The Big Con (21 page)

Thus, technically, the insideman is the key man of the con mob. When any roper wants to go to work, he asks the insideman; when one con man wants to get in touch with another, he writes his friend in care of the insideman, who, although he would hardly turn over a roper’s address to anyone, will forward mail to the address in his little notebook. If a con man is arrested, the insideman knows how to arrange bail and may advise the con man whether to remain and face trial or jump bond. If the fix curdles and the insideman should find himself inextricably involved with the law, the safety of the whole mob is menaced; hence the insideman retains excellent legal service to be used in such an emergency. Some insidemen report at regular times each day to their attorneys, fixers or bondsmen; if they fail to call, it is assumed that they are in serious trouble and immediate steps are taken to locate them and “spring” them, for no one is so annoyed at being locked up as a con man. Meanwhile, the tip-off system goes into action among con men, their women and their friends, and all business in the store is suspended while the con men lie low or retreat to a safe hangout until the coast is clear again. Most ropers maintain
some sort of contact, other than the insideman, who will communicate with them in case of trouble and get word back to the big store in a roundabout way so that steps can be taken to go to their aid. If the roper, once arrested, communicates directly with the insideman, the whole set-up will be revealed; hence, he ’phones his woman or his partner, or some good friend, at regular intervals; when he does not report, it is assumed that he needs help. Word gets back to the insideman on the very efficient “grapevine” and he does what he can to protect himself and help his roper. Sometimes fixers like Lou Blonger or Mike Haggarty would travel clear across the country to help some con man who needed assistance.

Once a roper is in trouble, the first thing needed is money to get him out. The insideman customarily raises this money, though sometimes the fixer will take care of an old and established customer on credit, knowing that he will collect every cent due him. But the insideman usually passes around a sheet of paper in the hangouts, having first himself signed his name opposite a liberal sum. Every con man who is thus approached, and has or can get money, is honor bound to subscribe, the amounts varying from $50 to $500. Each man signs his name, initials or monicker, writes the amount subscribed opposite it, and gives the cash to the insideman, who, when the fund is raised, turns over the money and the list to the con man in trouble or to his representative. Each man who puts his name on such a list knows that he will be repaid as soon as the con man can get out and take off another touch or two, for these debts are sacred. A con man might neglect to pay them—but only once. Next time there would be no subscribers. But if his name is good, even his personal enemies feel obliged to contribute; he keeps the list and checks off his debts one by one until they are paid; if his debtor should die meanwhile, he is bound to pay off his debt to his benefactor’s widow or
to his family. Thus the insideman is more than just a helper or partner; he is the one to whom ropers turn in time of trouble and he materially assists in building and maintaining the morale of the mob.

In playing for a mark, the insideman first sees him when the roper, having announced his arrival beforehand, arrives at the hotel with the victim. Very often this is the hotel which the mark has selected for his stay in the city. The roper and his partner have already given the mark enough of a play “against the wall” to convince him. He is usually pretty thoroughly tied up by the time he reaches the city where the store is located. It only remains for the insideman to take over his confidence and direct the big play. The insideman sees the mark only briefly, for perhaps not more than an hour or two all told, before the play. During this brief period, he must look the mark over and make his decision as to the type of play to be used; he must get the “feel” of the mark and, on the basis of this impression, plan the rest of the game. The insideman must have highly developed grift sense in order to do this accurately and instinctively; however, experience is all in his favor for, while the average roper may play only from one to four good marks a year, a good insideman probably plays more than a hundred.

As soon as these details are settled, the insideman notifies the manager to frame the store in the proper manner and goes out to the hangouts to select a boost from the con men assembled there. Then, with the time for the play set, the boost assembles and the insideman gives them their final instructions before the roper and the mark come into the store. From then on the burden of the play rests on the insideman, and though, compared to the roper, he sees relatively little of the mark, his few appearances must be sufficiently impressive to make the mark part with a large portion of his fortune. The responsibility for blowing off the mark after the play generally
falls upon the insideman, with some assistance from the police.

When the temporary insideman tells the mark the “tale,” the mark realizes that this man is engaged in questionable or dishonest dealings. He has been allowed to discover this very naturally through the point-out or finding the leather. The permanent insideman must take over the play where the pair of ropers dropped it, posing as a high official in the illicit syndicate and arousing both the confidence and the cupidity of the mark to a high peak. The insideman must be able to handle this work with great tact and perfect timing. If a mark feels that he is being pushed, he gets suspicious; if the play lags a bit, he may cool off and lose interest. Hence the insideman, in addition to inherent grift sense, must have a vast knowledge of human nature, a dignified and impressive manner, and a perfect sense of showmanship. His story must take effect naturally. Says one con man, “When one of those insidemen you have listed tells the tale to the roper and the mark, the roper almost believes it too, Doctor. They tell the kind of tale that would make most any man go home for his jack.”

“And,” said the Postal Kid, “an insideman must be intelligent enough to talk a smart businessman into losing a large amount of money to strangers within a few days. His story must ring true or he won’t get any money.” “He must also be an excellent judge of human nature,” said John Henry Strosnider, “and he must be able to sense when his story is taking effect. He must not hesitate on any quiz that the mark puts to him. A mark can think of so many things to ask you—things you have never been asked before.” An ace insideman who now ropes for a successful New York store says: “The insideman must use a method suited to the mark at hand. All good insidemen have a way with marks. Take the Yellow Kid, for instance. He had a way with marks that was unbelievable. Charley
Gondorff had about the same thing, and it enabled him to beat most of the marks who were roped for him.” Said Frank Tarbo, “Insidemen play for so many different types of men and study them carefully. They abide by what they learn. They study out different angles from which to approach a mark, then experiment with them until they are perfect.”

