King Con (15 page)

“Ya got me all spread out like a cold supper here, Donnie. Them tables is a-calling and I’m ready to go. … Let’s do the deal, that’s the Texas way.”

“If you would have a seat, I could see what I can get in the next ten or twenty minutes.”

“Well, hell, let’s give ‘er a shake, then.”

Stine hurried off and Beano and Victoria moved around the shop, looking at the trashy jewelry in the glass cases while the assistant, Matt, trailed them like a bloodhound. After a few minutes, Stine returned, wearing a greedy smile.

“We’re in luck. As you probably know, pearls are measured in millimeters.”

“Nope, never bought one before.”

“We found a twenty-two-millimeter, perfectly round, opaque black pearl. It’s got a beautiful dusky black luster and it’s only forty-seven thousand retail, plus tax.”

“Well, let’s get that little pigeon egg on over an’ take us a look-see.”

“In the interest of time, could we clear credit now? How will we be handling the transaction? That is, should the pearl meet your specifications,” Stine said. Beano wished he’d stop wringing his hands.

“Got me a checking account right here in the hotel,” Beano said proudly.

While Beano and Donald Stine went to the casino front desk to arrange the transfer, Victoria went to the ladies’ room, which was just outside the store off the casino main floor. A frightening thing happened as she was leaving the restroom. She ran smack into Tommy Rina. They actually collided.

“Watch where the fuck you goin’,” Tommy growled.

“’Scuse me,” she said and hurried off. … She could feel his eyes on her, as she moved off across the casino. … She didn’t dare turn to see if he had recognized her. She walked across the casino toward the front door, her unbridled excitement suddenly transformed into bile-soaked fear. When she was sure he couldn’t see her, she finally doubled back to the store. She prayed Tommy
wouldn’t come in. Beano was already back there with Donald Stine, so she had no chance to warn him.

The pearl showed up a quarter hour later, and Beano looked it over carefully. He had more than passing experience evaluating jewelry, having spent two years as a jewel thief in Nevada in the late eighties. He gave it up when he almost got shot by a night watchman. He knew natural pearls were never perfectly round. Value was determined by size, shape, color, and opaque luster. He knew a pearl this size would be one of a kind. He guessed that the pearl they were showing him was worth about thirty-five to forty thousand. He was being gouged slightly, but it didn’t matter.

“Mighty pretty,” he said, looking down through the jeweler’s loupe, “this thing’s black as truck stop coffee.” Then he handed it to Victoria. “Whatta ya think, June Bug?”

“Oh, Daddy, it’s so pretty. I simply adore it,” she said, her eyes darting out the front windows searching for Tommy Rina.

“Can we make it up into a necklace?” Stine asked, trying to improve on his good fortune. “Perhaps a nice platinum chain with a three-prong setting?”

“Let’s see how lucky ol’ Justice is gonna get ‘fore we get ta buyin’ a mess a platinum rope. We got more’n one category we’re workin’ on, don’t we, Sugar?”

“Whatever you say, Daddy.” She almost lost her balance and hugged his arm.

The deal was closed quickly. The fifty thousand dollars was immediately transferred to Rings ‘n’ Things.

Beano and Victoria walked out of the jewelry store, through the casino, and into the sunlight, with the black pearl in an ugly purple box with green felt. She didn’t see Tommy Rina anywhere. The Atlantic Ocean was sparkling just beyond the Boardwalk. As they moved out into the late-afternoon chill she started shivering and
Beano took off his Western jacket and draped it over her. “That guy gouged us a little; it’s only worth forty grand, at most,” Beano said, as he spotted John across the street, behind the wheel of her car.

“Then why’d we pay fifty?” she said, confused, as she hugged the coat around her.

“We’re increasing by diminishing, holding on by letting go. Didn’t I tell you?” Seeing her look, he smiled. “Don’t worry. Trust me. This is our lucky day,” and then he proved it as they walked across the street and were just missed by a speeding cab. Once they were in the car and pulling away, she told him about running into Tommy.

“Did he recognize you?” Beano asked.

“I don’t know. In this outfit, probably not.”

Beano was quiet for a long time, then he turned to her and smiled. “Then we’ll play it like it never happened. Kinda ups the ante, and puts a little kerosene in the deal,” he finally said, and hoped they stayed lucky.

