is dead.” I sighed. “I don’t worry about myself. I’ve made mine. This track plunging is a sort of hobby with me. It’s the young people I worry about, the young lads with gumption enough to go out on their own.”
He sort of flushed, as though I’d been talking about him, which I had.
I smiled at him and said, “What’s your line of business, Mr. Apple?”
“Well, nothing right now.” He sure was an easy blusher. “I came out of the service and bought some land in the Everglades. I put it all into celery, and I—well, I did all right. I put away forty thousand dollars in three years, and then decided to come up to Kansas City and get into business here. Mom’s waiting down in Florida until I can get established up here.”
“Beautiful climate, Florida,” I said.
He nodded. “I liked it. But it’s kind of hot for Mom in the summer, and that’s one reason I’m moving north. If I don’t find what I want here, I’m going up to St. Paul.”
“Forty thousand of risk capital,” I said, “is a nice little sum for a young man to have, and a war veteran to boot. You’re one of a kind I thought was missing in America these days, Mr. Apple.”
“I’ve always made my own way,” he said, and looked at his hands. “I don’t mind work, but I sure hate a time clock.” Now Joe came in. “Speaking of risk capital, Mr. Walters, I guess you’ve found a way to take the risk out of it.”
I gave him a knowing smile. “I don’t quite understand you, Mr. Delsing.”
“That code sheet,” Joe said. “I’m no gambler, but I’ve played the ponies enough to know a code tip when I see one.”
“You’re an astute young man, Mr. Delsing,” I said. “Have a cigar.”
He shook his head, and Mr. Apple declined, and I changed the subject. “I was in Washington just last month on some legislation and . . .”
I went on and on, tossing the big names around, giving this punk a picture of corruption and finagling that was bound to turn his stomach. A veteran, see, and still with some old-fashioned ideas in him, and I had to make him see it wasn’t cheating, keeping the money out of the hands of those power-mad, greedy, corrupt officials.
I had to get him partly on our side of the fence and make him forget mama, sweltering down in Florida. I had to make the rube forget all those things Mom had told him.
They both listened, Apple politely, like he’d been taught, and Joe with evident irritation. Joe was starting the switch right then, the sense of allegiance from him to me. Joe was to be the goat, and the mark was going to have to dislike him, or the blowoff might go sour.
When I’d finished, Joe said impatiently, “To get back to that code sheet, Mr. Walters—”
The apple looked at him, and then at me. “I suppose we’re prying, but that remark of Mr. Delsing’s—I mean, am I to assume that some horse races are . . . fixed?”
“Some?” I smiled at him. “Quite a few. Though very few that I don’t know about, Mr. Apple. I think I can honestly say there are none at the major tracks that I don’t know about—and well in advance of the running.”
The square jaw of this young mark was set, and I could see the wheels turning in his thick skull. He was remembering the picture I’d painted of Washington, and at the same time the fine words about my generosity he’d read in that newspaper clipping. Here I was, an esteemed man, and a wealthy one, not looking like a crook at all. I could almost see his ideas change.
He nodded, and his voice was quiet. “Well, as Mr. Delsing said, that certainly takes the risk out of it.”
I puffed the dollar cigar and shrugged. I frowned and picked up my wallet. “Which reminds me, gentlemen. I’d like to give you a little token of my gratitude.” I pulled out the three hundred from the poke. “This you won’t need to declare in your income tax, and it might pay the hotel bill.”
Both of them shook their heads, and Apple said, “It’s enough of a reward for me just to meet a man of your caliber, Mr. Walters.” He looked uncomfortable. “How do you know in advance which races are fixed?”
I smiled. “That’s almost an impertinent question, young man. But if I’d lost that code, and those telegrams . . .” I took a breath. “I know in advance because I work with the organization that fixes them. As I said, it’s just for fun, and most of the money I make goes to various charitable organizations. And it gives me an excuse to travel from town to town, seeing this country I love.”
Now Joe said, “If you really feel indebted to us, Mr. Walters, w
e’ll settle for the name of a horse.”
“I’ll do better than that,” I said. “I’ll make a small wager for both of you this afternoon.” I rose. “And now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make a call to Washington. How about dinner tonight in the dining room here? I’ll have your winnings with me.”
