Page 4 of Catching a Con Man

“I see.” I had no reason to believe he was lying, and equally no reason to trust him. But I thought I could get a handle on when he was telling the truth. And he’d certainly seemed flustered when he realisedIwas the one he would be doing business with. “So, what was the business you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, I really don’t know if I’m better off getting an appointment with your father…”

Did this little con man think he could take advantage of my father’s generosity just because he was getting older? I could feel myself getting angry, and I grabbed my glass of wine and gulped it down to force myself to pause.

“My father is the face of the Crane family and all our holdings,” I said. “But I can put in a good word for you, or if appropriate, I could even take your business idea under my own advisement. You’ll know, of course, that I’m CEO of Electro.”

“Uh…yes, of course,” said Tyler. “Right…”

“More wine, sir?” asked the waiter, making both of us jump. “Main course will be served momentarily.”

He poured us each a glass before moving on to the rest of the table. Seconds later, the main course was put down in front of each of us. Other than for dietary requirements, my father never adjusted the main course at charity events he had any hand in. It was proper food that soaked up the wine.

“This is just a Sunday Roast!” said Tyler, looking down at the plate in front of him. It was slightly more artisan than you’d find at a country pub, but he wasn’t far off. A few different organic vegetables, a chunk of prime beef, lathered in gravy. Good food for business, my father called it. He wasn’t wrong. It was why we still sat down almost every Sunday with a good old-fashioned roast.

“Tell me your business idea, Tyler,” I said between bites.

“Well…it’s a philanthropic gesture, really,” he said, ignoring the food in front of him as he spoke. “A platform for the great and the good to transfer parts of their wealth more easily into local community projects and grassroots organisations. Stocks, direct bank transfers, all handled through a middleman.”

“And what stops me from sending my money to those organisations now?” I asked. “My family is famously philanthropic. We give hundreds of millions a year to charity.”

“Do you know how buildings like this used to be built?” Tyler asked, gesturing at the surrounding opulence. “Rich patrons giving directly back to the community they lived in, or to the people they employed, by funding buildings like this. You might give millions to, say, cancer research, or to cure epidemics in Africa. But most of the wealthy people I know aren’t motivated enough to actually seek the local community projects and small charities that they can help the most. And most of those small charities aren’t prepared to accept larger donations from wealthy patrons either. So you get a cycle of the biggest national charities getting funded by the wealthiest because it’s easier for both of them. A dedicated business to connect bigger donors to small charities could do great things. I’d require…both an investment, and a donation. I don’t think it’s possible to set up the whole thing as a non-profit. Not unless some really rich person wants it as their pet project.”

I wondered for a second if Tyler might actually be genuine. Because the idea he’d presented wasn’t half bad and solved a problem that until that moment I hadn’t really realised was a problem. But then why would he go to all this effort to hide? If he had such a genuinely good idea, then what was the point in pretending to be someone he wasn’t?

“Let me talk to my father,” I said, with no idea of what I’d say to my father when I saw him.There’s a con man trying to steal our money, but he’s given me an idea I actually like?

“…thank you,” said Tyler quietly. He wasn’t looking me in the eye. I wondered if tonight had subverted both of our expectations somehow.

“Do you have a card?” I asked him.

“Oh…” Tyler patted his pockets. “I must have forgotten it. Let me give you my number.”

He pulled out a pen and scrawled quickly on a napkin. Avery expensivesilk napkin, but then again it was only people with a lot of money who thought so frugally about how to save it. It was a weird paradox.

I pocketed the napkin with a tight smile. I was feeling all kinds of weird things about Tyler, and that wasn’t helped by the feeling that underneath it all, he wasn’t abadperson. I liked to think I was an excellent judge of character. Then again, men like him probably thrived on conning people who thought they were an excellent judge of character.

A white-gloved hand touched my shoulder gently, making me jump. “Sir, the schedule has noted you’ve a quick speech prepared before dessert.”

“Yes. Of course. Tyler, please excuse me.” I got up from the table and headed to the stage next to the band, and they quietened down as they came to the end of their song. I addressed the room at large, as was customary at Crane-sponsored events.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight,” I said, “and for your generosity in digging deep. As many of you will know, heart disorders are a cause close to my…well, it’s important to us as a family. And we appreciate every penny that goes towards the Crane Foundation’s goal to support those charities here in the UK and abroad that are committed to eradicating heart disease once and for all. Your donations truly save lives.”

There was a smattering of self-indulgent applause, and I continued with a part of the speech that I hadn’t planned. “I would ask you all, however, to look a little closer to home. I fear I’ve become neglectful of looking for those smaller causes for whom a small amount of money could do tremendous things. There are so many large charities doing fantastic worldwide work, it would be remiss of us to forget those who do so much good in our local area.” There was more applause, and it made me smile to see that some people had immediately put their heads together to murmur, hopefully to take in what I’d said. I caught Tyler’s eye and winked, and he gave me a queasy smile in return. “Now all I ask is that you enjoy dessert, and join me for a dance later on. There will be waltzes, a professional display from the Welsh Dance Studio…and of course, the macarena.”

I stepped down from the dais at the final applause and made my way back to Tyler. The caterers were an efficient lot, and had already started bringing out plates of tinyamuse-bouchedesserts for the centre of the table.

Gloria smiled at me. “I hadn’t realised that you hadn’t met young Tyler before arriving, I genuinely thought he was one of your young lads! It’s a shame I only ever read about them in the paper, you never bring anyone to these things!”

“That’s enough wine, dear,” said Derek. I could feel my ears heat. Normally I wasn’t thrown off easily, but something about Tyler… She was right, of course. I never brought anyone to these events because I didn’t doromance.Much as my mother wanted me to bring someone more permanent home and seemed to take every society report that I’d been seen on a date as a sign that wedding bells were imminent, I really was a one-date-and-done kinda guy. If buying an expensive meal for a gorgeous young man got him into my bed, then who was I to turn down the chance? Equally, who was I to trust anyone who only saw me for my money in a relationship?

“Well, perhaps we’ll all be seeing more of Tyler in the future,” I finally choked out.

“I do hope so. So charming, and handsome too!”

The band started up again, a traditional waltz, and I remembered I’d have to start the dancing. Some things hadn’t changed since the regency in British Old Money circles, and as host I’d be expected to lead. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t switch up the format a little bit.

“Tyler, may I have this dance?” I asked. Tyler blanched and started stuttering, and I realised he might never have waltzed before. He might’ve fooled anyone else in this room, and if I hadn’t been so aware of Holden Quinn’s personal life in a way that others weren’t, he might have got away with it. Despite my attempts to play with him and unbalance him, I felt sorry for him. But I still wanted the dance.

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