Chapter Five: Pigeon Drop
The porterhouse steak and baked sweet potato were too large for Neal to finish. He had already eaten the salad and a roll. He wasn't a big eater and had grown accustomed to skipping meals throughout the years, which showed in his lean frame. He had taken up weight training at the insistence of Uncle Austin so he could be strong enough to carry his own weight—so to speak. Moving the meat around his plate, he hated to waste it but had no additional room in his stomach and didn't want to make himself sick. It was delicious; the restaurant's ratings had been accurate. On the other side of the bar sat his Uncle Austin dressed nicely in a suit and tie. They made no eye contact. Uncle Austin had no problem putting away every morsel of food on his plate, Neal observed.
Motioning his hands toward the bartender, Neal indicated that he was ready for his check.
"Do ya want a doggy bag," the man asked.
"Uh…no…thanks," Neal answered, fumbling around with his back pockets looking for his wallet.
The man stood and stared at Neal, his facial expression growing more and more disgusted as Neal continued patting down his pockets and coming up empty handed.
"Don't tell me," the man stated, "You don't have any money."
Neal smiled, "I do…but…my wallet doesn't seem to be in my pocket. I must have left it at home."
"You've got to be kidding me," the man gruffly stated. "That's the damn oldest trick in the book, kid."
"No…I…have money…I swear," Neal timidly stated to him looking at the man with the sweetest, most sincere expression he could muster up.
"Yeah, I've heard that shit before," the man said, grabbing Neal by the back of his shirt. "I should have known. You don't look like you carry around 50 bucks for a meal. Hell, you don't even look like you have five bucks to your name."
"I promise," Neal begged, "My grandpa died and left me a little money. I have money."
The man slightly loosened his grip on the back of Neal's shirt.
"Here," Neal said thrusting his right hand toward the man. "He left me this ring, too."
The man looked down at Neal's hand.
"I think these are gold nuggets and that a diamond. My grandpa lived in Alaska most of his life. It's probably not worth too much, but my meal was…what…$45? It's gotta be worth more than that. Maybe you could hold my grandpa's ring while I go home to get my wallet," Neal offered, handing the man the supposed antique Rail Design gold nugget ring.
"This better not be no scam," the man said, tightening his grip on the back of Neal's shirt.
"No, sir," Neal answered, displaying the most innocent expression in his eyes. He knew that if the man would just look into his eyes that he could trap him. The man was looking him up and down and had not yet locked eyes with Neal.
"Come on, Frank," a woman's voice drifted out from behind the bar. The woman emerged, wiping her hands on a bar towel and placing it on the counter before walking over to where Neal and the man she called Frank were standing.
Frank just looked at her.
"He looks like a good kid," the woman said, looking directly into Neal's eyes.
Neal knew that he was sealing the deal now.
"Yes ma'am, I am. I've never stolen anything in my life. I just accidentally left my wallet at home," Neal continued. The woman looked younger than Frank but had that hard-working look in her eyes and on her hands.
"Okay, give me that damn ring. You better get back here in 30 minutes or I'm calling the law," the man threatened.
"Yes, sir….I will," Neal answered. He then scurried out the front door.
"Liv, if this is a scam, then you're washing the bar glasses for a month," Frank challenged.
"Oh come on, Frank, he looked like he didn't have a mean bone in his body," Liv answered him, smacking him over the head with the bar towel. Have a little faith. He'll be back. You'll see," Liv answered, picking up the towel and retreating to the kitchen behind the bar.
Austin looked up from his empty apple pie plate. "May I see that ring," he asked Frank, putting money down to pay his check, which included a hefty tip. Frank glanced down at the stack of bills.
"Sure," Frank answered, handing the ring to Austin.
Austin sniggered.
"Do you know something I don't," Frank asked.
"I can't be for certain without double checking some books, but I think this ring is an antique Alaskan gold nugget ring," Austin said. Then moving his hand up and down, he stated, "It's pretty heavy, too. I bet this ring is worth over $5,000. Like I said, I can't be certain, but I've seen them before in some of my estate books.
Frank stared wide eyed.
"Listen, I have to go to a meeting. Here's my card," Austin said, handing to Frank his phony business card that identified him as an estate lawyer. "Do me a favor, please. When that kid gets back, have him call me at this number. I can help him locate reputable appraisers and antique dealers," Austin said in a professional manner, writing his cell phone number on the back of the business card. He used his real number and planned to continue playing an estate lawyer in case the couple called him so he wouldn't be identified as part of the scam. He knew that the only call he might receive from them would be one telling him that the ring was worthless and that the kid had scammed them.
"Okay," Frank agreed.
Austin left, and Frank stood holding the ring and business card, contemplating his fate.
"Liv," he hollered toward the back kitchen.
"Yeah," she hollered back.
"Do you feel like a little investment," he asked, still in a raised voice as she had not yet entered the bar area.
"What do you mean," she asked as she came into the bar.
"That suit sitting over there was an estate lawyer who said he thought this ring was worth over $5,000," Frank excitedly stated.
