by Samuel King
He gasped loudly; his head fell back. "Jesus, Katie. You keep that up and I swear I'll lose it, girl, right here."
"Don't ya do that," she said, laughing. After falling back into her chair she began to rub her foot against his calf once more.
He stared at her open-mouthed. "You're trouble if any woman ever was. I should get outta here, but m'feet won't move."
Kate laughed again. Her foot continued to move… up and down his calf.
"What am I gettin' m'self into?" he wondered aloud.
"Oh, you'll see soon enough, Jimmy. You'll see."
***
By morning Jimmy had seen, but so had Kate, finding in his arms everything she'd imagined and more—much more. While he was every bit the man the local girls had whispered and giggled about, he was also gentle and kind to a fault. More importantly, he'd made her feel beautiful… even after she removed the wig.
And now, even as she sat across from him at her mother's kitchen table, he'd done something else as well. He'd told her, no, showed her she was special, and though she knew it to be nothing more than his clever conjuring, she allowed herself to believe. It had, after all, been a long while since she'd been special to anyone.
"So what d'ya call this white stuff, again?" he asked, sizing up the plate she'd just set before him.
"Grits. We eat it all the time down south."
"But you're a local girl."
"I am, but I've been in Atlanta for a while now."
He tasted the grits and smiled. "Not bad."
"Glad you like them."
Peering over her coffee cup, she watched as he ate and occasionally peered back at her—eyes filled with a hunger breakfast wouldn't satisfy. It seemed he never tired of looking, even after a long night in which he'd come to know all of her, including the real hair that had eventually replaced the long red trusses. She wistfully reached for them before sheepishly withdrawing her hand.
"So why the wig?" he asked, smiling.
"You know what they say about first impressions. I wanted to put m'best foot forward."
"How's that?"
"It's the way my hair looked a few months ago, and it's the way it'll look again, someday." She fluffed her hair, briefly. "I can't stand this."
"So why'dya cut it, then?"
"Had to. An operation we were runnin'."
"Oh, no! You're not gonna tell me more about that railroad shit, are ya?"
"It's all true, Jimmy. Every bit of it."
"Why would a girl like you ever get involved in somethin' like that?"
"It's a long story, but the strangest part is, I came home to get you."
"What?"
"That's right. We've got a job for ya back in Atlanta."
"A job? What kind of job?"
"A con job, of course."
"A con? Me?"
"Don't be coy, Jimmy. Everybody knows how ya go around scammin' people out of nickels and dimes. Ya even took my mum for a few bucks, once. That's why I had'ta sneak ya in here last night."
"The hell, I did."
"The hell, ya didn't. But it's okay. We're gonna give ya a chance to play for some real money, no more small potatoes."
"What do you know about that kind of action?"
"Not much, but I think you're the man who can teach us."
"Really?"
"Uh-huh."
"So all the huffin' and puffin' last night was about getting' me ta Atlanta?"
"No. Well, not all of it."
"Yah? Which part of it, then?"
She hesitated, wondering if she should admit to thinking of little else but him since the meeting, just twenty-four hours earlier. "Look, I came here to recruit ya, sure enough. But I'm allowed some personal feelin's too."
"Oh, don't give me the hearts and flowers. Ya played me like a cheap harmonica."
"That's not true, and you know it!"
"Yeah, what do I know, Kate?"
"How I feel about ya."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Who knew we'd so good together."
He set his fork down and stared at her, chewing. "Yeah," he said after a while. "So when are ya goin' back?"
"This afternoon."
"You're kiddin'."
"Afraid not. I'm not here on vacation, Jimmy."
"Well, I guess not," he said, chuckling. "You must've thought I'd be pretty easy."
"Not easy—eager, ambitious."
"Ambitious? To play your stupid little con, whatever it is, that's never gonna work?"
"We think it will."
"That's because none of ya knows your ass from a hole in the wall."
"What the hell? It's only Atlanta. Even if it doesn't work, you could stick around for a while. Who knows, maybe we could get somethin' goin'."
