by Iceberg Slim
“When the old man got back to his shop he rushed to the phone in the front window. I could tell he was happy and excited as he talked. He hung up. Then he did an odd thing. He scrambled into that heap of his and drove toward the Loop. I tailed him to hockshop row at Van Buren and State.
“He was beginning to really puzzle me now. The old man never fenced anything but whiskey from hijackers and clothes from smash-and-grab store burglars. He had been a former tailor in Rome. He was smart to traffic in items he knew.
“He parked his jalopy three feet from the curb in a red zone on State. I parked maybe fifty feet in front of the jalopy on State. I kept watch in my rear-view mirror.
“He hustled into Jerry Profacci’s joint. I knew that Jerry was Chicago’s top hot-ice dealer. Blue, at that instant I got the thought that you had stepped into the heavy rackets.”
Dot paused and stuck his index finger into his ear. He rapidly jiggled it like an itchy mutt scratching at fleas. He rolled his eyes in the ecstasy of it all like a dame in orgasm. With that squeaky, high voice of his and all, a fellow would have to wonder about him. Even so I could pity the fruit hustler who tried to put the strong-arm on him.
Blue shifted his bulk and glanced nervously at his watch.
I looked over Dot’s head at the frostbitten chumps passing the window. I envied them now. They would go on living and at least die a natural death.
Dot was sharp for a juice head. He sensed out tenseness. He said, “Now, Blue, don’t get jumpy. Nino’s not wise yet that you are the dirty bird who fouled up the old man.
“Anyway, after ten minutes or so, I got restless and walked by Jerry’s to the corner. There was only a clerk at the counter. I knew the old man was in the rear transacting business with Jerry.
“On my way back to my car, the old man staggered out to the sidewalk. He was in a bad way. He was in a shocked daze. He looked right into my face. His eyes were blank. It was spooky because he had known me fifteen years. I walked by him. I went back to my car to take up the tail when he pulled out.
“The gears screeched when his heap careened into traffic. A southbound streetcar skidded a shower of sparks. I knew it couldn’t stop in time. The streetcar crushed in the driver’s side of the jalopy. The old man flew through the window like he had been shot from a cannon.
“His head busted wide open against the street. It sounded like an ax splitting a two-by-four. I sat there helpless. I knew he was dead.
“I was sitting there long after they took him away. Blue, I knew that in some way you were responsible. At first I couldn’t tie you in. Then when it hit me, it was easy. The old man had gotten bad news at Profacci’s.
“He had been in high spirits when he left you. What was the news that put him into that fatal daze? Profacci bought hot rocks. I knew then it was rocks, phony rocks that he thought were real!
“I was sure you had swindled him on some twist of the rocks con. Profacci had broken the bad news to Frascati. Boys, I believe that score was no less than fifteen-G’s. I want five-G’s no matter what it was.
“A million dollars couldn’t cool Nino if I tipped him. But you’re lucky at that I’m the only one who can put a finger on you. Give me the five-G’s now and walk out that door. Don’t give it to me and I rush my finger to Nino.”
2
COPPER DOT’S SUCKER EAR
I had to admire the way Dot had spun the steel web. Dot gazed at us. His body had the floppy looseness of a card hustler who had dealt himself a mortal cinch.
I started to take a cold steam bath inside my overcoat when Blue said, “Mr. Murray, your eyes told your brain a lie. It’s true you saw me with Frascati. But I didn’t get a nickel for myself. Too bad he isn’t alive to support the truth.
“You must understand, Mr. Murray, that I was just a good Samaritan when you saw us together. This whole unfortunate affair revolves around a certain white gentleman of now stainless reputation who was a former inside man on the big con. He’s been a true friend through the years. His name would flabbergast you if I were not pledged to secrecy. I am sure even Nino would be impressed to hear his name.
“As a matter of fact, so powerful is he that on occasion he has influenced police department policy. In a manner of speaking it could be said that you, Mr. Murray, under certain circumstances, might be affected by this influence, for better or for worse.
“This gentleman had been doing soft-goods business with Mr. Frascati and a score of others here in the city. Like you, Mr. Murray, I have not been free of sinful interest in a fast buck.”
