Trick Baby

by Iceberg Slim

  Blue promised me he’d teach me the smack and the next winter I would be his partner. Blue kept the big white kitchen well stocked with food.

  I had learned to cook when I was a kid and Phala worked in River Forest. Midge and I took turns fixing our meals. Twice a week a woman came in to clean the house and do the laundry.

  We had lots of fun playing cards on the dining room table. Whenever there was a Robert Taylor or Charles Boyer picture on, I’d take Midge to the Tivoli Theater at Sixty-third Street and Cottage Grove Avenue. She’d fidget in her seat, hot as hell. But she wouldn’t let me kiss her.

  We had a lot of good clean fun together. I figured I’d play it cool. And after I got her to really like me, I’d make a fast move into her pants. She was still knocking around with the queer broads at Cocktails For Two on most weekends. Except for that it would have been a breeze for a guy with my gift of gab to lay her down.

  I was living the best life I’d ever lived. But I couldn’t forget Phala’s face and that creepy giggle that day at the sanitarium. Sometimes I’d dream about it. I’d wake up soaked with sweat.

  Blue also kept a well-stocked liquor closet. I started downing a glass of rum and coke before I went to bed. Instead of nightmares about Phala, I had wild wet, half-nightmares about Midge. Jesus! They were weird.

  At first Midge and I would be kissing and fooling around. Then I’d be taking a sweet ride. A burly broad would pop up. She had a loud coarse laugh. The ugly big-tit broad would stand there buck naked with a jock three times the size of my own.

  She’d flop the damn thing from side to side with both her hands. I’d keep pushing Midge’s head away so she’d stop staring at it. I’d leap up and hurl my foot with all my might against the broad’s deformed pecker.

  The broad would screech and vanish. Then the ride would get sweeter than ever. The final explosion would blast me awake. I’d lie there panting and hating my burly tormentor.

  I’d get a headache trying to figure out what those slick queer broads did with a fluff in bed. It had to be mysterious, powerful loving. I knew that.

  On Christmas Eve Blue drove me to see Phala. I took her a big basket of fruit and candy. She was even thinner. We just sat in the visiting lounge and stared at each other for a half hour. I didn’t kiss her goodbye. I was afraid she might get horny and break me down again.

  I stopped on my way back home. I sent my old pal, Lester Gray, a sawbuck money order up in Saint Charles Reformatory.

  On Christmas day Midge cooked the best dinner I’d ever eaten, for Blue and me. There were piles of gifts under the beautiful Christmas tree for Blue, Midge and me. A cheerful blaze roared in the fireplace.

  That night a gang of con men, friends of Blue, came and drank until daybreak. It was the best Christmas I ever had.

  Of all my gifts I liked best the Philco table radio from Blue. I listened to sweet music from the Aragon Ballroom until the wee hours and thought about Midge. Midge must have spent a considerable part of her Christmas allowance for the Bulova wristwatch she gave me.

  I spent almost a hundred dollars on gifts for Midge and Blue. It seemed that I’d known them for a lifetime. I was sure happy and crazy about them, and that’s the guaranteed truth.

  Blue had a birthday party for me at home on January fifteenth, Nineteen Forty. Precious Jimmy, Mule and Pocket were there to see me blow out the seventeen candles on my big pink birthday cake.

  Midge had promised me she’d be home to celebrate with me. At two A.M. the party broke up. She still wasn’t home. I was lying in bed listening for her to come in. I was wondering if she was hollering in joy on some broad’s bed, when Blue came in and sat down on the side of the bed.

  I said, “Blue, I hope you’re not worried about Midge. She’ll come in pretty soon, safe as always.”

  He said, “Folks, I’m not worried about her. I couldn’t sleep for another reason. Kid, we’re not going back to the flat-joint this spring. I’m going to teach you con.

  “You’re only seventeen. But with your build and poise you come off like twenty-five. I’m going to dump that whiskey head, Memphis Kid and build you into my full-time partner.”

  I said, “That’s good news. Tell me all about the wire store and what I have to tell a sucker to put him on the send for all his money.”

