Conspircaies

'See' was the middle cap, 'switch' was the one on the other end from the money hand.

By loading his riff with 'forty's come to play, now cop me the money,' the shaker was telling Knitcap to bet forty bucks and win by picking the cap near the shaker's left hand.

Sure enough, Knitcap bet forty bucks, found the rouge ball under the cap next to the money hand, and collected a hundred dollars.

'I'm no sinner,' the shaker announced. 'We have a winner!'

Knitcap was all smiles. 'I'm up!' He pointed his money at Jack. 'You my good luck, yo. You wanna play, I'll watch for you.'

Before Jack could decline, the Hispanic guy jumped in. 'Hey, no. It's me this time. I'm down.'

'Santo, you've lost enough,' said his wife. At least Jack assumed it was his wife. Both wore wedding rings.

'Hey, how about me?' said Nocap, close on Jack's left.

'Let's not fight, I'll make things right,' said the shaker as he started the skedaddle again. 'Everybody gets a turn, I'm a man with time to burn.'

Santo dropped two twenties onto the cardboard. The shaker kept up his chatter but no instructions now since neither stick was in the game. He shuffled the caps, skittering the ball between them, demonstrating absolute control. But just before he stopped he let the rouge ball slow so that everyone could see it come to rest under the middle cap.

'Didja see it?' whispered Nocap.

'Yep,' Jack said.

Doing your damnedest to lure me in, aren't you.

Jack watched closely as the shaker slid the three caps forward and arranged them along the front of the cardboard. Jack knew that was when the ball would be moved from under the cap to the web between the shaker's thumb and forefinger. He was expecting the transfer, looking for it, but still didn't spot it. This guy was slick.

The shaker said, 'There they are, lined up tight. Forty pay a hunnert if you pick it right.'

Santo didn't hesitate. He pointed to the center cap.

The shaker lifted it—nothing. He lifted the other two and…out rolled the little red ball from under the one in his right hand.

Santo pounded his fist against his thigh and cursed in Spanish.

'Okay,' said his wife, tugging on his arm. 'That's it. That's a hundred twenty dollars you lost now.'

Knitcap stepped around, blocking their retreat, and started yelling at the shaker. 'Hey, yo, you gotta give this guy another chance!'

Nocap chimed in. 'Yeah, man. Give him a double or nothing so he can get even at least!'

Knitcap added. 'What he said. Help this guy out or I'm walking!'

Let the sucker go, Jack thought. You've soaked him enough.

Apparently they didn't think so.

The shaker shrugged. 'Awright, awright. He puts down fifty he can win back his one-twenty.'

What, no rhymes? Jack thought.

'No, Santo,' said the wife.

But Santo had the fever. He popped his diamond earring into his hand and held it out.

'I got no more cash. How 'bout this?'

'No!' his wife gasped. 'I bought you that!'

The shaker took the earring, held the tiny diamond up, twisting it this way and that in the light.

Say no, Jack thought, sending the shaker a mental message. Let him go.

The shaker shrugged. 'Awright,' he said with almost believable reluctance. 'I'll make an exception this once.'

'Mah man!' Knitcap said, slapping Santo on the back. 'You gonna win! I can smell winnin' in the air!'

Jack ground his teeth. Sons of bitches.

The woman wailed. 'Santo!'

'Don't worry,' Santo told her. 'I won't lose it.'

Oh, yes you will, Jack thought, but could say nothing.

He fumed as he watched the shaker put the earring on the cardboard and begin the skedaddle. One thing to fleece a sucker. Rules of the street were, someone stupid enough to bet on a game like this deserved to lose, and Jack had no quarrel with that. Sort of a tax on the street impaired. But there were limits. You collected the tax and moved the guy along. It was stone cold to suck him dry, especially in front of his woman.

Jack usually ran his Annual Park-a-thon for the Little League at night, but he was incensed enough now to make an exception for this monte crew.

He studied the sticks, then turned and checked out the slides. Most likely they were all carrying knives; none of them looked to be packing heat, but damn near impossible to tell under those bulky coats.

He made a decision as he turned back to the game: He would accept a donation from these generous fellows, allowing them the honor of being the first contributors to this year's Little League fund.

He felt his pulse quicken a little. He hadn't come prepared for this. Usually he avoided spur-of-the-moment gigs, but the opportunity was here, so why not grab it?

Jack watched the shaker and his flying hands. Same routine as before, then the caps were pushed forward.

'Didja see it?' Nocap whispered again.

'Sure did,' Jack said, nodding and smiling, looking like a guy taking the bait and waiting to be reeled in.

Santo picked the money cap, but the ball rolled out from under the center cap.

'Shit!'

His wife wailed again as the earring disappeared into the shaker's pocket.

'Hang on a sec,' Jack said, grabbing the stricken Santo's arm as he turned to go.

'No!' the wife shouted, her voice rising in pitch. 'No more!'

'Please,' Jack said. 'I think I've got this figured and I want witnesses. I'll make it worth your while when I win.'

Jack was telling the truth. He didn't want to be alone at the table when he played.

The possibility of salvaging something from their disaster changed their minds, and Santo and his wife nodded. He looked sullen, chastened; she stood teary eyed with her arms folded across her chest.

'Great,' Jack said. He turned to Nocap and said, 'You were next, I believe.'

'Hey, no, that's okay,' Nocap said, grinning. 'Be my guest. Wanna see if you really do got this thing scoped, yo. 'Cause then you can tell me.'

'Thanks.' Jack pulled two fifties from his wallet. 'What does this get me?'

'Two-fifty,' the shaker said.

'Come on,' Jack said. 'A hundred bucks on one play—that should get me at least three hundred.'

'Sorry, man. Two-fifty's the limit.'

'Hey, yo, c'mon,' said Knitcap, playing his advocate's role to the hilt. 'Pay the guy three!'

Jack said, 'How about two-fifty and the earring?'

'Yeah!' said Nocap. 'That's fair!'

'Awright,' said the shaker with another of his put-upon shrugs, making a show of reluctantly bowing to pressure.

Truth was, Jack could have been asking for five hundred and it wouldn't have mattered—no way, no how was the sucker going to win—but he didn't want to push it too far.

'But I need to know if you've got two-fifty,' Jack said.

'I got it,' the shaker said, holding up the stack in his left hand.

Jack shook his head. 'If my money's on the table, so's yours. And the earring with it.'

Another shrug, but wary this time. 'Awright. If that's the way you wants to play, what else is there for me to say?'

Jack laid his money down. The shaker counted out two-fifty in tens and twenties next to Jack's bills, then dropped the earring on top.