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Post by Monday on Jan 26, 2012 17:15:29 GMT -5
Growing up under the wing of a loan shark as notorious as George Priest, you come out with a few lessons about the world.
The most important one of the day, for Monday Corelli, was that if you hang around a racetrack long enough, you'll eventually find somebody desperate enough to do what you need them to.
Brooklyn was a new area for Monday, but Priest relied on him to look around a neighborhood ahead of time, before deciding if they could make any money there. Queens, Priest had told him, was a drained well, and they needed fresh water.
Lucky that Brooklyn was surrounded by it.
Today, in the rush of the daily races and the bustle of people looking to get rich quick or at least rich enough quick enough, Monday blended into the crowd and simply watched. He'd find what he was looking for, sooner or later.
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Post by jimmyconnelly on Jan 26, 2012 23:42:06 GMT -5
Jimmy was watching the race's, ticket squeezed in his hand. He'd bet it all on number three and number three was seriously lagging behind. "Come on!" he yelled.
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Post by Monday on Jan 27, 2012 8:30:06 GMT -5
Monday straightened as he heard Jimmy's yell over the others in the crowd. Scanning the heads of the people around him, he tried to spot him. Finally, he saw Jimmy by the rails and carefully wove his way toward him, keeping himself inconspicuous.
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Post by jimmyconnelly on Jan 27, 2012 12:43:04 GMT -5
The horse lost and Jimmy kicked at the ground ultimately defeated. He'd used all his money on that horse. "Shit."
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Post by Monday on Jan 27, 2012 18:22:17 GMT -5
"Take it you picked the wrong horse," Monday drawled easily around his cigarette. He watched the racetrack absently while the horses slowed, and the winning horse was wreathed.
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Post by jimmyconnelly on Jan 27, 2012 20:42:40 GMT -5
"yeah, I thought he was good, but..." Jimmy said with a shrug and glanced at Monday.
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Post by Monday on Jan 27, 2012 22:42:25 GMT -5
Monday folded his arms over the rails and squinted speculatively over the track. "Bet on Three?" he asked. "His jockey's too heavy."
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Post by jimmyconnelly on Jan 27, 2012 23:33:39 GMT -5
Jimmy smirked, "Yeah, but the horse has a lot of potential. He wanted it, you could see that."
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Post by Monday on Jan 28, 2012 1:26:20 GMT -5
Monday lifted a shoulder absently and tossed his cigarette down, stubbing it out with his shoe. "Horse could be perfect, but if he has a shit jockey, it won't matter." He curled the corner of his mouth up in a smirk -- this guy was talking like a real gambler, which meant he was precisely what Monday was looking for.
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Post by jimmyconnelly on Jan 28, 2012 1:47:03 GMT -5
"I think the jockey just needs to get him broken in right. I think he's good for the horse. You'll see," He said. Now he was really starting to worry why this guy was talking to him. He lit a smoke. "Well, I gotta be going..."
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Post by Monday on Jan 28, 2012 10:12:31 GMT -5
Monday turned to face him, lifting an eyebrow. "Did you blow all your money on that horse?" he asked bluntly.
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Post by jimmyconnelly on Jan 28, 2012 12:00:30 GMT -5
"most of it," Jimmy admitted and then sighed, "I got enough for my bed tonight but that's about it."
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Post by Monday on Jan 28, 2012 12:17:58 GMT -5
Monday smirked again, then reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper. With one of the betting pencils he found discarded on the ground, he scrawled a name and an address, then passed it over to Jimmy. "Here. Look up George Priest, if you need to."
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Post by jimmyconnelly on Jan 28, 2012 14:05:50 GMT -5
Jimmy eyed him skeptically. "what's this priest gonna do for me?"
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Post by Monday on Jan 28, 2012 15:16:02 GMT -5
"Money, if you want it," Monday told him as he lit another cigarette. "A job, if you'd rather have that."
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