"Yeah? Well, I got a better idea. Why don't you stay home. Forget about those loons down south, and we'll see what we can get goin' between us right here."
"I can't do that. People are countin' on me."
"Jesus." He folded his arms and pushed away from the table.
"There's money in it, real money for a change."
"I can smell money, Kate, and you people don't have a pot ta piss in."
"We'll give ya twenty-five percent of whatever we make."
"Twenty-five percent of nothin' is nothin'."
Rising from her chair, she walked around the table and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hell, you could try doin' somethin' good for a change."
"I'm not interested in good, Kate, especially when it concerns your damn life size cartoons."
"That's not what they are."
"Can't prove it by me."
"Well, why don't ya come down and meet ‘em for yaself."
"I ain't no vagabond, ya know. I got a life here. Besides, I've been workin' somethin', and I'm about to score in the next day or two. Actual money, Kate, not bullshit pie in the sky."
"Come with me," she said, kissing his ear. "I'll make it worth your while."
"Is that a fact?"
She nodded.
"You must be pretty sure of yaself," he said, and when she shrugged in reply he slipped an arm around her waist. "Pretty sure, indeed."
"Naaah, I just know how I feel about ya, Jimmy, that's all."
He lifted her hand from his shoulder and kissed it. "Welll, I suppose I could put this other thing off for a while."
"So, you'll come?"
"As if ya didn't already know."
"What am I s'posed ta know?"
Looking up at her with a broad smile, he gently kissed her hand. "Hell, Katie, for you I'd go just about anywhere."
***
Twenty-four hours before finding himself seated at a dining room table with Kate and her friends, Doherty had been shooting craps in a South Boston pool hall. What a difference a day makes. He still didn't know what to make of his situation.
Her mission accomplished, Kate seemed content, pleased with herself much as her friends seemed pleased with her. As she made small talk with them she sat bolt upright, hands clasped before her on the table, prim and proper. They shoulda seen her just a few hours ago. The thought put a smile on his face.
"And just what are you smilin' about, Jimmy Doherty?" she asked, with a smile of her own.
"Oh, I was just thinkin' you guys don't look like railroad types to me."
"What the hell is he talking about?" Freeman demanded.
"Back in Boston I told him we were like the Underground Railroad."
"The what?"
"Jeez, Bobby," she snapped. "Don't ya know any history at all?"
Before he could respond, Joel said to him, "It was an organization that took care of runaway slaves three hundred years ago—some of your ancestors, I believe." Turning to Kate, he added, "Very ingenious. I never thought of it like that."
Doherty studied him. He seemed different from the others: cool and distant. "Let me guess. You're the honcho, right?" When Joel answered his inquiry with a shrug, he turned to Freeman. "And you?"
"I steal
shit."
"I see. Are ya any good?"
"Before I got involved with these fanactics, I did okay for myself."
"Ah-hah." Finally he turned to Helen. Kate had warned him about her beauty, and he could sense the redhead watching him—closely. Not ta worry, Darlin'. She's not my type.
"I'm with him," she said, pointing to Joel.
"She's far too modest," Joel replied. "Helen has been a vital member of our group ever since we freed her. It was her idea that brings you to us."
"You mean this so-called con Kate's been danglin' in front of me."
"That's right. We need money and fast. Helen came up with the idea of a scam. Bobby knows about a fat poker game, and Kate knew about you. How's that for a group effort?"
"Well, that's marvelous, Joel, except for one thing."
"What's that?"
"Cards ain't m'specialty. I dabble in it but nothin' big like you're talkin' about. If these guys are playin' for real money, they're probably pretty good."
"Doesn't matter," Freeman said.
"And why is that?"
"You don't have to win the money; we're going to steal it."
"That's right," Joel continued. "Your job is to get yourself into the game. Then we crash it and grab the money."
"You crash it and grab the money," he repeated. "Just like that, huh?"
"No," Joel said. "Not just like that. You're forgetting that we—Helen and I—have certain capabilities you humans don't. We can get in and out of places at the press of a button. All we need is a functioning holo system on both ends."
