James Swain - Super Con

“Want something to drink?” Night Train asked.

“I’m good,” he said.

Night Train slid the loot toward him. He opened the bag and had a look inside. Money made the world go round, and there was enough inside the bag to make it go around several times. From his pocket he removed Night Train’s father’s watch and placed it on the table.

“Here you go.”

“Don’t you want to count your money?”

“I just did.”

“You’re a hustler, aren’t you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

Night Train picked up the watch and gazed at the inscription on the back. It was a cheap watch, but that didn’t diminish its value. Night Train’s old man had toiled for years to earn that watch, and his son kept it to be reminded of the sacrifices his father had made.

“I’ve been beaten at cards before, but never so quickly,” Night Train said. “You cheated us.”

“Takes one to know one,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You rang in a cooler on me, and I spotted it and spilled my drink on the cards.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Night Train’s cell phone rang. The famous football player cursed and dug through his pockets. Out came a fancy alligator-skin wallet, which was dropped onto the table, followed by the cell phone, which Night Train answered. He frowned and rose from the table.

“I’ll be right back.”

Night Train went into the villa and shut the door, leaving Billy to wait. Night Train’s denial didn’t shock him; the first rule of getting caught cheating was to deny it and make the accuser prove the allegation. Most people didn’t have the courage and would back down.

Ringing in a cooler during a card game required skill and timing, plus stacking the deck to be switched into the game. If one card was out of order in the stack, the scam wouldn’t work, and the victim might end up winning the money. Hustlers who used coolers relied on formulas to set up the cards. These formulas were written down and kept hidden in the hustler’s wallet. During the game, the hustler would take a bathroom break and use the time away from the table to set up the deck to be switched in. The formula would calculate the game that was being played, along with the number of players, thus ensuring that the hustler got the money.

Every hustler who employed coolers used formulas to stack the deck, and Billy had to believe that Night Train did as well. The formula was written on a piece of paper in the event there was trouble during the game and the hustler had to get rid of the evidence. This was done by crunching the formula into a ball and swallowing it.

He glanced through the glass door into the villa. Night Train was still talking on his cell phone. Reaching across the table, he picked up Night Train’s wallet and did a quick search. Every fancy men’s wallet had a secret compartment that was nothing more than a clever fold of leather; Night Train’s wallet was no different, and he extracted a slip of paper and unfolded it. As he’d expected, it contained Night Train’s winning formula for seven-card stud, the same game in which Night Train had switched decks and tried to cheat him.

Night Train was finishing his call. Billy placed the formula beneath the wallet so it was hidden from view. Night Train returned to the patio and took his seat at the table.

“Where were we?” the famous football player said.

“You were denying that you used a cooler on me yesterday.”

“I never cheated anybody in my life, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

The best way to catch a cheat was to paint him into a corner with his own lies. Billy reached across the table and dramatically lifted the fancy wallet off the formula.

“What are you carrying this formula in your wallet for? Shits and giggles?”

Night Train was not going down without a fight. “Give me a break, man. That’s a game the team plays during trips. I wrote it down because it’s complicated, that’s all.”

“Nice try. Actually, it’s the stack you used in our game. There’s a code written across the top for easy reference: 6612. The first number tells you how many hands the deck is stacked for. In this case, it’s a six, which is how many players we had.

“The second number in the code tells you which hand will be the winner. That number is six, the last hand, which happened to be yours.

“The third number in the code tells you the strength of the winning hand. One is a four of a kind, two is a full house, three is a flush, four is a straight, and five is three of a kind. The third number in the formula is a one, meaning the winning hand will be a four of a kind.

“The last number tells you which player will get fleeced. In this case the number is two, the second player to the dealer’s left, my seat. I was supposed to get a full house and bet all my money thinking it was a winner. Only things didn’t work out the way you planned.”

Night Train stared at the formula before meeting Billy’s gaze.

“You’re good.”

“Glad you think so.”

“How long you been in the rackets?”

“Since I was fifteen. You?”

“Twelve. My father ran crooked card games in our basement and taught me the ropes. So how the hell did you cheat us, anyway?”

“I bought a few decks from the hotel gift shop and doctored the edges with a nail file. Then I convinced the girl working the counter to take the doctored decks back.”

“So when I had the concierge bring up a couple of decks, he brought decks from the gift shop. That’s sweet. I didn’t suspect a thing.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Night Train took the news in stride; he’d been beaten at his own game and wasn’t afraid to admit it. Billy pushed the paper bag across the table to his host, who acted surprised.

“I don’t want your money,” he said. “But I do want to talk to you and your teammates. I have a business proposition for you.”

Night Train scratched his chin. “And what would that be?”

“I want you to fix the Super Bowl.”

“You’re crazy. The league constantly watches for fixes. We’d all go down.”

“No, we won’t. I want to fix some prop bets. The game’s outcome won’t be affected.”

“Hey man, don’t think the players haven’t discussed fixing prop bets. Problem is, you don’t know who’s going to get the ball first.”

“I have that covered. The coin toss will be rigged.”

“Meaning you’ve got the head referee in your back pocket. Well, that’s an interesting angle. Our kicker always boots the opening kickoff out of the end zone, which takes special teams out of the picture. The defense could then commit the game’s first penalty from scrimmage and suffer the first injury, and no one would be the wiser. I like it. For the sake of argument, let’s say I get my boys to agree to your fix. What’s our take?”

The deal that Billy had struck with Broken Tooth was that Night Train and his pals would receive four million to fix the game. But Billy had decided he didn’t like those terms. Broken Tooth couldn’t be trusted to hold up his end of the bargain, leaving Billy with little choice but to cut Broken Tooth out and offer Night Train a more lucrative arrangement.

“Half,” the young hustler said.

“Half of what?”

“Of every bet we place with the Vegas sports books. Since I don’t know what the line on the prop bets is, I can only guess.”

“Try me.”

“Seven and a half million.”

“You’re going to give us half of seven and a half million bucks?”