The Benedict Job: a different perspective by InSilva

Disclaimer: characters, not mine; lines from film, not mine; rest, mine. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter Nine: Saul

A/N: not sure how it reads, but it was one of my favourite bits to write so far.


Before everything, even before Danny, there had been Saul. Robert Charles Ryan could, if pushed, talk about his early years: a nickname that stuck that came from his six-year-old classmate, Barbara Everett's inability to say Rob C Ryan; or on to less lightweight matters, a parent dying, a parent walking out; being left with an indifferent aunt who didn't want him, didn't care for him and who certainly didn't bother when he decided he was old enough to leave and make his own way. In fact, Rusty would have bet she was more concerned about the money he'd lifted from her purse. He spent his first 48 hours of independence cold-sweating that she'd sent the police after him until he realised she'd thought the loss a fair exchange to be rid of him.

Robert Charles Ryan could also tell you about his life from then on till Saul found him. He could but he wouldn't. Saul knew part, Danny knew more and both thought they could guess the rest but no one really knew all except Rusty.

Saul had saved him. He'd bought Rusty breakfast and he'd offered him a place to stay with him and Annie, no strings. "Remind me of my kid brother," he'd said gruffly and Rusty had thought at the time there must have been a big age gap. Even then, Saul was old.

Annie turned out to be everything Rusty had missed out on as a kid. In no time at all he idolised her almost as much as Saul did. Life, for once, was sweet.

"There are things you need to know the answers to in this life, Robert," Saul said to him after he'd lived with them a little while. "Whether you prefer to sleep with men or women…whether you want to eat meat or not…what religion you want to follow…but the most important thing you need to decide on is what your talents are and what line of work they best fit you for."

Rusty had smiled because he was pretty clear on at least two of those. By then, he knew what Saul's own line of work was and he felt sure that world was made for him. His education started in earnest. Control, card-counting, sleight of hand, short cons, long cons, distraction, diversion, disguise…. Saul it was who trained him on the importance of blending in, of background work, of checking the angles and calculating the percentages.

At school he had been a distinctly average pupil, uninspired by what was being taught, doing what he needed to do to get by. Under Saul's tutelage, he blossomed: he soaked up knowledge, practising and practising till he had mastered techniques, till he was fluent in the con.

Danny and he met through Saul. Danny was all vision and charisma and persuasion and the "what": Rusty was all observation and charm and implementation and the "how". Saul saw the fit before they did and they felt the fit before they understood it.

Saul was there at the beginning, at his beginning, at the beginning of Danny and him.

Danny sending him to ask was clever because his connection was just that much longer, just that much stronger than Danny's.

Annie's death eight years ago had aged Saul further. It had started his health problems and when he had announced his retirement to St Petersburg, Rusty was glad that he would at least have some time to himself. He had earned that.

To take him out of safety and security, to take a sick, old man that he owed so much to and to put him in danger, to make it so that at best, he would be looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was there and at worst, that he would not be looking anywhere again…

Danny sending him to ask was shrewd because although Rusty was ready to let Saul go if he seemed happy and square it with Danny later, there was every chance that maybe, just maybe Saul was not that happy at all.

And then, there was the job. It demanded the best. Anyone second class would not do. They needed Saul even if he didn't need them.

Danny sending him to ask was quite the masterstroke; he had to ask him: there was no one else.


He found Saul at the dog track. Standing in the crowd, he played with the silver ring on his right hand as he watched Saul studying the programme, peering at the dogs on parade and carefully marking off his bets. There was something in Saul's manner, a deliberation that Rusty noticed, because after all, Rusty could read people: Saul had taught him.

When Saul moved, it was almost a shuffle. He was seemingly blind to the impatience of those who wanted to get past him. He kept his head down as he pottered off to the bookies, another old-timer enjoying a day out. Rusty propped up the wall as Saul handed his money over to the cashier at the window. A couple of times he said things and Saul asked him to repeat them. He picked up his betting slips and put them in his pocket then nodded to the cashier before turning away.

Rusty smiled because by now, he was convinced Saul was playing a part: to perfection, naturally. He picked up some tickets for box seats – better views and better privacy – and tailed Saul to the terraces. Saul was sitting on a bench, busy peeling an orange. As Rusty leaned on the back of the bench, he didn't even look up.

"I saw you in the paddock before the second race, outside the men's room, when I placed my bet," he said, concentrating on the orange. "I saw you before you even got up this morning."

