The Art of the Con (32 page)

Mixing Up

Many con games employ several of those principles or marry scams together when attempting longer cons. The Bank Examiner scam, for example, takes advantage of people's respect for authority and secures trust by impersonating the police, security, or some other official supposedly employed by the financial industry. Once a mark is convinced by their story and fake credentials, the scammers will either ask him to help with an investigation or convince the mark that he is somehow under suspicion of helping to pass counterfeit money. When accused, innocent people will often go to any lengths to prove their virtue, so to prove their innocence, they are asked to help catch a crooked bank teller in the act.

Whether by the victim's willingness to help or their need to escape suspicion, the con is the same. The mark is asked to withdraw a large sum of money from his bank and given strict instructions about which teller he should use. Later, when the hustlers examine the cash, they claim that it is all counterfeit and must be kept as evidence, exchanging the sucker's money for a worthless receipt. Eventually, the victim realizes the truth but even then, the con may not be over.

A few months later, the mark is approached by two more grifters pretending that they want to set up a sting to catch the people who stole the mark's money. Eager for retribution, the mark often falls for the same scam twice. The pigeon is made to believe he is helping the real police catch the impostors in the act of taking his money for a second time. They might even make an act out of pretending to arrest the dastardly con men before keeping the mark's money as evidence again!

Not only do these principles work, with a slight twist on the story they can even be repeated on the exact same victims. This is one of the most important lessons I can pass on about the nature of cons and scams. Not only do they continue to change and adapt to the times, they can be easily tailored to any victim. The more that a story connects with a mark, the harder it is for them to see the deception—even if they've seen or heard the same scam before. The bank examiner scam works because people want to help the authorities or prove their innocence; it works a second time because they want retribution for the first scam. Though the mark is motivated differently, the principles of the two scams are identical.

It is the story that hooks the mark, convinces him over time, and ultimately causes him to commit. Once distracted by this fiction, it is extremely difficult, perhaps impossible, to recognize deception. The more beautiful and beguiling the rose, the easier to forget the thorns.

Going Long

Confidence tricks like the Spanish Prisoner often engage a mark over greater periods of time, and as they evolve into long cons, the stakes become much higher. Deeper conviction results in a larger commitment to the lie, but the scams remain essentially the same, perhaps combining elements from different cons.

Yellow Kid Weil's Boxing Scam was an ingenious combination of principles. It started with a real estate deal that the victim was easily able to verify as genuine, but while working on this deal, the mark became aware that his new business associates were involved in a colorful affair where a former champion boxer was planning to take a fall during a private boxing match. The mark soon demanded to be “let in” on the action and Yellow Kid and his partners agreed on one condition—that the mark place all of their money in one large bet.

On the night of the boxing match, the sucker added a huge amount of his own money to that bet, and while waiting for their fighter to take a fall, the mark, brimming with confidence, even agreed to a much larger wager. Unfortunately, before he could pretend to get knocked out, the “ringer” scored a lucky punch that lifted his opponent clear off the canvas, killing him instantly.

As blood poured onto the canvas, it suddenly dawned on the mark, with a little encouragement from Yellow Kid, that this was an illegal boxing match and that everyone in the room might be arrested as accomplices to murder. The mark didn't need any help finding the exit and was soon on his way home, a poorer man but grateful to get away.

Notice how this beautifully crafted con game uses several principles to hook the mark, manipulate him with the line, then sink him and eventually cool him out. It uses several strategies to create a concert of connivery:

• Bait and Switch
  : The real estate deal was legitimate but was only intended to get the victim involved with Yellow Kid and his team of hustlers. Their real objective was to let him find out about the fixed boxing match, knowing he was exactly the kind of mark who would relish the idea of easy money. Had they tried to approach him directly about the match, his suspicion might easily be aroused.
  
• Abuse of Trust
  : The honest business transaction that Yellow Kid used to get close to his mark required time to complete. While the con man had no intention of completing the deal, it allowed him to develop a level of trust and legitimacy that would become an invaluable ingredient when convincing the mark.
  
• Panic Principle and “Separate and Lift”
  : The staged death of a fighter during an illegal boxing match in an underground gambling den is a powerful motivation to make just about anyone walk—or run away—no matter how much he has lost, resulting in a complex but effective “separate and lift.”
  
• The Cool-Out
  : Once the mark had left his money behind, it was almost certain he would never return, and convinced by the scam, there was little danger of him calling the police. Yellow Kid's plan was for the mark to catch the first train home to try to forget the whole affair and that's exactly what he did. But his ordeal was far from over.
  

During the match, the sucker had agreed to commit to a larger bet, so a few months later, someone posing as a money collector would demand that the debt be paid with interest. In fact, the victim might have been blackmailed for months or years after the con, but the scam soon collapsed. With so many people involved in the charade, it was inevitable that someone would attract the attention of the law. Brilliant as the scam was, it proved too dangerous and ultimately cost the life or liberty of several players when the police caught up with them.

With most scams it is the mark who dictates how a con should be played. As time progresses, hustlers identify new angles and there seem to be no depths to which they won't sink. Charity scams are all too common, especially after a well-publicized disaster or tragic event, but I see nothing particularly clever in this type of fraud. It's simply taking advantage of the public's instinct to help people and there's little or no art in it.