Blue paused and looked over the booth top toward the waitress. He waved. She came and waited for the order. Blue ordered cognac. Dot, Cutty Sark, triple shot, straight. Cutty Sark had been my favorite drink long ago. Now I didn’t dare touch a single drop of alcohol. I ordered Seven-Up.
The glamour dust in her hair reminded me of how blocks of silicon jeweled the granite markers in a cemetery on a sunny day.
She brought the drinks. Blue lit a cigar and slowly sipped his cognac. He looked at Dot and winked at me.
Dot’s eyes were locked shut. He poked out his angry bottom lip between gulps of the straight Scotch. He was crawling his fingers over his glass like vipers at the rim of a pit.
I wondered if, under the strain of everything, Blue was off his rocker. Didn’t he realize Dot plus the Scotch could be almost as dangerous as Nino? I didn’t know Blue’s full angle yet, but at this point I was ready to tear my pocket off in haste to pay off.
Blue continued, “Now, Mr. Murray, to make a short story shorter first I must make you understand that I too was a victim of the white gentleman’s disregard of principle. It was inhuman of him not to mention that Nino was Frascati’s nephew.
“I didn’t know that Mr. Frascati existed until I received a call from my white friend. He had discovered a distressing number of sub-par garments among a delivery made to him by an agent of Mr. Frascati the day before.
“Unfortunately, he had been generous and advanced Mr. Frascati a sizeable sum of money a week ago. The gentleman explained to me that whether Frascati had willfully cheated him or not was not really important. He had to give the old man a lesson.
“He wanted the old man to use careful respect in future dealings with him. He told me he really liked the old man. But he couldn’t let even the small timers cheat him with impunity. It made sense to me.
“You’re a robbery detective and you read the papers. They said a cat burglar made a hundred-and-fifty-gee score from the room of a jewelry salesman in a downtown hotel several days ago.
“The gentleman located a Southside whiskey hijacker who had done business with the old man. The hijacker must have electrified the old man with the story that the hotel score had been made by an amateur.
“The amateur was a maid at the hotel with sticky mitts. She had taken it on impulse. Now she wanted to get rid of it fast. She would take fifteen-G’s. The hijacker was her agent. Right away the old man called my gentleman for advice. I was there when the call came through.
“The gentleman said it was a great deal if the merchandise was really the Loop loot. But a body had to be careful when dealing in rocks. There was phony stuff around, an inexpert eye couldn’t detect from the genuine.
“The gentleman told him he would send an expert ex-con jewel thief to go with him to look at the stuff. I played the role of that expert. Mr. Murray, I was indebted to the gentleman. How could I refuse him?
“Before the old man hung up he got the gentleman’s promise that if the ice tested out he would lend him eight-G’s to go with the seven he had in hand. He swore the old man to secrecy. I took a cab to the clothing shop.”
Blue leaned back and puffed his cigar end into a fiery eye. I was beginning to feel better. Maybe Blue’s tale would get us off the shakedown hook.
Those feet sledging against the floor had stopped. There is something about solid con that wraps the mind in a pleasant cocoon-world of unreality that replaces the world of reality. I almos
t believed Blue’s tale myself.
Dot’s eyes were wide open. He was more wary, now, than disbelieving. But one flaw in the fabric of Blue’s con and we’d really be in a bad cross.
Blue leaned toward Dot. He gently pressed his palms against Dot’s elbows. I could barely hear Blue as he continued the airtight lie.
He whispered, “Mr. Murray, I lugged the old man to a hotel room at Thirtieth and Indiana Avenue. The hijacker and a stranger were waiting. The stranger was the gentleman’s watchdog.
“He was going to take the fifteen-G’s from the hijacker after the old man had been trimmed. I guess the gentleman figured that since the hijacker was a heavy gee he might get tempted and not be satisfied with his half grand payoff for the play. A grand was my end. God knows I owed the gentleman a favor, so I turned it down.
“The flash was in a black velvet pouch. The hijacker dumped that slum to the top of the dresser under a bright lamp. It was like the display at Tiffany’s. The two dozen blue-tinted gem-cut Zircons blazed blue-white greed inside the old man. He was shaking beside me.