With that, Rusty made up his mind. Saul had to be in: his instincts were as sharp as ever.

"How've you been, Saul?" he asked.

"Never better," came the firm answer.

"What's with the orange?" Rusty was curious.

"My doctor says I need vitamins."

"So why don't you take vitamins?" It seemed logical to Rusty.

"You come here to give me a physical?"

"I got box seats," Rusty offered. "Come on."

They made their way through the crowd to the upper tier seats.

"Danny sent you," Saul said matter-of-factly as they climbed the steps. "You'd never come otherwise. Must be something big to make you come visit an old man you don't really want to bother."

He wants to know…Rusty's heart gave a leap.

They stopped by the refreshment stand and Rusty picked up a jelly dessert while Saul ordered a coffee.

"You still eat rubbish?" Saul said looking pointedly at the sweet snack.

"Coffee's not that healthy," Rusty replied.

"Bet you drink that too. By the time you're my age – you should live so long – you'll wish you'd taken better care of yourself." He looked Rusty over. "Sure you look good now. You wait till middle age hits. It'll all catch up with you."

He took a sip of coffee as the dogs were called to the traps.

"Which dog we're cheering for?" Rusty asked, spooning the jelly into his mouth.

Saul consulted his tickets. "Number 4. 'Wait till Christmas'."

Rusty read the ticket upside down. "At those odds, you probably will be."

Saul harrumphed. "So you gonna tell me? Or should I just say no and get it over with?"

Curious. He's curious. Which means we're halfway there.

"Saul, you're the best there is. You're in Cooperstown." He meant it. Saul was a legend. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Saul said firmly. "I got a duplex now. I got wall to wall and a goldfish. I'm seeing a nice lady who works the unmentionables counter at Macy's. I've changed."

Rusty had to call him on that.

"Guys like us don't change, Saul. We stay sharp or we get sloppy, but we don't change."

"Quit conning me."

Rusty grinned. He looked at the race which was underway. "That your hound way in the rear there?"

"He breaks late. Everyone knows this."

Rusty and Saul watched the dog round the last bend. Still in last place.

"So you gonna treat me like a grown-up at least?" Saul complained "Tell me what the scam is?"

And Rusty knew, just knew...

Reaching in to his inner pocket, he pulled out a plane ticket and handed it over, leaning in as he did so and whispering in Saul's ear. "Finally, a job to match you, Saul. Be at Reuben's, eight o'clock Saturday."

Confident, he clapped Saul on the shoulder, then stood and walked away.


He phoned Danny from the airport.

"Saul's in," he said and could feel Danny's relief without needing to hear him say a word.

"Head for Vegas," Danny said. "Meet me in Solly's bar."

Rusty trailed back to Vegas and found Danny and a whisky sour waiting for him at the little no-star hotel tucked away at the back of the MGM. It was slightly run-down, slightly seedy, very empty. Perfect for two men who didn't want everyone knowing their business.

"How was he?" Danny asked as he sat down.

"Made me work a little. Not too hard. Timing was right."

He let out a yawn and stretched.

Don't tell me you're running out of steam before we start.

I'll last.

"Going to speak to Reuben tomorrow about a dedicated working space," Rusty said, leaning forward on his elbows and sipping the whisky. He rolled his head on his shoulders as if trying to dislodge some knotted tension. As he did so, he caught sight of Danny's face, his lips twitching.

"Don't worry, I'm not asking you for a massage."

"I'll go get us a room," Danny offered, turning towards reception and then turning back again.

That wasn't related.

I'm quite certain.

As Danny disappeared, Rusty stretched forward along the bar, resting his head on his arms. He was weary, even if he wasn't going to admit it to Danny. The adrenalin rush that had kicked in three nights ago was fading now that the recruitment drive was coming to an end. The jetlag wasn't helping. And he couldn't stop the little niggle at the back of his mind that they still didn't have enough resource. He wondered if Danny felt the same.

An ad for the Lewis fight started to play on the television and he stared at it dully, barely registering Danny's return behind him. They watched the ad together.

"And Saul makes ten," Danny said. "Ten ought to do it, you think?"

The back of Rusty's head was non-committal.

"You think we need one more?"

The back of Rusty's head considered another recruit to be prudent but wasn't going to push things.

"You think we need one more."

The back of Rusty's head did actually, if it were pressed.

"OK, we'll get one more."

The back of Rusty's head relaxed.