A Confidence Man Has Many Children

William Edward Blackstone. Edward Blackstone. Eddie Black.
Four countries and two names later, he was where he belonged. But no one was counting.
New Years Eve, 1941, 11:59 PM.
Lisbon smelled sweeter than New York. London, Rome, and Paris were far too dangerous these days. Plus, there was far more money to be made in Lisbon. The Nazis stayed away and the fugitives came, which meant that a man with no family and no identity could be a commodity. Such a man stood to make a large profit. Eddie Black was just such a man.
Fugitives paid through the nose to get on an airplane headed to the States. Nazis paid more to keep them off.
Play the cards right, and a person could collect both fees and never do a bit of work.
If his conscience pained him, no one would notice a few fugitives who slipped through the cracks.
Eddie took a long drag from a cigarette. New Years Day, 1942, 12:01 AM. He rubbed the butt out on the balcony rail and walked back into his plush apartment. The champagne would be cold by now.
A knock.

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