Doherty nodded deferentially. In and out like vapor. "Yeah, I suppose that would give ya a certain advantage, wouldn't it?"
"So what d'ya think, Jimmy?" Kate asked.
Not bad. He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. "Might work."
"No might about it," Freeman snorted. "If you can get into that game, we'll make it work." The rest of the team nodded.
"You people are pretty sure of yaselves, aren't ya?"
"You'll have to forgive us if we seem a little confident, Mr. Doherty," Joel replied. "We've run a few operations, and we've always been successful. Everyone here is dedicated to the cause."
Like a dark cloud on an otherwise sunny day, an embarrassed silence suddenly descended upon the gathering. Kate's head sank. Freeman rolled his eyes. Helen looked straight ahead and said nothing.
"You betcha, Joel," Doherty said, chuckling. "We're all here for the cause."
***
He still harbored doubts about the operation, even as the others prattled on, confident of success. A more experienced practitioner of the big con would have given it a pass—so much could go wrong, so little talent. A lifetime of small capers and petty crimes had left him hungry for such an opportunity, however, and as his new found comrades laid their plans, he listened half-heartedly, daydreaming about the big score.
"Do you have any input, Mr. Doherty?" Joel asked, rousing him.
"Huh? Oh… Well, if I'm ta be hobnobbin' with high rollers, I need ta look the part, don't I? Whether its business suits or leisure ware, it's gotta be quality."
"Of course. Do we have enough money to dress him properly?" Joel asked.
Freeman shrugged. "I think I can rent a couple of suits with what we have."
"Good. Now, what's the story on those prepaid chips?"
"That's a problem. He'll need two hundred thousand just to get in the game. I can get a chip with that amount, but the fee is twenty-five percent."
"Jesus," Kate muttered. "What about a counterfeit?"
"Don't even think about it," Freeman answered. "Those chips are linked to black market money pools controlled by some real nasty guys. You steal from them and you'll end up with your head in one place and the rest of you somewhere else."
"So, we get the use of a chip with two hundred on it," Joel said. "And when we give it back, it's got to have two-fifty."
"Or, it's my ass," Freeman said, nodding.
"Wonderful," Helen muttered. "So, tell me, once we get these chips what do we do with them?"
"Depends. You'd be surprised what you can get on the black market with them. If you have to go legit, you take it to a cleaner. They'll get it into a bank for ten percent."
"I guess you can have just about anything for a percentage," Joel observed.
"Just about," Freeman answered, smiling. "Except true love, of course."
They all chuckled at his wit, with the exception of a bored Doherty. "All this is very interestin'," he said. "But it's not my concern. I need a way to meet this guy. Can you introduce me, Bobby?"
"No way," Freeman answered. "I told you, I'm just a delivery boy."
"Still, ya talk to the guy, don't ya?"
"A little."
"Well, tell him ya know another customer that plays cards."
Joel interrupted with a sigh. "I'm afraid that won't work. Anything that draws a direct line between you two is a non-starter. It would expose Bobby, and he'd have to go underground. That would cripple us."
"Okay. Then we'll have ta come at him with somethin' he's interested in, somethin' he wants."
When everyone turned to Freeman, the thief frowned and said, "Hell, I don't know. All he ever talked to me about was cards… Oh, and his days mining the asteroid belt."
"Not much help there," Doherty observed. "Ya need ta give me a little more than that, Sport. Or… some time ta work on this mark."
"How much time?" Joel asked.
"I don't know. A week or two, maybe more."
"That time frame really doesn't work for us," Joel said.
"Then give me somethin' ta work with, Boss man."
For nearly a minute they seemed to settle into a funk until Helen offered, "Maybe I could help."
"Huh? How's that?" Joel asked.
"Well, maybe you could use me as bait."
Doherty scratched his head. "Bait, Darlin'?"
