Only When I Larf

‘We’re not complaining,’ I said.

‘That case won’t hold them,’ said the clerk.

‘It will,’ I said. ‘The same thing happened last Easter. That size cash case will hold the notes. Then we can fill up with packs of coin.’

He shrugged. ‘One thing I’ll tell you,’ said the clerk. ‘If I’m stuck out in Jersey for the weekend, with just a quarter million dollars between me and boredom; I’ll have you deliver it, not him.’ He stabbed a finger at Bob.

I smiled and acted embarrassed, and then they started. One nice, soft, crumpled, used ten-dollar bill fell into that case and they kept falling like green snowflakes.

‘I know Mr Karl Poster of Funfunn Novelties,’ said the clerk. ‘I know them both in fact, but Mr Poster I know best. I like him.’ He went on packing the dollar bills into the case. ‘Never too busy to pass the time of day.’ He broke one bundle of notes so that he could get half of them down the side of the case. ‘Plays squash at lunchtimes. He’s good, really good, beats me every time. Pro class, I’d say.’

Bob was watching me out of the corner of his eye. The clerk said, ‘So you don’t like him, well I think he’s a nice guy.’

‘We’ve got a dispute with his company,’ I said. ‘They’re slow to pay. Karl Poster is another thing again. I like Karl Poster.’ The funny thing was, I did like him, Karl Poster was my type.

‘He’s a nice guy,’ said the clerk. He closed the case and held it while Bob locked it and snapped the chain and bracelet to his wrist. ‘That should do you now. Get heisted with that, and they take you too.’ The clerk gave a little salute. ‘Take it away colonel,’ he said. ‘Happy weekend.’

3

Silas

Bob and Liz departed exactly on schedule. I turned to the two marks. Jones the short, red-faced one polished his shoes with a Kleenex tissue. He saw me looking at him and tucked the tissue out of sight.

‘I’ll run through the project again,’ I said. ‘I want you to be quite sure of what’s happening. You can still back out of this anytime and no bad feeling.’

Johnny Jones, the shorter of the two, adjusted his monogrammed pocket handkerchief and stretched his hand out in a gesture of friendly negation that revealed a heavy gold wristwatch. He said, ‘You needn’t explain the scheme, Sir Stephen …’

‘Not my way of working,’ I said fiercely. I had them now. People talk of confidence tricks only if they know nothing about them. There is no set trick, no set plan. You get the marks into a state of trance, motivated entirely by their own avarice. Paranoia in reverse I call it, a desire to trust or depend upon. These two fellows were already touring their VIP harem in the Bahamas, or somewhere downtown spending their 78 per cent profit. They hardly heard the words I spoke except in the way that a subject hears the soft assurances of a hypnotist.

I flipped the switch of the squawk-box. ‘Get me Graham in Nassau,’ I said into the dead instrument. ‘Book a call for 5.30.’ I turned to the marks. ‘Unless you are completely au fait with the procedures and the safeguards for your investment then I wouldn’t go ahead.’ I chuckled, ‘I really wouldn’t. Do you know, the year before last, in Rome, I pulled out of a twenty-two million dollar deal, because my old friend the late Alfred Krupp said it was too technical for him to understand it. You see, I want you to test and mistrust me, because I have to test and mistrust the people I deal with.’

Johnny Jones, the short mark, giggled. ‘But you are the most honest man I ever met. Why, the way you followed me out of the Club and gave me back a five dollar bill when I didn’t even remember dropping it. And the way you gave me the key of your apartment when you had only known me for an hour. You are the most trusting guy I ever did meet.’

I looked him straight in the eye and nodded gravely. I said, ‘It’s nothing of which to be proud. The President of a company shouldn’t be too trusting, no matter what his personal feelings. Young Glover is right. When you are running a giant corporation, you’ve no business to trust anyone. He’s right, one of these days I’ll trust the wrong man and God knows what might happen.’ I bit my lip and let them think I’d been a little embarrassed by the argument with Bob.