If the insideman handles the blow-off properly, the mark hardly knows that he has been fleeced. No good insideman wants any trouble with a mark. He wants him to lose his money the “easy way” rather than the “hard way” and the secret to long immunity from arrest is a properly staged blow-off, with the mark blaming the roper and feeling that the insideman is the finest man he ever knew. It is the mark who is not cooled out properly or is mishandled by a clumsy or incompetent insideman who immediately beefs; furthermore, if he is sure that he has been swindled and if the local police do not act, he may go higher up, with revenge rather than recovery of his money as his object. Marks of this type can upset the whole corrupt political machine and even land not only the con men but perhaps some of the police and the fixer as well behind bars.

Good insidemen are rare; they do not seem to occur so frequently as good ropers. And there can be only as many first-rate stores as there are first-rate insidemen. Since good ropers like to work only with expert insidemen, the natural result is that the best ropers cluster about the best insidemen, forming a kind of closed corporation, or monopoly, with the control resting in the hands of the insidemen and their fixers. Most of the really big-con touches in the country have passed through the hands of this informal corporation. This is not to imply any “organization of crime” in the sense in which certain sensational writers sometimes use that phrase, but rather only reflects the natural consequences of the best ropers seeking
out the most expert insidemen, who in turn have provided the most effective fixing arrangements and as a result dominate the most favorable spots for taking wealthy suckers.

The very best insidemen who have played or are playing marks against the big store are generally conceded to be:

Although Buck Boatwright did not live to use the payoff and the rag, he is generally regarded by men who have worked against the best big stores as one of the best insidemen who ever operated a store. He was a “natural.” Among living con men, the Yellow Kid, another natural, is one of the best in his profession. Second to the Yellow, and in many respects quite as good, many con men would name Charley Gondorff. On the rag, Fred the Florist is reputed to be one of the best now operating. These men are all old-timers; they did not develop by slow degrees; they were good from the start. It is a peculiar fact that these men should all spring from one generation. Modern professionals who have seen the best insidemen work see little hope of replacing them from the present crop of young grifters.

This belief may only reflect the condescension with which the older men in any profession look upon the
coming generation. On the other hand, partly because of the vastly changed conditions under which present-day grifters are turned out, it does seem that the old-timers have a little the best of it.

Other insidemen, some dead, some very old, and some belonging to the present generation, who deserve a place in the first rank of con men are:

Minor members of the mob include the manager for the big store, the shills, the board-marker and clerks, and one or more tailers, one of whom serves as a lookout.

The manager, sometimes called the “bookmaker,” is strictly speaking not a con man in that he does not rope or play a mark. He is more of a theatrical producer, with a minor acting part thrown in on the side. He “frames” the big store and creates the atmosphere of prosperity and swank recklessness which goes with dignified, large-scale gambling. He furnishes the rooms used for the brokerage office or the gambling club. He sees to supplying all the equipment used in either place—tickers, headphones, blackboards, etc. Also, he is responsible for all the spurious documents to be used in any kind of con game which the mob may wish to play—fake personal bonds for the con men, fake membership cards in secret or fraternal organizations, fake newspaper clippings, betting slips,
stock sales and purchase orders, credit slips, ledger sheets and numerous kinds of letter-heads to be used in any sort of phony correspondence which may be necessary. He must have on hand at all times a plentiful supply of fake receiving blanks for the Western Union and Postal Telegraph Companies and a portable typewriter with type to simulate the lettering produced by teletype machines, so that a fake telegram may be received at a moment’s notice from any place at any time. He has printed a great variety of membership credentials in various branch stock exchanges and gambling clubs, together with guest passes for the same. He may also have a supply of legal seals for documents, a check protector, and a variety of blank checks. A supply of membership cards in various fraternal orders is also very helpful. He keeps on hand various stock letters, copies of which can be “received” by the con men and shown to the mark when necessary. And, most important of all, he has official custody of the “B.R.” or “boodle.” This is the money which is used to play the mark in the store. For this purpose a minimum of about $5,000 is necessary, but the more the better; in the really big stores the boodle may contain a large sum of cash, perhaps as much as $20,000. This money is made up in bundles presumably containing $500, $1,000, $5,000, etc., but really composed of one-dollar bills for filler and having $50, $100 or $1,000 bills on the top and bottom to make the stack look real. Each bundle is stacked carefully and bound with sealed labels like those used in banks for marking bundles of bills. A rubber band around each end holds the pack together. When a skillful manager makes up his boodle, he can make $10,000 in real cash look like several hundred thousand dollars. This money is used over and over again by the shills in placing bets and is paid out again to them when they win. The idea is to keep as much money circulating before the eyes of the mark as possible.

This money, like the other props which are necessary, usually belongs to the insideman, but is always in the custody of the manager. As soon as the insideman notifies him, he sets up the store for play, and when the play is over, he takes everything down and packs it away in suitcases or trunks, ready for use again, but hidden away somewhere so that, if the mark returns, he will find nothing but an empty room. His part in the game is a small one, with routine lines and routine action.