"You know, I could-uh, pretend—"
"Shit!" Freeman exclaimed. "That's it. This guy also thinks he's some kind of lady's man. Dangle Helen in front of him, and he'll do just about anything. We'll make Irish here, her pimp."
"Oh, no," Joel said. "Not the whore thing again."
"What's wrong with it?" Kate snapped. "It was okay when I played it." No sooner had the words left her mouth, than she gasped and covered it, looking sheepishly at Doherty.
"Whoa, what's this?" he asked.
"Never mind that," Freeman said. "Can you play a pimp, or not?"
"Don't ya worry about me. With her on m'arm, I'll get your mark to do whatever ya want."
"Alright," Joel said, bringing his hands together. "Now all we need to do is find a way to get you and Bobby's friend in the same place at the same time."
"Simple," Freeman said. "The Regency."
Joel seemed surprised. "The Regency?"
"Yah, it's perfect. He hangs out there all the time… to get players for his game and pick up girls mostly."
"How the hell are ya going to get him into the Regency?" Kate asked. "Unless you're connected, ya can't get into their club if ya don't have a room, and those are ten thousand a night with triple ‘A' credit."
"We'll get him in there," Freeman said. "I just have to get hold of a bug."
"Now, what the hell is that?" Joel asked.
"Transfer chip with a built in virus," Freeman explained. "Makes it look like you've got plenty of dough and good credit. Problem is, they're expensive. It'll cost ten thousand just to rent one for a day."
Joel began massaging his temples again. "I'm assuming we can pay the fee after we use it."
"Sure, but we better score, or once again, I'm in a world of shit."
"I know, Bobby," Joel said, wearily. "I know."
Doherty cleared his throat. "There's another problem, Joel."
"What's that?"
"Those things are dangerous. Simple possession will get ya five years; actual use will get ya ten." He placed his hands on the table and leaned back
in his chair. "It raises the stakes quite a bit."
"Oh, no ya don't," Kate muttered.
Looking first at Doherty then at her, Joel asked, "What?"
"He's angling' for a bigger cut. That's what."
"It's only fair," Doherty replied. "I'm takin' most of the risk."
"Don't try to play us, Jimmy," Kate fumed. "We agreed on twenty-five percent."
"Sure, but I didn't realize I'd be riskin' ten years."
"What do you want, Mr. Doherty?" Joel asked.
"A third."
"A third?" Kate shouted. "No way!"
"Enough, Kate, please," Joel said. "A third will be fine."
"But…"
"It's okay."
"Glaring at Doherty, Kate said, "Well, it's not okay with me. A deal's a deal, Jimmy."
Realizing he'd embarrassed Kate in front of her friends, Doherty tried to placate her. "C'mon, Kate, it's just business. Don't make it personal."
She folded her arms and looked away from him, muttering, "Maybe you'll see just how personal I can make it."
Freeman chuckled, ogling Kate. "Man, that was an expensive raise," he said.
"And who asked ya, Mr. I-don't-know-shit-about-m'own-history?"
"Fuck you, man."
"Ah, fuck yaself."
"Stop it!" Joel shouted. "We don't have time for this. You two better learn to get along."
"Tell this asshole ta keep his wise ass comments ta himself and we'll get along just fine," Doherty said.
"All I said was—"
"We all know what you said, Bobby," Joel said. "Now can we please get back to business?"
"No problem," the thief replied, sulking.
"Good. Now, when's the next game?"
"He usually plays on Friday."
"Is four days enough time?"
"Well, I can get everything we need, by tomorrow," Freeman answered. "That gives Irish here, Wednesday and Thursday to get himself into the game."
Rubbing his chin, Joel asked, "Do we know if he'll be at the Regency then?"
"Not sure, but he goes there a lot—probably two or three times a week."
"What about it, Mr. Doherty?"
"If he shows Wednesday, no problem. Thursday is chancy but doable. With any luck it should only take one day."
"Well, if he doesn't show, we can try for next week's game," Joel observed.
"A week is pushing it," Freeman said. "Normally the bug and the prepaid chip rent by the day. We hold them for a week and the fee is much bigger."