‘Come on Sir Stevie,’ said Karl. He was the quieter of the two. He was tall and conservatively dressed in a shiny synthetic suit. I thought at first he was going to be trouble, but now I could see that I had them both. I really had them. I could get them dancing naked on the desk top, or throwing themselves out of the window. I was drunk with the power of it and terribly tempted to see how far I could take them. I almost suggested that all of us went out to the airport. I began weaving a fantasy story for them around that idea, imagining Bob’s face and Liz’s fright if I arrived on the airport concourse with these two and had them wave us off on the London flight. Wheeeee …

‘That’s it,’ said the fat one. ‘Let yourself go. A little bit of that son of a gun we met at the Playboy Club the other night.’ I realised that I had Wheeed aloud.

I sat down in the swivel chair, switched on the desk light and put my head under it, pretending that it was a cold shower. Ug. ‘You must forgive me gentlemen,’ I said slowly. ‘But you’ll find that I live two lives. One life is my own and personal, but in the other one I take responsibility for a multi billion dollar corporation with over six hundred thousand employees of all nationalities. Just one foolish error could put all those people out of a job.’

‘And put you out of a job too,’ said Karl. We laughed. According to schedule Bob and Liz would be downstairs and presenting the cheque now. NOW. The fat one said, ‘Work and play are like Scotch and water. Keep them well apart, hey?’ I poured more drinks.

I laughed politely. There was a silence. Johnny, the fat one, reached for a comb and ran it quickly through his thinning hair. I said, ‘You’ve probably heard the story of the English explorers who were attacked by African natives. This tall English chap is struck by a spear and then another, until there are so many spears in him that he looks like a pin cushion. Another member of the expedition looks at him and says, “My goodness, Roger, you are terribly, terribly cut about, you poor feller. Does it hurt?” and the fellow with the spears in him says, “No, by jove, Sydney. Only when I laugh”.’

The marks laughed heartily and so did I. By now those bills should be packing tight into that case. I laughed without hurrying. The fat mark brought out a silk handkerchief and dried his merry eyes. I flipped up the squawk box switch and then switched it off.

I said, ‘That’s a secret signal to me that I should go upstairs for a moment. If you gentlemen would give me fifteen minutes to say goodbye to our Stockholm chief and another ten to arrange an extra security guard for this floor over the weekend, I’ll be right back,’ I paused at the door. ‘What’s more gentlemen, I think this will give you a few minutes to have a private discussion about your investment, without having me here. We’re not bugged here, at least if we are, they haven’t told me.’ We laughed. ‘Remember, there’s no need for a final decision until Monday morning when the bids go in. Tell my secretary and Otis Glover that I will be back in time to take that call to Nassau. Meanwhile look after the key of the safe, there’s a Pentagon Contract in there.’ I turned when I was at the door. ‘Goodness, and my pen from Winnie. No matter, I’ll be back in a moment.’ Karl put the key into his pocket and nodded to me.

I left my roll brim hat ($30), umbrella ($46.50), some leather framed pictures and my old two dollar fountain pen (total $78.50), on the desk.

I went next door. Everything was there waiting for me. I retied my necktie in a loose knot, then I pinned the collar with a large gold pin. A jewelled stickpin went into the front of the tie and onto my fingers I slipped four flashy rings.

I took off my braces and loosened my belt one notch. Then I walked across the room to let my trousers settle on my hips. It changes one’s style of walking quite considerably, or at least it did mine.

I removed the watch chain from my waistcoat and fixed it to my trousers like a key chain. I emptied a small flask of heavily scented oil into my palm and put it on my hair. I rubbed it in, and parted my hair nearer to the middle. I dabbed lotion on my chin and followed it with talc. I climbed into my vicuna coat that Bob had worn earlier. I tied the belt, turned up my collar and put on a white fedora and dark glasses. Sal Lombardo. The whole process took less than sixty seconds.

I hit the button for the express lift. Mick was in it. I saw his nose wrinkle as my perfumes wafted over to him.

‘Going to the big fight?’

‘Ya,’ I said hoarsely, ‘I sure am buddy.’

‘That Zapello will get a beating I’m thinking.’

‘Beating smeeting. The champ’s going into da tank. Don’t waste your money on dat bum.’

‘Is that right? Do you know him?’

‘Know him? I own both dose bambinos.’

‘Is that right,’ said Mick respectfully. We travelled on in silence. On the street level I got out. Mick said, ‘Goodbye mister.’