  The shadow of his big head waggled on the wall.

  He said, “Wire stores shouldn’t concern you, now. Anyway, they’re almost out of style. It’s the rag and payoff stores that most white con mobs have set up to play for rich suckers that ropers lug in for trimming.

  “It’s all long con. But hell, kid, first you have to be taught the basics of the short con.”

  I said, “Are there any Nigger long con mobs?”

  He said, “No, Niggers don’t have the feel for the organization and the big dough to finance and operate a long con store. Besides, a store has to buy its fix from powerful white politicians. Niggers don’t have connections like that.

  “An all-Nigger store would have to play for Nigger marks. There just aren’t enough fat, Nigger suckers to support a black store.

  “The best black con men are drag men. The newspapers call it the pigeon drop. The drag is long con because the mark is put on the send for his money.”

  I said, “Are we going to play the drag together, Blue?”

  He said, “Maybe. But a Nigger drag man sometimes has to prowl the streets for weeks looking for a mark. Along with its other bad features, it’s a felony.

  “No, Folks, I’m not going to do a ten spot in the joint for playing a slow game like drag. Fast frequent short con touches are best for us as a start. But maybe later, now I said maybe, if you are as bright as I think you are, I’ll see Felix the Fixer and find out if he can handle the fix for drag.

  “Since you look white, our drag scores would come off bigger and faster. You could catch white marks that a black grifter couldn’t stop. We’ll wait and see how apt you are for con.”

  I said, “But Blue, you still haven’t told me how the stores and the drag work. Do you really know?”

  He laughed and said, “You’re a natural for the con all right. Here you are ribbing the teacher so he has to give you the dope you want.

  “All right, I’ll convince you I know everything about con, short and long. I’m going to give you a fast rundown on the stores and the drag. You don’t really need it. But I’m going to make the student respect his teacher.

  “Folks, a wire store is a fake telegraph office that a con mob sets up to look just like a real one. A roper brings the sucker to be trimmed to the boss of this store who is the inside con man just like I’m the boss inside the flat-joint.

  “To the mark he pretends to be a dissatisfied employee of the vast Western Union Company. The inside man and the roper cut the mark in on a plot to beat horse-racing books.

  “An idiot would know it’s a cinch to make a fortune when you can pick a winner in a horse race that’s already been run.

  “The inside man cons the mark he will make it possible by delaying the teletyped race results to the books until after the roper and the mark have laid their bets.

  “To test the system for the mark and to give him a powerful convincer, this inside man gives them a winner. The roper takes the mark to a phony bookie joint and they both win a small bet.

  “The mark’s head is swimming with greed. He’s seen the shills lose and win stacks of long green. Now he believes it’s a mortal cinch to cheat the book out of a fortune.

  “The larceny in his heart makes it easy for the roper and the inside man to put him on the send for a bundle of his dough. Just like the sucker playing against the flat-joint, he’s got no chance to win because the roper fouls up the inside man’s dope on the crucial race.

  “The sucker is stricken and fleeced by the roper’s stupid mistake. The inside man and the mark curse and abuse the hell out of the roper.

  “The inside man puts the mark on a train. He promises the mark he’ll contact him and next time
, with a new bankroll and no stupid guy like the roper around to foul things up, they’ll win back their losses and make that big fortune to boot.

  “Flunkies strip the fake stores of the convincing props until time to play for another mark. Now the—”

  I was so excited I cut him off, “I look white. Let’s get a bunch of real white guys together and open a store. You could train me for the inside. Nobody would get wise that it was really a nigger store.”

  He exploded, “Goddamnit, Folks! Stay cool and stop letting your mind leapfrog like a screwy sucker. Hell, even I couldn’t do it.

  “The marks are smart, high-class businessmen, doctors, even lawyers. The inside man is the guts of a store. He makes one mistake and he’s lost the mark and the score.

  “The Vicksburg Kid was playing inside at twenty-eight. But he’s a genius. Control yourself. You get confused, I won’t be able to teach you the lousy short con.

  “As I was trying to say, the rag store play is almost like that of the wire store. It is rigged up as a brokerage office. The mark is trimmed with fake shares of stock and phony stock market information.