They had dinner at a crab house on the garden pier. It jutted two hundred yards out into the Atlantic. The seven-thirty sunset tinged the slate-gray sky and the ocean whitecaps with a subtle but beautiful flamingo-pink. Beano stopped his conversation for a minute to watch it, something that surprised Victoria. She never stopped to look at a field of flowers or a pink and orange sunset. Her mother had once criticized her for this, saying that these were God’s gifts and should not be ignored. Victoria saw beauty in other places: in a carefully prepared brief, in a goal attained, in a job well done. She saw beauty in the precise organization of her own thoughts. She now looked at Beano, who had fallen silent, watching the changing colors of the sunset. He was like a child fascinated by a wonderful new gift. She
wondered if her mother would approve of him or be appalled. She couldn’t decide.

They had a table by the window and the salt air blew through the open front door. Victoria had changed out of her “fuck me” outfit and was back into her jeans and pea-coat, something her personality could fit into more easily. The pearl was locked in the safe under the sofa in the motor home, and Roger-the-Dodger had been assigned to stand guard while they went out and ordered New England clams. Beano had also ordered a steak and a Bud Light to go for the dog.

Victoria could tell that John and Beano were still holding back with her. But that night she was strangely elated. She would never have imagined that playing a dumb hooker would be so much fun. It was actually liberating, and her encounter with Tommy really did “put a little kerosene in the deal.” She remembered the hours her mother had spent trying to get her to loosen up. Yet this con man with the dazzling smile had somehow accomplished it in one afternoon. For the first time she understood the exhilarating thrill of the unreasonable risk.

“This thing with the pearl,” she said, “I still don’t know how it works. How are we gonna get a hundred and fifty thousand dollars? We paid fifty; you said the pearl we bought is only worth forty. I know we’re increasing by diminishing, but I don’t get it. So far we’re losing money, not making it.”

“We’re multiplying by dividing, so it doesn’t matter what it’s really worth,” Beano said. “Tomorrow, first thing, I’m gonna go into that same store and try and buy another one just like it. We’re gonna offer to pay as much as it takes.”

“But we don’t have any seed money left,” she reminded him.

“Ouch … there’s a showstopper”—he grinned—“I never thought of that.”

“Stop fucking around with me, Beano,” she said. “I’m not used to being played like a mark. If I’m in on this, I wanna know what I’m doing. I’m sure we’re breaking half-a-dozen laws here.”

“We might have to break a few before this con is over, but not on this pearl gag. We’re not doing anything illegal. Least not yet,” Beano said.

“Don’t forget, I’ve read your yellow sheet. You’re no choirboy.”

“That’s true,” Paper Collar John said, straightfaced. “Once, when he was ten, in Bend River, Arkansas, I was doing a faith healer con. I was the Reverend Yancy L. Anthony of the Church of Christ Manors. I let Beano sing in the choir. He’s got a terrible voice … chased most of the faithful right out of the tent. Hadda make him into ‘Little Lord Angel’ … youngest faith healer in the Southwest … Even at ten, you was damn good, Beano. You should a heard him preach. He could talk the money right out of a banker’s pocket.” Beano reddened slightly at the compliment. Finally, in a courtly gesture, he bowed his head to acknowledge his talent.

“Come on,” Victoria pushed, “I want to hear it. Just start with the pearl. How are we going to turn a ten-thousand-dollar loss into a hundred-thousand-dollar profit?”

So Beano filled her in. When he was finished, she looked at him, her mouth slightly open. It was close to brilliant, and he was right … she couldn’t find one single law that they would be breaking.

“Increase by diminishing,” she said, slowly. “Hold on by letting go, multiply by dividing. It’s really true, isn’t it?”

“If you do it right,” Paper Collar John said.

Then they started talking about members of the Bates
family, evaluating traits and skills, eliminating and accepting candidates. It was, in her opinion, a very colorful voir dire. Besides Fit-Throwing Duffy Bates and Dakota Bates, there were the Hog Creek Bateses, whom they didn’t talk about much, but who seemed to be important if there was ever any trouble. There were also “singers” to give background information to Tommy Rina when he was checking Beano out, and inside men who, she learned, were the stars of the con. Beano and John were inside men. There were outside men who roped the mark, then steered or stalled him. They were assigned to control his movement. There were “shills” and “luggers,” who she found out, to her dismay, were basically extras. She was determined to somehow upgrade her category. John and Beano discussed each candidate thoroughly before putting his or her name on the list. They divided up half-a-dozen names and agreed to start calling them first thing in the morning.

Victoria Hart sat there, eating cooked crab and wondering if this was going to be the worst situation she’d gotten into in her life … or the best.

