Originally published at: https://boingboing.net/2020/03/04/gentleman-uses-fishing-rod-to.html
…
2 Likes
Hi.
1 Like
I am reminded of this payoff passage [SPOILERS AHEAD] from Iceberg Slim’s Death Wish: A Story of the Mafia, in which two con artists have pulled a successful con, and all that remains is the clever betrayal:
I hawk-eyed him as he got out and shut the door. He shivered elaborately and opened the car door. He leaned into the car and reached for his beeny, draped across the back of the front seat. For only a mini-instant was his overcoat a curtain blocking him from view, as he lifted off the seat.
I thought, Houdini, with four-foot arms, couldn’t have plucked that score from beneath my seat at that range. Anyway, I bent over and probed until my finger tips touched it. He slammed the door shut, I felt a twinge of guilt, watching the wind flap his overcoat tails, that he was trusting me with the score.
In a couple of minutes, I heard the thunder of the Lake Street El Train pulling into the station down the street. I looked up at it passing on the way to the Loop. Was that Willie wrapped in his blue plaid benny grinning down at me from a window in the last car?
I tore open the bandana! It was a dummy loaded with funny money. I dug beneath the seat like a pooch for a buried bone. Nothing! I raced around the car and pawed beneath the driver’s seat. Something sharp gouged blood from my thumb tip. It was a fishhook tied to a length of twine that was tied to an anchor post beneath the seat.
The cunning sonofabitch had probably choreographed the rip-off while we were in the cell. With vivid hindsight, I knew why he pretended he needed the sawbuck from the bandana. He wanted to get the fish hook into it when he put it back. Then he could reel it in with his left hand when he leaned into the car for his benny. The dummy bandana was preplanted to “blow me off” smoothly just in case I got suspicious, as I did, before he hit the wind.
This topic was automatically closed after 5 days. New replies are no longer allowed.
