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J. E. O'Donnell.
1,816 words
"Overcoat Bennie."
"Overcoat Bennie" was one of the slickest "fences"
that ever operated in this country. Bennie was a man of easy
grace and fluent tongue as well as a profound optimst. Nothing
daunted him. Obstacles made no impression upon him, and so
he conquered them.
He came to America from Poland forty odd years ago
with high hopes of getting rich as a jewelsmith and lapidary,
a profession at which he had worked in all the important jewel
marts of Europe. After a brief career around New York and Boston
he burned cheater and finally wound up in a western city as
a "fence."
What a cheater he wasi He cheated everybody with
whom he came in contact, pawnbrokers, crooks and clients.
"Flim-flam others or they will flim-flam you," was his motto.
"I do not expect to die in this country," he used to
say, "someday I will go back to Poland and buy an estate and live
like a nobleman."
He had a system all his own. Crooks couldn't walk
in on him unceremoniously and dicker a bundle of loot as they did
with other "fences." Indeed not. The boys had to telephone for
appointments. Bennie transacted all his business on the streets,
on a ferry -boat, in an automobile or in the middle of a lot.
No detective ever got an earfull of Bennie's conversations
with his clients.
On that first "meet" he inspected the swag and set
a price and arranged a second "meet." There was always a
second "meet," because Bennie never bought anything until he
had first found a customer for the loot. When the dicker
with the crook had been consumated he made a quick tarn over
and thereby avoided the possibility of being arrested with
stolen property in his possession. And very often he didn't
even handle the loot. He would have the crook connect with
the customer. He was always figuring on eventualities, "Out-
guessing the cops", he called it. He thought our American cops
were saps.
Like many American "fences," Bennie frequently planned
robberies for the boys. He knew who was who in the city and
he knew what they owned in the line of jewels. There was a
rumor abroad that he had an inside track with several crooked
insurance company dicks.
For ten long years "Overcoat" enjoyed a phenomenal
run of good fortune while other "fences" were falling into the
hands of the law and beating trails to the gates of San Quentin
Prison. He attributed his good fortune to his system, playing
safe and "outguessing the cops."
He was forever boasting of his triumphs. One night
he decided, sitting in the Poodle Dog Cafe, that he was about
ready to gull up stakes and go back to Poland and buy that
estate. He had one more "big job" up his sleeve and then he
was through with America. It was to b e his "coup de maitre."
Wherever crooks congregate today there you will hear
the story of "Overcoat Bennie's coup de maitre." It was one of
the cleverest pieces of double dealing and double crossing that
was ever pulled off in the American underworld and Bennie --well,
here axe the details of the Polish fancy thinker's "coup de
maitre."
It begins with St. Louis Jimmy's arrival in the city
with a $25,000 necklace which consisted of twenty seven emeralds
and twenty six marquise diamonds set in platinum. James had
stolen the "slang" from a bedroom wall safe of a New York
banker's home. As all the stones were registered the fences
of the East refused to do business with Jimmy. Bennie was wise
to this fact therefore he proceeded to film -Clam the prowler.
A thousand dollars was his top price, he told Jimmy.
He could take it or leave it. The emeralds weren't so hot,
"Overcoat" pointed out. Nor were the diamonds. Jimmy pocketed
the money and departed with an oath on his lips. He knew that
Bennie had flim-flammed him but he
A thousand dollars was better than
in danger while he had the "slang"
Immediately a great idea
couldn't do anything about it.
nothing. Moreover, he was
in his possession.
was born in Bennie's twisted
brain. He believed that he could "doctor" the necklace, give
it a pedigree and peddle it for a least $35,000.
First he recut the emeralds, changing them from
hexagonal to octagonal. But he couldn't grind out those
"feathers", the finger -prints of stones, by which they are
registered and identified. Every stone, ruby, diamond and
emerald is marked with certain streaks. The same streaks
are seldom, if ever, found in two stones. This is why jewelers
call them fingerprints. But Bennie didn't stop there. He
substituted pearls for the marquise diamonds and then, when
he conceived the idea of giving the necklace a pedigree, he
substituted gold settings for the platinum. He realized
that he couldn't tell an intelligent prospect that a necklace
with platinum settings had once adorned the royal neck of the
Empress Alexandra of Russia, consort of Nicholas the First,
because platinumwas not used in those distant days. Bennie was
a great fellow for details. He was always anticipating
eventualities, always figuring on "outguessing the cops."
In due course he found a juicy prospect, "Spud"
Gilhooley a heads -I -win -and -tails -you -lose gambler who had
dealt many a hand from the bottom of a stacked deck to credulous
suckers. "Spud" was the boss of the Barbary Coast red light
district, too.
An Empress's necklace! "Spud" went for that one
hook, line, and sinker. And only thirty five gran. Well!