"So…the ring belongs to that kid, Frank," Liv answered.
"Well, we could get it from him. I mean buy it, Liv," Frank said, seeing the disgusted look on her face.
"Frank, come on. He said it belonged to his grandpa. Just give it back when he comes to settle up with us," Liv implored.
"Come on, baby. We could actually make a nice little profit. We could go to those Cayman Islands you've always been talking about," Frank negotiated.
"Do whatever you want. He may not even return…much less sell you the damn thing," Liv answered.
Ten minutes later Neal returned as promised with several minutes to spare. He caught Frank's eyes from behind the bar and nodded at him, pushing upward a fifty dollar bill toward Frank's eyesight.
"Hey, kid, I've been thinking. You look like you could actually use the money. Your meal's on the house, okay," Frank offered.
Neal responded, "What? No, sir…my daddy always taught me to pay for everything I get."
"Really, it's okay, kid. You didn't even eat half of it, anyway. Wasn't it good," Frank asked.
"Oh, yeah. It was just huge," Neal answered, still holding on to the bill.
"Ya know…I kinda like that ring of your grandpa's. I've always wanted to go to Alaska, ya know…but this restaurant keeps me tied down seven days a week," Frank said.
"I'm sorry," Neal responded.
"But anyway, I was thinking…how 'bout you sellin' this ring to me," Frank asked, looking into Neal's eyes.
"No, sir…I can't do that. My grandpa gave me that ring in his will. I know it's not worth too much, but it was my grandpa's…and I loved him," Neal said, embellishing the story a little more. He even brought tears into his steely blue eyes.
For a brief moment, Frank almost felt sorry for the young man. Quickly brought back to the reality of the situation, Frank offered, "I'll give you $2,000 for that ring. It's probably not worth that, but you look like you could use the money. I'm a good Christian man, ya know?"
Neal acted as though he was mulling over the deal. After a moment, he stated, "I just can't."
"Okay," Frank upped the ante, "I'll give ya $2,500…and that's my final offer."
"Oh my God…I really could use that kind of money for college next year. My folks are broke and I want to go to college," Neal responded.
Frank raised his eyebrows. Liv said nothing. She couldn't understand her husband's insistence on having that ring, and she felt sorry for the kid for her husband deceiving him. She knew from experience that nothing in life was free or easy.
"Okay," Neal said. "But I'd like cash…no checks. The bank would frown on a kid like me having a check that size."
"No problem," Frank answered. He went into his backroom office and emerged with a thick envelope and opened it up for Neal to see that what was inside was actually 25 Benjamins and not cut up newspaper.
Neal calmly took the envelope and gave one last look at his supposed grandpa's antique Alaskan gold nugget ring and stated, "Take good care of it, okay?"
"Don't worry, kid, I will," Frank answered.
Neal thrust through the restaurant doors and into the street with the envelope in his jacket pocket and the fifty dollar bill still in his hand. His smile was expansive across his face. Turning the corner, he saw Uncle Austin's car and waved it down.
"Did you do good, kid," Austin asked.
Neal responded by flashing the envelope.
"How many Benjamins," Austin inquired.
"25," Neal answered.
"Shit kid! When you go after grand larceny, you go after in a big way. I'm proud of you," Austin yelled.
They rode several blocks before Austin spoke again, "Got a proposition for you, kid."
Neal answered, "Yeah?"
"Tell your ole man they didn't go for it, and you and I can split it up. I'll take $2,000—to make it worth my while—and you can have $500," Austin propositioned.
"No way, man. He's about killed me for much less. If I did that, then I'm all but hammering the nails into my own coffin," Neal answered, shaking his head from side to side.
"I can back your play, kid. Trust me. I can be pretty convincing, too. Think about it. That's enough money that you could leave this hell-hole and start over somewhere else away from that mean bastard who calls himself your father. If you don't get out soon, then one day you're not going to walk away from that gun held to your temple," Austin stated.
Neal considered what his Uncle Austin was saying. He seemed concerned, but Neal was confused as to why his Uncle Austin would actually encourage him to leave their con-team. He thought Uncle Austin needed him, but he had known this man for nine years now and trusted him probably more than anyone else in his life. If Uncle Austin was encouraging him to leave the team, he probably should consider that recommendation.
"You're gonna back my play? You promise," Neal tentatively asked.
"Kid, you can trust me," Austin answered.
They devised a story to tell Laurence that the couple didn't go for the scam and had given Neal the ring back when he returned to settle up his tab. Austin would reinforce the story by embellishing it with fabricated pieces of the conversation between the couple after Neal had left. Austin knew that Laurence would not question him; it was the perfect story.
Neal received an empty Beam bottle thrown against his back for his incompetence in not getting the couple to buy his con. The pain shot through Neal's ribs, but he was too excited about the five Benjamins hiding in his shoe to think too much about the pain.
"So, did you and Uncle Austin get away with it," Peter questioned, adding a sarcastic tone to Detective Austin Hanks' name.
Neal noticed the tone and ambiguously answered, "Well, yes and no."
Peter sat back and awaited Neal's explanation.
