In Dark Corners by Gene O'Neill Read Free Book Online

brains—

    [washed]

    Okay, okay, yesterday morning. Let's see...
    We was out at the track, Golden Gate Fields, running a shuck 'n dip—

    [washed]

    Well, that's usually two dudes, one doing the shucking, you know, keeping the mark's attention, while his partner's doing the dipping, picking the mark's wallet...you unnerstand?
    Anyhow, before we left the City on the early bus, I invested in twenty copies of Earl's Picks, a tout sheet you can buy at The Cigar Stand, 'round the corner from where we live above Biltman's Billiards on Divisadero. Got all the pre-race odds, picks, 'n other track bullshit, you know. Then we took the Track Express across the Bay Bridge to the Fields, getting there before most everybody.
    Now the way we work the shuck 'n dip is I sell the tout sheet to someone in the crowd, who pulls out his wallet to pay. Then, as I keep up the shuck, Frankie lifts his wallet. Course, you unnerstand, timing is everything: hitting the right person in the crowd coming in the gate, being sure his wallet pocket is accessible—none of them suit-with-a-breast-pocket dudes.

    [washed]

    Nah, ninety-nine outta hunnerd never guess until later they been dipped.
    They say that vice never suffers during good times or bad. Well that ain't exactly true, 'cause things been thin at the track lately. Guess Golden Gate Fields is suffering right along with most working class in the Bay Area—shit too high. Usually, the parking lots would be full 'bout half an hour after we got there on the early bus, a steady crowd coming in the gate. Just a matter of picking your mark. But lately, the closest parking lot to the main gate is only a third full, and me 'n Frankie have to work the buses, 'cause they're the only groups coming through the gate—you need to work inna group, for cover, you unnerstand.
    Anyhow, it was getting close to the first race, and we'd hit only three dudes. I'd got rid of about half the Earl's Picks —doan always dip ever one, you know. Just then, two buses dumped at the same time, a good-sized crowd busting through the front gate.
    "Hey, hey," I shouted, holding up the tout sheets, "get your Earl's Picks . Eight outta ten winners, yesterday. Right here!"
    I was checking the crowd, when I spotted this dude coming right at me, and he was wearing a long duster, all gray.
    Anyway, when he got a little closer I saw he was really weird-looking

    [washed]

    Well, he had a little dude body, but a big dude head. And it was hard to tell his actual age, 'cause he had them wide-open eyes, big and bright like a little kid's, but deep crows-feet radiating from the corners. Normally, 'cause of the long coat, I wouldn't even tried to set him up for Frankie. But he stopped right in front of me, so I lay on my shuck.
    " Earl's Picks , mister?" I asked, watching Frankie get in position outta the corner of my eye. "Best bet here at Golden Gate. Picked eight winners, yesterday. Two bucks. Whatta ya say—?"
    He nodded, and that's when I noticed his strange hands, kinda delicate-like and real pale with these thin, long fingers—like a piana player's, you know.
    Anyhow, he reached into his pocket and brought out a handful of bills. I took two dollars and he shoved the rest back in his duster. Then I leaned into him, flipping the pages of Earl's Picks. "This is a great race in the fifth, mister. Be sure and check out Earl's choice, New Samurai, he's a long shot—twelve to one. Should be even better odds by post-time."
    He never said anything, just nodded, and I figured he was some kind of foreigner—didn't speak American too good. By then I saw that Frankie had made the dip, so I backed off, sending him on his way. "Thank you, sir. Tell 'em where ya got the winners." And I turned toward the last of the bus crowd, shouting, "Whose next? Earl's Picks ."
    Frankie gave me the high sign, and I couldn't help grinning. We'd done that one pretty slick. Foreigners were easy, cause they didn't suspect a scam in the good ole U.S. of A. Still, I