Con games are just as despicable as these fake charities and con artists are no better than their lying, bottom-feeding cousins, but there's an inherent ingenuity to these scams that sets them apart from other crimes. It's difficult to appreciate how effective they are or why they work, because there is a powerful element at work in more sophisticated scams: emotion.

In essence, con games are a seduction, and it takes experience to know when or how to introduce the idea of commitment. Come on too strong or too soon and the mark is likely to resist or walk away. Long cons allow con artists to build a relationship, foster trust, and gradually manipulate the mark. A long con is played over a greater period of time, potentially for much bigger stakes. The result is a higher return for the hustlers and a deeper, more damaging impact on the victim. In this sense, a confidence trick is like a one-night stand, while a long con is a passionate affair that becomes devastating when it proves to be a lie.

I
lost another hand and watched as SM pulled more of my chips toward himself, adding them to his growing stack. Soon, we would be evenly matched; it was obvious that my luck had taken a turn for the worse.

The air was thick with smoke that clung to the ceiling in dark gray clouds as about a dozen people sat or stood around the table to see who would win the tournament. In another room, several cash games were under way, and I knew SM was keen to join them. After the previous player was knocked out, SM quickly offered to share the prize money for our table—a built-in option—but I had refused, partly because, despite having far fewer chips than me, he insisted on an even split, but mostly because I despised the prick. I wasn't alone in this regard, and most onlookers were watching in the hope that I would beat him, but it seemed that the cards had turned against me.

The game was hosted in a large Glasgow apartment with several rooms filled with folding chairs and card tables. The players were all invited from local casinos; a rogues gallery of crooks, businessmen, gambling addicts, and poker enthusiasts. The games were self-dealt, with cards that were about ten years old, passed from player to player to deal, but no one had tried any kind of sleight or false shuffle until that night, when I decided to take SM down.

Seven Card Stud has never been my strongest game. I had spent some time studying the odds and learning a few plays, but I was probably more of a danger to myself than a player like SM. Nevertheless I'd gotten this far by luck, some good decisions, and a few well-timed maneuvers. I knew that skill could eventually turn the tide in SM's favor. It was my turn to deal, and I gave the cards a legitimate shuffle and a cut. I dealt each of us three cards—two face down and a third face up. With each additional card, SM increased the pressure, constantly raising while I continued to call.

As I picked up the deck to deal us each a seventh card, I was faced with a decision to either bluff or fold after the next raise. I was holding two pairs but SM had four hearts face up and was acting like he already had the flush. Someone made a joke and SM reacted, looking away for just a second, and in that instant, I secretly peeked at the top card of the deck. It was exactly what I needed to make a full house! If SM really had his flush, he was sure to go all the way, but the top card was meant for his hand, not mine. As far as I could tell, I was about to lose unless I could somehow keep that top card for myself.

As it happened, I could.

With everyone's eyes on me, I broke the cardinal rule: never move when the heat is on. I drew my left thumb to the edge of the deck and pushed what looked like a single card to the right. In fact it was two cards, perfectly aligned, and as my right hand approached, the left thumb quickly drew back the uppermost card leaving the second card protruding with my right fingers contacting its face. Then, with the aid of my right thumb, I spun the second toward SM.

Performed well, a second deal can hide among several fair deals, emulating the honest action almost exactly. As a single deal it needs to be absolutely perfect and performed without hesitation. The slightest variation in handling might attract attention or, in the worst possible scenario, the second card might not come, and remain protruding underneath the top card. This is known as “catching a hanger” and is usually followed by “going to the hospital.” Dealing a second under these conditions doesn't just take great skill; it requires huge, brass balls.

The second card sailed toward SM and landed softly as I fairly dealt the card I had just stolen for myself and gauged the room to determine if anyone suspected. Nothing had changed. I was free and clear. All I had to do was take SM's money. But things don't always work out the way we plan them.

SM was a poker cheat. For years I'd found myself sitting across from him and his two partners at final tables after hours of play, only to be squeezed out as all three played from the same pocket. Their method was to keep each other in the game by passing chips whenever only two of them remained in a hand. They would each add chips to the pot until the last round where the weaker of the two would raise whatever he had left and the other would fold, no matter what cards he had. This was blatant collusion, but even though everyone knew it was happening, they all felt that it was impossible to prove.

SM was also an aggressive player, constantly badgering people into making poor decisions and regularly being admonished for his bad behavior. I have no idea if SM had ever dealt from the bottom or stacked a cooler (set up a deck in advance), but he and his partners were cheats, and when given the chance to turn the tables, I didn't hesitate. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Sleight of hand had rewarded me with a full house but had also given SM the exact card he was hoping for. He was only holding four hearts until my second deal gave him not just a fifth heart (a flush) but the exact card he needed for an unbeatable
straight flush
. Unaware of this, I bet everything on my full house and walked right into a trap of my own making. Had I dealt honestly, I might have won the hand fair and square, but instead, I used a lifetime of practice to gut myself.

Later, as I sat in my car feeling the sting of a self-made bad beat, I resolved to take this experience as a sign that the universe didn't want me to cheat and that I had better find a more productive outlet for these skills.