Hymie the Rhymer's Big Score

WC 870

Hymie the Rhymer’s Big Score

By Jack Rawlins

My name is Sam Glade, master detective and PI, which stands for private investigator or pissed individual depending on how my day is going. Today, it was going well. I was going to redeem a chit I owed Hymie the Rhymer Swartz. Hymie once saved my life when some of his friends were about to beat my brains out with baseball bats. But that’s another ball game.

Today I was going to save Hymie from going back to Sing Sing for another long visit.

While he was in the joint, Hymie the Rhymer was poet laureate of cell block 16. He hated capital punishment as much as he hated capitalization and was a life-long fan of poet e.e.cummings.

Hymie was the brains behind "the six of diamonds gang" which he organized through careful selection. He asked two simple questions: “What are you in for?” and “When will you get out? Only jewel thieves and short -timers destined for release about the same time as he were selected.

Under the guise of poetry readings, Hymie and his minions conducted job opportunity research on making a big score. Each session opened with readings of their own work that was so horrendous the guards walked out in disgust. Left alone, they were able to continue their research.

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Hymie made his fortune and rep as Long Island’s dinner-time Pink Panter. The nickname was earned when two victims reported they spotted someone in a pastel hoodie huffing and puffing as he fled the scene.

Hymie’s modus operandi was to visit homes while the family was having dinner, pick up a few things and vanish through the laurel and azaleas of their lushly landscaped estates.

He fenced his selections through a gentleman who specialized in recovering stolen goods for insurance companies. It was a good life, but physically tough for chubby Hymie.

He operated successfully for many years until one evening when he heard a homeowner dashing for the upstairs bathroom. He dove down the laundry shoot but got his fat ass jammed before he slid five feet. It was an easy arrest for the Hampton Police Dept. They just cuffed his ankles and hauled him in.

The thick walls of prison keep the guys in but their words get out. Word on the street was that"the six of diamonds gang" was planning a long trip and a monster caper that would cap all capers. Nobody knew where, what or when, but Interpol, the International cops, hired me to find out.

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By the time Hymie graduated from Sing Sing and set up corrupt headquarters in Newark, NJ "the six of diamonds" included Teeko Tocko, Fatty Bratwurst, Soupy Wanton, Dough Boy Dubinsky and Solvi Streusel. When I came to visit Hymie was busy in his office making travel arrangements and I met them all in the conference room. And a nicer bunch of guys you would never want to meet.

While we chatted I noticed piles of camping equipment from L.L. Bean and a six by eight foot wall-map of India with a red circle drawn around Golconda.

Later, when I walked into Hymie’s office he leaped to his feet: “Glade!” he said as he yanked off the towel wrapped around his head, “You freshen up a room whenever you waft in. Welcome!”

“Hymie,” I said as I checked out the staples on the desk—flour, salt, sugar and curry powder—I can tell by your toweled head, the staples on your desk, the map in your conference room with the circle around Golconda, and all the camping gear that you’re planning your biggest score of all time. We both know the statue where they found The Hope Diamond was no Cyclops. You’re going back to steal the other eye!”

“God damn, Sam,” he laughed. “You’re one smart son-of-a-bitch! But I’m going ahead with my plan. I have too much stolen money invested to back out. And I know you won’t rat on me—the guys with the bats are still around.

“Hymie,” I said, “Interpol is already watching you. The minute you make a move, any where in he world, they’ll be on your tush like a Tsunami .It’s a cliché, but you’ll never get away with it. And that’s the naked truth.”

“Sam, you don’t understand, “Hymie, sighed. “I don’t like to climb any more. I can’t hack it as a second-story man. And I’ve got a talented group of experienced guys all in the same boat. We need a big job. What should I do?”

And that’s when I redeemed my chit:" Hymie," I said, “You guys know more about stealing than all those armatures out there. You can protect people’s property because you know how to steal it. Start a security service.” That was Hymie's epiphany.

“You know what, Sam? You’re absolutely right. I’m going to devote the rest of my life to saving people’s stuff instead of stealing it. What's more, I’m going to continue my poetry readings with the guys.”

So, it was a very good day. In my own modest way, I saved the other Hope Diamond; saved Hymie and "the six of diamonds gang" from a venture with little hope of finding another Hope; launched a new business; and perpetuated the continuing education of former felons. And, I’d still get my fee from Interpol.

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