Stone Cold Con

By Bill Pether

In Sports, you exploit your opponent's weaknesses, taking advantage of your strengths. While executing your gameplan with skill and precision.

In Sales, you have the smooth talker, instilling trust and confidence. With optimal packaging for your target audience.

Possessing all of these attributes is Master Con Artist, Max Stone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bill Pether
• Release date: Dec 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781775191308

Bill Pether

Born and raised in Windsor, Ontario, Canada. Bill Pether spends his creative time pursuing writing, painting and music. He is a sports fanatic and a die-hard Toronto Maple Leaf's fan. Following his imagination and ridding himself of procrastination, he is now the creator and author of the Max Stone Series. www.maxstonebooks.com

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

It’s fight or flight, and right now, I’m in full flight. My stride is slowed by the powder-like sand that allows my feet too much depth with each footfall, keeping me in the line of sight for far too long, allowing the bullets to fly by a little too close for comfort. Why are there bullets whizzing by my head? Because I’m a criminal, well, sort of.

I’ve known terrible people that have changed their ways in order to accomplish great things. On the other hand, I’ve known good people that have done terrible things to others when pushed with the proper motivation. I like to think I land somewhere in the middle of it all.

Through the years, I’ve never ceased to get myself in some strange or unforeseen predicaments. I’d like to think, through it all, I’ve done some good things for people. Undoubtedly, I’ve done some terrible ones to others. But, in that time that anyone else would be analyzing themselves inwardly, I do not. I have no reason to. I have no desire to.

More often than not, I do things with the most well-meaning of intentions. Playing the Robin Hood of the twenty-first century. Stealing from those that steal from those below them. Okay, so not everything I take goes right back to the victims. But it’s not like I’m stealing from someone that doesn’t have it coming.

Sometimes, those ‘someone’s’ don’t take too kindly to me on that front. Hence, the current predicament. Running down the beach, with a half dozen able-bodied men staring at me down the sites of their AR-15’s. I can feel the ripple in the air as each bullet just barely misses my head. I’ll get away, I know it, I have confidence in that fact. I always get away.

Then I feel the burn. It’s like a shock to my whole body, sending a tingling sensation over every inch of flesh. The burn quickly fades. I’m not sure why, it doesn’t even really hurt at this point. Maybe the adrenaline? I notice that the angle of the sand before me is beginning to shift. I’m halfway down when I realize it’s me falling. I don’t even have time to get my hands out to slow down the fall. I close my eyes, waiting for the impact that feels like it takes hours to arrive. The granules scratch against my skin as I slide another couple feet, my face leading the way. The pain begins at my face, then spreads everywhere else. A pain I can say I’ve never felt in my life. I’d have screamed if I could. Instead, my mouth won’t open. I lift my head, scanning both beach and tide, but my sight is out of focus, dimming into darkness.

As I go blind, I hear a few more shots ringing out. They sound so far away. My face falls back into the sand, this time it doesn’t hurt. Everything feels okay now. The pain has vanished, and so has the sound of gunshots.

5 WEEKS EARLIER

We’re three blocks out, and I’m slipping further into character. To me, it’s like putting on a new suit; it may feel a little awkward at first, until you get the first compliment. After that, it’s all smooth sailing. With as many times as I have done the Bait and Hook, I no longer get nervous. It is more of an exhilaration factor now. A rush. An extra decibel of bass to my pulse. This is what I live for. This is who I am. Max Stone, taker of the rich, giver to the deprived. Robin Hood to the marginalized.

Mike’s voice is destroying a classic song that plays too loud on the radio. Mike is my weapon of choice. He’s a former U.S. Army Ranger. After he took his leave from the military, he became an outdoor survival instructor. The guy is a walking arsenal. The tank to my Rambo. The...well, he is a damn beast, let’s leave it at that. Whether with his fists or guns, he is tactical, careful, but never tense or hesitant. Unfortunately, his greatest weakness is singing loudly to music I love. He is obviously tone deaf, and his voice so deep it reminds me of an off-key Barry White trying to sing Nirvana.