The next morning Beano was in his cowboy getup: fringed jacket, boots, and Stetson. All alone, he opened the front door of Rings ‘n’ Things at a little past nine and stuck his head in.

“Howdy do,” he shouted into the empty store. Nobody bought jewelry at nine
A.M., SO
the staff was having coffee in the back. After a moment, Donald Stine came out with a cup in his hand.

“Good morning … Mr. McQueed, wasn’t it?”

“Justice McQueed … sure ‘nuf. Good goin’ on that. Y’all got a minute? I got a little bit of a problem here. …”

“Uh … well, what kind of a problem? The pearl was
okay …?” Donald looked worried, even slightly frightened.

“That pearl set me up fat as a Persian prince. Little Honey-dove an’ me, we been talkin” bout her goin’ on home t’Black Pearl Mesa with me to stay a spell.”

The store manager exhaled with relief. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad everything worked out.”

“‘Cept she changed her mind … ain’t it just like a woman …?” Beano let this moment ripen until a look of full panic formed on Donald Stine’s face. Donald didn’t want to have to take the pearl back in trade. He had purchased it from the Jewelry Mart and sold it to the Texan. He knew a 22mm one-of-a-kind black pearl was a white elephant. He would never get rid of it. It would become perennial inventory.

“Changed her mind?” Don breathed in as he said it, ending with a slight hiccup.

“Well, not exactly changed it. … I mean, what she wants is, she wants another one just like it. She wants earrings. She says she wants me t’buy her a duplicate. So I guess she’s got me running with the big dogs now.” He reached for his wallet. “I’m gonna let you make ‘em up into a set of earrings, maybe get us platinum settings, like you was sayin’.”

“Oh. Oh … well, look, a pearl of that size and color is very, very rare. You see, they’re made by oysters.”

Then came the nature lesson. Beano put his empty wallet away and listened patiently.

“As you probably know, a little grain of sand gets inside the oyster shell and the oyster makes the pearl to protect itself from the sand. It’s a very slow and very individual process. Size and color are all variables. To find a matching pearl of that size would be almost impossible. We’d have to get very lucky.”

“Rich beats luck ever damn time.” Beano grinned.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I want her t’come home t’Black Pearl Mesa with me, Mr. Stine, and them earrings is gonna do the deal. So, we gotta get her that matchin’ pearl at any cost. Comprende?”

“Well, that’s all very easily said, but I’m afraid nature didn’t make two pearls in that exact shade and color.”

“Bet nature made one pretty gol-dern close, though. I’ll pay you one hundred and sixty thousand dollars for a pearl that’s close enough t’be the mate.”

“One sixty?” Don said, greed overtaking good sense. “Lemme get this straight. … It doesn’t have to be exact? Just close?”

“Hell, son, they’re earrings. We ain’t mintin’ money here. Close is all we need. She’s gonna wear the dad gum things on opposite sides of her head.”

“It will take some time. That was a huge pearl. I’ll have to put out a fax bulletin and a notice on the International Jewelry Exchange.”

“How long is that gonna take?” Beano asked, sweeping his hat off and dropping it on the glass counter between them.

“I don’t know, Mr. McQueed … maybe never.”

Beano looked at him sadly. “But you’ll try?”

“For a hundred and sixty thousand dollars I’d swallow a grain of sand and start making one myself,” Donald grinned.

Not a bad joke, Beano thought. But on this hollow-chested man who kept rubbing his hands together like an insect, it only managed to be annoying.

Beano promised to check back later in the day. After he left, Donald Stine went to the back of Tommy Rina’s store and put out a call for a 20-to-24mm black pearl with opaque luster, almost perfectly round. He faxed it to the International Jewelry Exchange. He also put it on the New York-New Jersey jewelry fax. He offered to buy the jewel for sixty thousand dollars, giving himself
a hundred-thousand-dollar profit on the deal if he could find a pearl close enough to match.

Two hours later, a Mr. Robert Hambelton of Hambelton, Deets, and Banbray, a wholesale jewelry company, answered with a fax responding to the recent inquiry. The letterhead said his firm was across the river in New York. The fax pictured a black pearl, opaque, almost perfect. His memo said the pearl he had in stock was 22.5mm in size, but was in a diamond-encrusted setting and that he would have to break up the necklace. He was asking a hundred and fifty thousand, no negotiation. There was a number in New York to call. Donald Stine figured a ten-thousand-dollar profit was better than nothing, so he rushed to his phone and dialed.