  “The payoff store can be a wire store or a rag store setup. The inside man, instead of delaying race results and letting the mark bet his own money on a winner to convince him, gives the mark money to bet on a fixed race.

  “The same powerful payoff gimmick is used for the rag store. No Western Union setup is used in the payoff on the nags.

  “The first sure-shot tip on the fixed race is the reward the inside man gives the roper and the mark when they return his lost wallet stuffed with important and valuable papers.

  “The sucker’s greed is fired up and he’s trimmed in a lavish bookie setup just like in the wire play. The same gimmicks are used in the rag store. It’s the bogus shares of stock and fake inside market information that trim the sucker in that case.

  “Now the drag is a crude distant relative of the stores.”

  I cut him off again. I said, “Blue, please don’t blow up again, but I want you to tell me some of the real words that con men say to suckers.”

  He said, “All right, kid, all right! Now the drag is really a desperate try of poor Nigger con men to imitate the big front and play of the white long con.

  “Before Dirty Red got con goofy we played the drag together. A working day started when the banks and post offices opened. We were open on both ends. We both could catch and cap. Which means that either of us was capable of cutting into a sucker, holding him and finding out if he had scratch to play for.

  “Both of us could cap on or build up a sucker who had been caught. We caught and played for our marks in the streets. Say I saw an elderly man who looked like a prospect. I’d block his way and rip my hat off my head.

  “I’d say, ‘Excuse me, sir. I know it’s bad manners to stop a stranger on the street without a proper introduction. But I’m black like you and I’m in desperate need of information. You look like a kind, intelligent gentleman. Please help me.’

  “Then I’d tell him about how I had just came to town from Alabama. I was carrying a large sum of money. I was afraid because a white man on the train coming north warned me about flimflammers and unfair white banks.

  “I wondered if it was true that the banks up North gave five percent interest to white depositors and only three percent to Nigger depositors. What were flimflammers, and did his experience with the banks make the white man on the train tell me a lie or the truth?

  “If he’d never heard of flimflammers and he had money, I’d signal Red across the street that the mark was qualified. I’d nudge the mark and point to Red picking up a fat wallet in the gutter.

  “I’d say, ‘Now ain’t that a shame, Mr. Smith? A rich white man just pulled away in a new Cadillac. He must have dropped that wallet. Look at the Nigger trembling and shaking. Don’t he know that you ain’t a thief when you find something? Besides, a white man lost it and poor Niggers ain’t got nothing nohow. I think we ought to call him and put his mind at ease.’

  “I’d wave Red over to us. He’d come over scared and excited as hell.

  “He’d roll his eyes and say, ‘You all ain’t going to give me away, are you?’

  “I’d say, ‘No, since we’re all Niggers we thought we’d call you and give you some good advice. The white man dropped that wallet. You’re not a thief. Now get yourself together. The Lord has made this your lucky day, ain’t that right, Mr. Smith?’

  “Red would look around suspiciously.

  “Then he’d say, ‘I’m sure glad two kind, wise Niggers saw me, instead of two mean, foolish white folks. I was raised in a Christian home and my mama always told me good advice is precious and should be rewarded. Tell you what I’m gonna do. If there’s three dollars in this wallet, I’m gonna give my black friends a dollar apiece. If there’s three thousand, I’m gonna give you a thousand dollars apiece.’

  “Red would give me and the mark a flash of green inside the bulging wallet.

  “I’d say, ‘My stars, man, you’ve struck it rich! But let’s get off this street. That white man is sure to come back looking for that wallet.’

  “We’d walk the excited mark to a side street. In a gangway or the foyer of a building, Red would start to open the wallet. His hands would tremble so much he’d drop it. I’d pick it up and turn away from the mark to look inside it. I’d whistle in amazement and hand it to Red.

  “I’d say, ‘It’s crammed with thousand dollar bills. That white man might be a big-time crook.’

  “Red would say, ‘Good God! Then these bills could be from a big robbery. They might even be counterfeit. What are we gonna do?’