“Mr. Murray, let me tell you the whole truth. That old man elbowed me out the way. He fondled those phony rocks as if they were the trillion-dollar collection at Buckingham Palace.
“Finally I was able to examine each with my prop jeweler’s glass. I declared they were all gem quality stones and worth perhaps more than a hundred and fifty-G’s.
“Hell, the gentleman hadn’t really needed me to back up the slum. The old man kept a sharp eye on the pile of glass as he called the gentleman. He was making certain no one of the three of us filched from the treasure that was soon to be his. He was panting to close the deal.
“Within fifteen minutes a runner showed with the eight-G’s from the white gentleman. The old man trembled his seven-gee bundle from his coat lining. He gave fifteen-G’s to the hijacker. He scooped up the flash and fled the scene like the thief he thought he was. I left behind him and went home.
“Mr. Murray, as the saints in heaven are my witnesses I have told you the snow-white truth. I have one regret, Mr. Murray. I wish when you saw me with the old man you had collared me and held me on some beef no matter what. The awful tragedy of the old man’s accident will plague me to my deathbed.”
Blue had sold the tale! Dot sagged in the booth like a crippled fox, clubbed and poisoned. He blinked his eyelids across his bloodshot eyes. Blue’s con had stomped his strong upper hand into confused gristle.
Blue’s eyes were glowing in the dimness. Many times in the past I had noticed how the con charged him up.
Dot’s lips pouted to a smooching stance. Tiny springs of sweat welled inside the sudden tattoo of wrinkles on his chin. He opened his mouth to speak. He didn’t make it.
Blue said, “Now, Mr. Murray, it isn’t the end of the world. I am a realist and a generous one at that. The mistaken impression that you had before you heard the truth does give you a temporarily dangerous nuisance value.
“It would be stupid of me not to reward you for your complete silence. I need time to filter the truth to Nino. I have a plan to make him understand I was a mere dupe myself in this whole unfortunate affair.
“I realize how horrible it would be for me were you to relate to Nino the untrue version that you first believed. I have one big worry, Mr. Murray. Everybody knows about your hard-on for grifters. Say I gave you fifteen hundred or a couple of grand right now? What insurance would I have that you wouldn’t break your finger pointing me out to Nino? You could do it a minute after you got your payoff. Then I wouldn’t have the time I need.
“Incidentally, just why do you have your big hate for grifters?”
Dot jerked erect. The veins in his hands corded as he squeezed his glass. Frothy droplets of spit showered my overcoat sleeve.
He shouted, “Hate ’em? Goddamnit! How I hate them! You treacherous bastards heist with a smile. You’ll play con for a paralyzed blind man. You destroy with your cunning lies. All of you cold-hearted mother-fuckers should be handcuffed together and burned to cinders.
“You said I had two grand coming? Give it to me and blow. I could jug you both on an open charge that would keep you on ice for the night.
“Then maybe overnight I could find out whether the old man had confided in detail with Profacci, the fence. Maybe your story was all con. If it was, Profacci will tell Nino the truth. All Nino will need is your name from me.
“So, it’s not what I do that earns the two grand. It’s what I don’t do. So, give me the two grand before I change my mind.”
Blue shoved his palms through the air toward Dot. He said, “Now, Mr. Murray, you’re going to get the two grand. But I’ve got to know you won’t welsh on our deal.
“My bladder is going to burst if I don’t get to the john. Can you wait a moment for the dough? When I get back we’ll find a solution to the problem.
“You know with a gut like mine, I’d never get between the bars in the john window. Besides, the john door is right in your plain view. I couldn’t go through the rear kitchen door if I wanted to. You know I wouldn’t leave White Folks in a jam like this.”
Blue got to his feet. He looked wistfully down at me. He said, “White Folks, when we came in here tonight I never dreamed two grand in cold green would go through a chimney in smoke.”
He turned and walked toward the john. Dot slid to the aisle end of the booth. He kept his eyes in the direction of the john. I was glad Dot’s eyes were busy elsewhere.