“It will be an honor, Mr. Walters,” Apple said. He was still looking thoughtful.
They left, and I stayed there, waiting for Joe’s call. He called at three.
“You sold the jerk, I think,” Joe said. “Made to order, isn’t he?”
I thought of that square jaw and those wide shoulders, and a punk that could take forty grand from Everglade muck. I said, “He could wind up a beefer, Joe. He might be rough to cool off, once he gets a chance to think it over. It’ll be the cackle bladder, for sure.”
“Right,” Joe said. “Mama’s boy and I will see you at dinner. He’s beginning to get bored with me already, after your personality, Paris.”
At dinner I gave each of them a hundred and fifty dollars. I gave Joe a card to the Pegasus Club.
I said, “If you’d like to risk that capital again, gentlemen, this is as good a place as any. You won’t be bothered by riffraff.”
Joe looked at the card, and Apple looked at the money, as though wondering if it was right to pocket it.
Joe said, “If we’re going to wager, it would only be on your advice, Mr. Walters. Nothing I love more than a sure thing. But we won’t ask any more favors.”
I could see the apple was about to say something, but he must have changed his mind. He pocketed the hundred and fifty. I could see he was starting to simmer. This was better than celery.
Joe kept yak-yakking all through the meal, and I could tell the apple didn’t like it. Joe can talk awful damned foolish when he puts his mind to it.
When we were finished, I excused myself. “I have a rather important engagement with Senator Cormack,” I apologized, “or I’d break the date.” I looked thoughtful. “It so happens I’m going over to the Pegasus Club tomorrow afternoon. If you’re both there, I might have something for you.”
Joe called me that night. “I’ve been telling him what a gang of racketeers these bookies are. I’ve got him convinced it wouldn’t be dishonest to take advantage of them. He’s getting to think he’s Robin Hood, instead of Galahad.”
“I’ll see you at the club,” I said. “I think he’s ripe.”
Lou had really done a job on that Pegasus Club. It was a super streamlined, high-class bookie joint that would have fooled anybody. And the shills could have stepped right out of the Blue Book. The wire service was the regular service—with one small change.
Lou had records made of the results as they came in, and it was the records that came out of the loudspeaker—a half hour after the race was over.
That way, if any mark happened to check the race results in the paper next day it would all be the quill.
I had the results of the third at Tanforan when the pair of them came in next afternoon.
The apple’s eyes got big and bright when he saw the fancy company around. Some of them were lined up laying their bets, and the thousand-dollar bills were like push-notes in that big room. Old Judge Brewer stepped up and laid down a stack an inch high.
What the apple didn’t know was that all the bills were singles on the inside. It looked like a good half million in cash being waved around that room; there was really about twenty thousand.
They came over to me, and I gave them the winner of the third at Tanforan. “He’ll be odds-on,” I told them, “so a small bet isn’t going to do you any good.”
“There’s nothing small about me,” Joe said. “I’m betting the whole hundred and fifty.”
Apple’s look was full of scorn. “Mr. Walters’s gift. I’m willing to bet some of my own money on his word.”
Joe looked away.
“I’m going to bet two thousand,” Apple said, “of my money.”
“Gentleman,” I said, “let’s not quibble. The line is forming.
The announcement was coming through the speakers, and the winners of the second had been called off.
Joe managed to get in line before Apple did, shoving him as he did so, and not apologizing. It was a long line, but moving pretty well—until it got to Joe.
Joe mumbled and fumbled when it came his turn. The apple fidgeted and I could almost feel him burning. Joe finally stepped away from the window, and the cashier shrugged as the PA barked, “They’re off!”
“Sorry, sir,” the cashier said to the mark, “but the betting closes with that.” He turned away and didn’t even glance at the crummy two grand lying on the counter.
I thought Apple was going to swing on Joe right there. And when the horse came home, the horse I’d given him, I waited for the melee. He’d paid three for two, and Mr. Apple had been stalled out of a fast thousand dollars.
He just stood here, white in the face for a second, and then he began to use some language he must have picked up in the fields under that Florida sun.
Joe took it, and a few of the shills gathered around to see what was going on and the manager came over.