Hey Mike, who sings this? I holler from the back of the limo.

Led Zeppelin, boss! he yells back.

Then let them sing it.

Mike starts laughing his deep, hearty laugh, That’s a good one, boss. He always calls me boss. Not just on a job, even when we are just having a casual conversation. At first, it felt a little too formal for me, and then I witnessed how he talks to others. Or more notably, how he didn’t. I learned that this was his way of showing his respect and loyalty. It wasn’t quite so awkward after that.

Don’t forget to open the door for me this time.

I won’t, boss.

The car begins to slow down smoothly, signaling the obvious. We have arrived. Showtime, boss, Mike chimes as we reach the curb.

I take a deep breath, and as I close my eyes, I can see the whole stage: the tuxedoes and elegant dresses, the fake laughs and smiles, the clammy handshakes. But I push it away as I see our ‘Mark’. My lines appear before me, moving upwards like a teleprompter, showing me the next line, way before I even need it. I speak it all, fast-forwarding through the opposition lines. I just needed mine; I knew what his would be. I always knew.

The car comes to a stop, and Mike exits. I carefully run my hands over my short hair, making sure everything is in place. The door opens, and I step out with the composure and confidence of the rock star that I am. Glancing around, the world slips into slow motion. My tuxedo matches every other in view; I can feel the restrained glances and the tension of big money all crammed into one place. The ones nearby want to know who I am, but pretend that they know me once I approach. The others in the crowd: the photographers, journalists, bloggers, and onlookers who have gathered at the entrance, they silently wish that they were me. And I shrug it all off, tune it out, because dammit, I’m a professional. The world returns to normal speed.

I look over the lavish building, built of pale brick, with hand carved, marble and stone designs. The large, double-paned windows reflected the lights of the building around us. Walking down the carpet that has been rolled out, leading to the entrance, I allow my gaze to crossover velvet ropes that keep the crowd from stepping into the walkway of the money players. Bright lights shine from the overhang above the walkway. I can feel the heat radiating from the glass encasements, pushing warmth against my head and shoulders.

A dozen international charities host this event annually, and ours was fit to blend flawlessly. Necessary paperwork, false records of prior donations, even a main office located right here in New York City. It causes me to grin, one of those grins that looks like the face of a teenager anticipating their first lustful touch in a moment of intimacy. Yeah, this feels that damn good. I gain admittance into the ballroom after flashing an ornately embossed invitation to a large man in a cheap tuxedo. The burly man nodded in approval before signaling me to move on inside. It doesn’t take long before I spot our leading lady. She is draped in a black evening dress that sparkles as it shifts under the lights. It clings to her athletic figure tightly. Strawberry blonde hair rests atop her shoulders; she looks stunning as she walks arm in arm with our Mark.

I begin to approach them, and as I get closer, it is like she senses that I am in her presence. Her head turns towards me, as hazel eyes lock onto mine, her soft smile widens ever so slightly. For her first big part in a con, Jamie has molded into her character with ease, playing the part of Jessica tonight, our charity organizer.

Jamie Paige is a kindred spirit of sorts. Having only joined our little band of merry men a year and a half ago, and brought on mostly because of how much she reminds me of myself. She likes to come in and take charge; her natural abilities smoothly transition from elegant to seductive, savvy financials to small talk. She is still learning, but sometimes it is like she’d been doing this longer than I had. She is the lure on our hook when reeling in our catch. We’d bonded quickly when we met clashing on the same con. Her fiancé, Robert, is a good guy as well, although he doesn’t get involved with our cons. He tends to lean more towards small, quick cons on his own or with Jamie. She is much more ambitious than he is though. I’m still not sure if she just loves the challenge of the long con, or if the better payoff is just too much to resist. Either way, I am glad she has joined us. She has helped make us a lot of money so far, and I really prefer having a regular, rather than hire a freelancer to be our sex appeal when we need it.