He couldn’t see my hands trembling. I didn’t want to believe Blue’s last words. He didn’t intend to give Dot the two grand! He had told me in code he was going to lay the flue for Dot.
My legs were quivering. They wanted to sprint me into that john and plead with Blue not to risk it. I shut my eyes. Dot might glance my way and see something there to tip him that the weather was getting foul.
3
THE DUMMY PAYOFF
I closed my eyes and imagined what Blue was doing in the john. He was slitting an opening in the crease at the bottom of one of those envelopes he always carried. After that he would peel off, from his end of the Frascati score, four of those five-hundred-dollar bills.
He’d take enough toilet tissue to equal the weight and bulk of the money. He’d fold the tissue lengthwise down the middle and put it inside the envelope. Then he would put the loaded envelope among the several other empty ones in his coat pocket.
Ordinarily we used the flue as a short con game on barkeeps and small businessmen in the small towns surrounding the city.
The gimmick was to put the dummy envelope in trust to the sucker. Then borrow against the money that had been removed through the slit in the bottom of the sealed envelope. It made for easy frequent touches.
It was our interim game between larger scores on the longer rocks, drag and smack con games we played.
Believe me, the flue had not been devised to bilk a dangerous roller out of his shakedown. The most disturbing question was, what if he was wise to the flue?
When Blue went to the john I was only partially in the heat of the dangerous affair. That is, from Dot’s point of view. Blue’s velvet tale off the top of his head had eased me away from the core of the flame. Now, when Blue came back, he’d need me to set up the crossfire to make it logical to Dot that the flue and the mail-away were necessary and fair arrangements for us all.
The mail-away was most important. It would be damn unfunny for Dot to rip open to toilet paper before we’d copped a heel. Blue came back and slid into the booth beside me.
I turned and looked at him. He thumb-stroked the lobe of his right ear. It was our secret crossfire signal. He was ready to play. I heaved a sigh and leaped into the center of the fire.
I said, “Blue, for Chrissake give Mr. Murray the two grand. Let’s get the hell out of here now! You need every precious minute for the Nino square-up.”
Blue gave me a pained look like a father catching his sweetheart laying his son. He thrust his hand into his coat pocket. He to
ok out four five-hundred notes. He slammed them to the tabletop.
He fanned them apart with the heel of his palm. Dot’s eyes rocketed down for a fast count. His right hand did a spastic jerk.
Blue scooped up the bills and said, “White Folks, don’t get panicky. Mr. Murray will get the two grand as surely as God is in His heaven. I’m not stalling. I’m just puzzled and worried.
“If we were not grifters we could trust him all the way, I believe. Mr. Murray is a fine gentleman and his word is like a gold bond under normal circumstances. But you heard him say how much he hated con players.”
Dot coughed Blue to a halt. He said, “What the hell? There’s no problem. Give me the two grand and we can stay together until you make your contacts. How about it?”
Blue said, “No, thanks. Even you can’t be sure that you wouldn’t cross me immediately that you got your payoff. But I’ll give you the two grand and you stick to us like flypaper until I square Nino, right? What do you think, White Folks?”
It was my cue to introduce the flue.
I said, “Blue, it’s almost a perfect idea. It has one flaw that makes it impossible. You can’t reveal the identity of the powerful white gentleman that tricked you into this bind. It seems to me you are forced to make a personal call on him in your efforts to get straight with Nino. You can’t afford to let Mr. Murray or anyone else know who he is.
“You could pay him a visit while I stayed with Mr. Murray. But that’s out. I’d have a stroke if left alone with him. I just can’t think of—oh! Wait a minute. Say, I’ve got it! Real estate escrow! That’s how to do it!”
Blue cut in, “White Folks, where the hell have your brains been since Mr. Murray joined us? This isn’t even close to a real estate deal. I don’t follow you.”
I quavered my voice in excitement. I said, “I understand it isn’t that kind of deal. But, don’t you see? You can fit the escrow plan to this deal like a glove.
“We can imagine Mr. Murray has an acre of silence to sell. You’re the buyer, cautious and sensible. You can’t risk the two-grand purchase price until you’re sure you have clear and absolute title to Mr. Murray’s property for the stipulated time.