Horny Helmuth is the manager, and he made it look like the McCoy. “I’ll have to ask for your guest card, sir,” he said quietly to Apple. “We don’t tolerate that kind of language in the Pegasus Club. This is a gentlemen’s club.”
“Gentlemen?” the apple said evenly. “I can see that most of them are, sir, but I think you’re making a mistake in this—this—” He couldn’t finish.
“Mr. Apple,” I said soothingly, “you have a just complaint, but I’m sure you don’t mean to lose your temper. You’ve been robbed of a few dollars, but there’ll be other days.”
Horny says, “These men are known to you, Mr. Walters?”
“I’ll vouch for both of them,” I said.
Horny practically crawled into the thick carpeting. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude in a personal misunderstanding. I’m sincerely sorry, Mr. Walters.”
He walked away.
Joe said, “I guess I am kind of a jerk, at that. I only bet him to show. He certainly won’t pay much to show.”
“To show,” I said, and smiled at the apple. “To show.” I started to chuckle and slapped the apple on the back. “Isn’t he terrific?”
The apple half-grinned. He looked at Joe and then over at the windows where the judge was collecting what looked like a quarter million, at least.
The apple said, “You’d better get over there, Mr. Delsing, before they run out of money.”
We both got a laugh out of that, as Joe went to the window. I said to Apple, “The pikers we will always have with us. The men who haven’t the guts to take a risk. He’s a good example.”
Apple nodded. “Well, he’s young, and maybe he never had to make his own way, like I did.” He smiled. “I guess he’ll never be bothered with income tax, like you, Mr. Walters.”
“No,” I said, “he sure won’t.”
Now the rube blushed again, and said quietly, “I—it’s not right for me to ask it—but you wouldn’t have another winner for today, would you?”
I shook my head sadly. “Not today, no.” I frowned. “I—ah—shouldn’t mention it. But call me this evening, around seven-thirty.”
He said humbly, “Thank you, sir. I certainly will.”
“And another thing,” I cautioned him, “don’t antagonize your young friend. After all, Mr. Delsing does know about me now, and he could cause me some trouble in New York. I made nearly a million dollars in undeclared income last year, Mr. Apple, and it’s not a source of revenue I’d relish losing because of a personal animosity. You can see how it is.”
“I’ll get along with him,” he said. “I’ll stay right with him and see that he doesn’t blab to anybody. But I wish he wasn’t always running everybody down.”
“Including me?” I suggested.
“Let’s forget it,” he said. “I should shut up.”
I knew how I was going to play him. He wouldn’t need the big convincer; he believed in me now. I knew just how the “mistake” was going to be made, and how I was going to cool him out after the touch. Cooling him out right would save the fix a lot of trouble.
With a temper like young Apple’s, the cackle bladder was the only sure way.
He phoned at seven-thirty, this Apple did, and I said, “Can you shake Delsing for an hour? I’d like to talk to you here.” He was over in ten minutes. I mixed him a drink and put him in a chair away from the light. I wanted the light on me, so he could see how sincere I was.
I took a sip of my drink and looked at him for a couple seconds. “Tomorrow night I’m leaving for Denver. Tomorrow afternoon I’m hitting the Pegasus Club for the Allenton Stakes, and I’m hitting them hard. I don’t think they’ll be happy to see me after that. I’ve won quite a lot this past week, and they don’t like consistent winners.”
He was staring at me. “You’ve got the winner of the Allenton Stakes tomorrow?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But I’ll have it in the morning. I’m not going to be a pig. I figure to bet fifty thousand, collect my winnings, and take the first train out.”
“And make a big profit in a few minutes.” He must have been thinking of the difference between this and a celery farm.
I nodded. “In cash money. Now, because of the—the unfortunate bungling of our mutual friend this afternoon, you were cheated out of a tidy sum. Mr. Delsing seems to be something of a piker, so I prefer not to tell him of this. However, I’ll be glad to wager any amount for you that you care to. Frankly, Mr. Apple, young men of your stature are rare these days, and I have a great regard for you.”
He said softly, “But won’t the organization find out about it if you bet more than you declare to them? Won’t they be suspicious?”