Well! Some bargain, he thought. It would look swell, around
his sweetheart's neck. "Little Sadie", a Barbary Coast hustler.
Sadie would love it, he thought. And so he bought the necklace
when Bennie assured him that there was no chance of a boomerang.
How could there be a boomerang, Bennie said, when he, himself,
had smuggled it into the U. S. A. from Russia?
Sadie became the talk of the underworld. "Spud" was
some "daddy." her envious friends said. They wished that they
had daddies like him. Not every fancy thinking daddy of Subterranea
could afford to decorate his moll's neck with a thirty five gran
"slang."
Well, St. Louis Jimmy heard about "Spud's" generosity
and decided to look into the matter and one night he "copped
a sneak" into Sadie's apartment and lassoed the necklace while
she slept. Immediately hell broke loose throughout the underworld.
"Spud" hit the war path, gun in hand swearing vengeance. His
first stop was Bennie's flat.
"Listen," he put his gun against Bennie's stomach,
"I got a hunch that that slang will come back to you. You're
the only fence in town that could handle a deal like it. If it
comes back to you and you don't tip me off I'll kill you. Savvy?"
"Don't worry," said Bennie, "I'll tip you if it comes
back."
As "Spud" exited through one door, St. Louis Jimmy
entered through another.
"Well, rat," ammy snarled and whipped out the necklace,
"hand over thirty five gran, quick, or I'll fill you full of lead."
Bennie turned white and blinked like a horse with
the blind staggers. That estate in Poland was drifting farther
and farther away with each passing second. The gods were against
him. That this thing should happen to him just as he was getting
ready to pull up stakes! It was terrible! Presently he saw Jimmy's
hand go to his hip pocket and come out with a gleam of steel.
With chattering teeth he pleaded for a "'break." The prowler's
lips parted in a singularly venemous smile.
"A break, eh? "he hissed." Did you ever give anybody
a break? I'm givint you the contents of this gat if you don't
kick in thirty five gran, pronto."
Bennie kicked in. Jimmy grabbed the money and backed
away to the door and delivered a valedictory which sent the
blood trickling through "Overcoat's" veins like ice water.
"Crack to Gilhooley about this matter," he said, "and
I'll come back and kill you."
Benny nodded and toppled into a chair. Now, he was "in
the middle" for the first time in his life. If he squealed on
Jimmy he was jeapordizing his life and if he didn't and "Spud"'
ever got wise it would be "curtains" for him just the same. He
saw but one way out of the "jam." He'd go to work on the necklace
again, convert it into its original condition and tarn it over to
his old friend Sam Pinelli, the pawnbroker, a sharpshooter with
whom he had staged many a shady deal. Sam agreed that it was his
only "out." He had customers beyond the underworld to whom he
could sell the necklace. "Good old Sam" had never failed him.
A few hours after Bennie had delivered the necklace
to Sam he was found in an alley, his fat, well fed body riddled
with bullets. Those of the underworld who were "in the know"
on the necklace transaction put two and two together and got five.
We thought "Spud" Giihooley had killed Bennie. "Spud's" disappearance
from his Barbary Coast rendezvous strengthened the hunch. But
imagine our surprise when the police found his body in a water
front lumber yard the following day? We were as mystified as the
cops. The coroner's announcement that "Spud" had been killed
before Bennie pyramided the mystery.
But, as the boys say, it all came out in the wash when
a Chicago actress, playing a local theatre, applied to a well known
insurance company for a $25,000 policy on her diamond and
emerald necklace.
Those diamonds and emeralds looked strangely familiar
to the company's sleuths and appraisers and so they turned to
their files and waded through their "robbery and wanted" circulars
on registered jewels, circulated by the Jewelers Protective
Association. Those tell -tale "feathers," the fingerprints of
stones, gave them the answer, It was the necklace that St. Louis
Jimmy had stolen from the bedroom wall safe of the New York
banker's home. Of course the actress confessed that she had
bought it from Sam Pinelli and Sam admitted that he got it
from "Overcoat Bennie." That, however, was ALL that Sam
admitted.
He did not tell the police that after he got the
necklace he immediately telephoned St. Louis Jimmy that Bennie
had tipped off "Spud" Giihooley khd that "Spud" was gunning
for him. He waited until he heard that Jimmy had killed "Spud"
and Bennie before he tried to sell the necklace.
Sam "kicked the bucket" in San Quentin Prison. And
St. Louis Jimmy? He was shot to death in the latter part of
January 1901, while trying to dynamite his way out of the
Tennessee State Prison at Nashville with Ed Carney alias "New York
Hutch," Gus Hite, a train robber, and a number of other big shot
fancy thinkers of the underworld. A bloody tale? Yes, but what
a moral it packs! You can't beat old John Law&