‘Ciao,’ I shouted. ‘Ciao baby, ciao.’ I hurried across the lobby. The Lincoln hire car was waiting outside. ‘I’m Sal Lombardo,’ I told him. ‘The Pan Am Building and make it snappy.’

‘Sure thing,’ said the driver.

The Pan Am building was just a couple of minutes away, from its roof the scheduled helicopter was about to leave. I didn’t hurry, my seat was booked and young Bob and Liz were already seated. In separate seats of course. I looked at my watch. The whole operation had been timed and costed out to perfection, apart from a small matter of 25 cents on the cab bill because of a traffic jam. That was entirely Bob’s responsibility and I decided to make him pay it out of his own pocket. From Kennedy there was the connecting jet for London, everything was exactly on schedule.

My God I was tired. My dark glasses blacked out the world, and I was appreciative of that. I’d had enough of the world for a few hours. From a few rows behind me I could hear Bob’s voice. He was teaching the stewardess a trick with two dice, and they were both giggling. They were annoying all the other passengers, as well as being far too conspicuous for my taste. My God, Bob was carrying all the money in that case of his. You’d think that just for once he would have been content to be quiet. I wish I had let him bring that damn book about archaeology with him, but it would have looked suspicious, a security guard in uniform carrying ‘Our Civilisation Begins – an illustrated encyclopedia for little folk.’

I tipped the white fedora over my eyes. I had tired of being Sal Lombardo. I wished that I had remained Sir Stephen Latimer for the plane journey to London. I’d have got better service as Latimer, especially on a British airline.

Each of us was travelling alone. God I was tired. I’m always tired when it’s over. It’s the responsibility, the planning, the tension and judgment. Sometimes a last minute decision can throw the whole strategy into reverse. It was no use looking to the others for help or guidance. Bob was a child. At best he was a waif with the moral judgment of a five year old, at worst a young felon. Liz was older and more responsible and I loved her, but she was still in her twenties, and still a young, silly impressionable girl, behind the thin veneer of sophistication that I had supplied. I loved Liz and I was fond of Bob but sometimes I wondered what I was doing with them. Tonight I would have given everything I owned for an evening’s conversation. I missed that, more than anything. Sometimes I’d try to remember old conversations I’d had many years ago, arguments in the mess, long long discussions sitting in a tank in the middle of the desert. They were all gone now, the replacements were never the same as the men you had trained with.

That’s true of life too, the friends you make after you are twenty-five are not like your old friends. My old friends are gone. Still in the desert. They all went the same night, at least nearly all of them did. Liz’s father died that night. The Regiment lost twenty officers, and the regiment never truly recovered. Neither did I.

‘Wake up Silas,’ said Captain Leadbetter. I hadn’t fully recovered from the explosion and fire. I opened my eyes, Leadbetter looked quite a mess. His face was covered with grey dust, his chin unshaven, hair messed up, and the front of his shirt was caked with dark brown blotches. He saw me staring at it. ‘Not mine,’ he said. ‘My gunner’s.’ He spoke in that anxious, top-speed way, that children bring home news from school.

‘Colonel Mason, Dusty, Perce, Major Graham, Major Little, Sergeant Hughes and Chichester in the first five minutes. Bloody eighty eight of course. Should see them. Turrets just fly off and land twenty yards away. Bertie led C Squadron in then, but it took him a few minutes to form up, so they had ranged him in. I got out riding on the back of Frogmorton’s tank. Bloody hot, I’ll tell you, with those 88’s chucking it over. Froggie didn’t know I was there for half a mile, what a lark. We’ve lost eighteen tanks destroyed and another three damaged and abandoned. Jerry will have them repaired and in action again tomorrow, you see. They’ll be shooting at us.’

I got to my feet. Leadbetter started to talk again, but I silenced him. ‘We’ve lost the colonel?’

‘That’s what I’m telling you; the Colonel, Dusty, Perce, Graham and Major Little, and Sergeant Pearce, Sergeant Brophy, Staff Foreman.’

‘You mean their tanks, didn’t they get out?’

‘You haven’t seen these 88’s Silas. There’s no getting out, they just blow you apart, bits fly like feathers from a pheasant hit fair and square. They laid down H.E. after they’d clobbered us, and then they put infantry in. We won’t see any of them again Silas.’