Long White Con: The Biggest Score Of His Life - Plot & Excerpts
. . ALMOST The southwestern sky was sugary with rock candy stars. The four of them were happy, happy. Life was delicious! White Folks felt the sleek new ’62 Eldorado under his hands cruise smoothly as a spaceship through a galaxy of neon. The four of them were Wade “Speedy” Jackson, ex-crack detective and ex-Harlem grifter whiz, his main squeeze, pixie Janie, and Folks’ beauteous black Pearl seated beside him. You’ve made it Johnny O’Brien, he told himself. You’ve made it to become a big white con roper. Me, a closet nigger expatriate from the black southside of the Big Windy has made it! A toothy attendant, in a red velvet monkey suit, scrambled to open the doors of the Eldorado. He drove it away to park. They caught a reflection of themselves, resplendent in dinner attire, mirrored in the glass doors as they stepped into the elegant maw of the supper club. The room’s diners played muted music with the Rogers’ silver as the lyrics of their animated chitchat sotto voced politely across the Damask snow of the tablecloths.
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