She tugs the owner of Stallworth Financial Investments and Specialty Banking towards me. As they close in on me, I smile cheesily and act completely surprised to see Jamie.

Oh my, I had no idea you’d be here, Jessica.

The tone in my voice is perfect, a slight octave higher than normal. Just enough to show the sight of her had an effect on me. Someone I respect, and enjoy being around. We need him to see that she is someone who has dealings with extremely satisfied clients. Considering she hasn’t actually dealt with any of these people before, I am her vetting tonight.

Mr. Voss! It’s good to see you again. Hopefully, you are here to make another generous donation to our foundation, she says as she gives me a polite hug. She shows a slight excitement, indicating that I am a client she is pleased to deal with, and thus, giving me the needed validity with our ‘mark’.

I break away, catching the fleeting scent of her perfume, resting my hands upon soft skin, and firm, muscular shoulders. She is definitely not a woman I’d care to piss off. Her right hook is probably just as good as Mike’s.

Of course! How could I ever say no to you? I laugh. She laughs. We all laugh. Why? Because we’re good at what we do.

This is my soon-to-be newest donor, Mr. Joseph Perkins.

Wow, the owner of the financial firm? I ask as I take his hand to shake.

The one and only. What is it you do, Mr. Voss? He smiles politely while looking me dead in the eye, trying to show a little of his own confidence and strength.

Have fun and donate to charities with the cutest project directors. I look at Jamie, and she laughs with mock embarrassment. I joke, old oil money runs through my family. I make investments full time basically. I’m told I have a good eye for solid ideas. Not to sound cocky, but I can’t argue. Tripled the family’s net worth in six years. So, I got to be doing something right. Had to add in the last little bit, he needs to know I am just as cocky as he is.

Impressive, sounds like you’re doing fine for yourself.

Thank you. But you, creating a mammoth of a company in such a short period of time. I mean, that is not some easy feat here in the NYC. Quite impressive. Let alone taking the top ranks for banking and mortgage across the country.

He feigns humility, prick. Oh, no, no, just lucky I guess. He’s a liar and a thief. He has enabled crooks and thieves to launder money through his company. He himself takes his cut of the blood money. I know the truth, and he’s got his coming.

Alright, well, I am going to get a drink, boys, says Jessica. I should probably mingle around anyways; you two come find me when you have your cheque books and a pen ready to fire. She laughs, as she gently runs her fingers over Joseph’s shoulder. How awful it must be to touch something so vile and be forced to smile about it.

Simon had done his homework well. Preparing me for this queued moment with an abundance of information on our CEO’s penchant for illegal hunting in Africa. Simon, my heterosexual life partner, as he would say. A geeky fellow that made love to a computer in porn star fashion. If there was any digital information in the world about you, he could and would get it. There was no hiding from him. He was my oldest friend and original partner to my cons. Long before Mike and Jamie came into the picture, it was just he and I, slugging our way through the world.

From the profile Simon had given to me, and our brief introduction, I have a pretty accurate read on him already. Or so it feels to me. He’d tell me what I want, but I have to carve a path there. So, I start with travel.

Man, really is nice to be back stateside. It gets old traveling all the time.

Where were you? he asked, not really caring, just being polite until he found someone more interesting to chat with.

France. Then before that, South Africa.

A twitch in his brow. South Africa? For business? Or pleasure?

Mostly pleasure with a few projects of the leisurely type. I keep it brief, drawing in the curiosity.

I like it down there. A few times a year, I try to get down that way. I have a few investments down there. Still trying to get all my ducks in a row, but things are coming along slowly but surely.

What kind of investments are we talking about? Joseph asked, his voice lowering slightly.

Just a few things going on.

You hunt? he asks.

Some... yes.

No, he begins to whisper, Do you hunt? Like, really hunt? And there we go.

I reply, Yes, why are you whispering? Bait.

I hunt big game. Real big game, he says with a wink.

Really? Me too. I love to hunt. He’d walked himself right where I wanted him to. And so, it begins, the charm. In my book, it means getting a person to agree to what I want them to do without ever directly asking them to do it.