  “I’d say, ‘They’re not counterfeit. They may be registered. We need the advice of some bigshot Nigger or white man. I’m a stranger in town. How about you, Mr. Smith? Can you think of some smart bigshot we can trust?’

  “Before the mark could answer Red would snap his fingers and say, ‘I’ve got it! Mr. Silverstein, my boss, will help us. Ain’t nobody smarter than a Jew. Ain’t that right, Mr. Smith? We can trust Mr. Silverstein. He loves me because I saved his only son from the deep cold waters of Lake Michigan two years ago. The kid was swimming and got cramps. He was going down for the third time when I reached him and pulled him to shore. There ain’t nothing Mr. Silverstein wouldn’t do for this Nigger.

  “‘He’s got a big fine office no more than two blocks from here. Lord have mercy, I just remembered I was on an errand for my boss when I had this good luck. Friends, you wait right here until I get back. I’m sure Mr. Silverstein will change these big bills so we can split fair and safe.’

  “When he left, I’d say to the mark, ‘Mr. Smith, we’ve got nothing to lose if he doesn’t come back. If he does, then we’ve found an honest man and a small fortune.’

  “The mark would almost shed tears of joy when Red got back. Red would shake our hands and say, ‘Friends, I told you we could count on my boss. That wallet belonged to an old business rival of his. He’ll give us smaller bills for the big ones.

  “‘But he wants to meet my two relatives who are sharing in my good fortune. He wants to be sure they’re sensible people and won’t go wild and get him in trouble for helping.

  “‘Now he knows that I’ve got only two relatives in the world, my cousin Louis and my Aunt Susie. It’s a good thing he’s never seen them.’

  “Red would hand me a business card and say, ‘Here’s where the office is.’

  “I’d take the mark by the arm and start to walk away.

  “Red would shout, ‘Hey, what you Niggers gonna do? You gonna make a bar out of me to my boss? I told you he knows I ain’t got nobody in the world but cousin Louis and Aunt Susie. Mr. Smith ain’t no woman.’

  “I’d turn to the mark and say, ‘Don’t you worry about a thing, friend. The same arrangements I make for myself, I’ll make for you.’

  “While I was gone, Red would give the mark a detailed description of the mythical office and Mr. Silverstein. When I
got back, I would breathlessly describe the elegant office and the wonderful Mr. Silverstein.

  “I’d say to Red, ‘Yes, Mr. Silverstein is sure a fine man. He told me about how you saved his son. I’ve never seen a white man that loved a Nigger like he does you.

  “‘He likes me too and he was pleased when I was able to put up forty-five hundred dollars as proof of my worth and integrity to share a third of that fifteen thousand dollars in the wallet.

  “‘He told me that he’d trust you with his life and that he takes care of business on the inside and you can take care of us on the outside.’

  “Red would leave to bring back both my share and the mark’s. At least the mark thought his was coming back with Red. When Red got back, he’d give me a paper sack fat with greenbacks.

  “I’d say, ‘Where is Mr. Smith’s share?’

  “Red would say, ‘The boss said every tub must sit on its own bottom and every tongue must confess of its own soul. You put up a bond of good faith. Aunt Susie, I mean Mr. Smith, ain’t showed his good faith in the right way.’

  “I’d shove the bag back to Red.

  “I’d say angrily, ‘We’re all Niggers in this together. Since Mr. Smith’s share ain’t here, take it all back. I don’t want my share if he can’t get his.’

  “Red would say, ‘Good gravy. I didn’t say Mr. Smith couldn’t get his share. ’Course he can if he pleases the boss like you did and puts up a reasonable bond to prove he’s a solid person and won’t get the boss in trouble.

  “‘The boss just wants to be sure that everybody is used to money and won’t go on a stupid spending spree and get police attention when he gets his five thousand dollars. The white man that lost the wallet would be glad to see my boss’s fine reputation destroyed.’

  “Most likely the mark would blurt out his ability to qualify before I could ask him.

  “I’d go with the mark to raise his bond. When we came back, Red would take it back to the office. The mark and I would wait anxiously for Red to come back with our shares.