Our conversation goes from recent hunts to our preferred rifles, to favorite camps and regions that we’d hunted at. Then I let it slip, I go on four or five trips a year. Best part, it’s all a write-off.

What? How?

Jessica. She’s my connection. I donate to her charity regularly, when I go to Africa on my hunting trips, she adds that cost to my charitable donations, I wrote off four trips last year.

Wow. That easy?

Yeah. I mean, there’s a whole process to it. But it’s mostly just donations at the right times.

Seems like a pretty good deal. How much? Hook.

That’s something you have to talk to her about. Bring it up to her. She’s always willing to work out a deal, careful though; she’s a shark when it comes to negotiating. I nudge him, winking like I’d made some grand joke. He laughs politely, but that was a telling sign. He doesn’t want to offend me. He wants me to like him. Talk to her before you go. She’ll make it worth your while. I have to head off and grease some more hands. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other before the night is over. Been great meeting you, Joseph.

You too, Mr. Voss. Dominance. Refers to me by last name, as I continually refer to him by his first.

You know, why don’t you take one of my cards. I’m actually leaving tomorrow for a hunting trip. I’ll be gone for two weeks. When you get things set up with Jessica, I can give you a heads up on the best sites I’ve found up there. I should be back when you guys get things wrapped up.

Sure thing. Actually, why don’t I get a hold of you before I finalize things with her? Just to make sure I’m not getting a bad deal. You know how things go sometimes. Pretty faces can be too alluring to say no to. He takes the card from me and hands me one of his.

No problem. Look forward to hearing from you soon, Joseph. With that, I walk away. Now I just have to mingle a little longer, then be on my way. Jamie would weasel out the first donation from Joseph before she left tonight. Twenty large. Then we are all set to rendezvous at Simon’s after. It will be a late night. But the hardest part is complete. After this, we just have to follow the script. Reeling them in is the tough end of things. Two weeks from now, we should be wrapping up this con with Joseph. After we would be taking a good chunk of what he once had money-wise. Then, we move on to the next. That’s what we do. That’s how we live. That’s how we con.

Sitting at Simon’s, I have a glass of scotch while Simon sits at his computer typing away. Mike sits on the couch with a beer, playing with his phone. Robert paces uncomfortably through the kitchen, just like he always does if Jamie is flying solo out in the field. He is a worrier; he couldn’t help it. Us telling him not to wouldn’t help.

Where is she? It shouldn’t be taking this long, he mumbles, not really asking anyone in particular.

Try not to worry, Robert. She has to stay a while to make a convincing case with others. She’s going to be fine, I tell him. But I’m not even sure he hears me. He just continues the pacing.

We hear a car pull up and we all get quiet and stare at the door. The sound of high heels racing down the sidewalk are heard, then Jamie barges in, with a big smile on her face. Got it, boys! she says as she waves a check around by her smiling face.

Fantastic! I stand up to clap; she has completed the first stage as a major player in a con.

But as I stand, she jumps into my arms, hugging me, Thank you, thank you, thank you, Max. She backs away, That was sooo.... good. I’m just so pumped right now.

Looking over, I spot Robert, from the kitchen entrance, glaring at me. Jealous much? I clear my throat, Attention everyone, gather round. Jamie has been with us for awhile now and she is more than just a fill in. She is apart of us, our team, our family. I present this to you. I hold up a small light blue polished stone dangling from a gold chain. Carved in the stone was a feather with a circle around it.

I would be honored to be apart of your family. Jamie says as she looks at Mike and Simon sporting the same stone around their necks. Max can you help me put it on?

My pleasure, I respond. After I put it on she swings around and gives me another hug. Robert’s eyes are filled with rage now, so I give Jamie a little extra squeeze before I let her go. Alright, Simon, you wanna get this in and get it divvied up for everyone?

Sure thing. Congrats, Jamie. You did good.

Thanks, Simon.

"Alright guys,