Thursday, July 17, 2014
Stock Market Swindles: A History of Con Artists & Capitalism in America - Crime Drama (2012)
Lou Blonger (May 13, 1849 -- April 20, 1924), born Louis Herbert Belonger, was a Wild West saloonkeeper, gambling-house owner, and mine speculator, but is best known as the kingpin of an extensive ring of confidence tricksters that operated for more than 25 years in Denver, Colorado. His "Million-Dollar Bunco Ring" was brought to justice in a famous trial in 1923.
Blonger's gang set up rooms resembling stock exchanges and betting parlors that were used by several teams to run "big cons". The goal of the con was to convince tourists to put up large sums of cash in order to secure delivery of stock profits or winning bets. The depiction of the "Wire Con" seen in the movie The Sting is a fairly accurate representation of a typical big con.
Blonger had longstanding ties to numerous Denver politicians and law enforcement officials, including the mayor and the chief of police. In 1922, however, District Attorney Philip S. Van Cise bypassed the Denver police and used his own force, funded by donations solicited in secret from local citizens, to arrest 33 con men, including Blonger, and bring the ring to justice.
During the 1920 primary election for Denver district attorney, Blonger approached Republican Party candidate Philip S. Van Cise and offered assistance in the way of campaign contributions and votes. To Blonger's surprise, Van Cise turned down his offer, and after his election, Van Cise called Blonger into his office to warn him that one of his goals would be the eradication of Blonger's gang of con men. Recognizing that the police force was in Blonger's pocket, Van Cise undertook a private investigation underwritten by donations from 31 wealthy benefactors. Over the course of a year, his detectives gathered information and watched the habits and movements of the gang members. Van Cise monitored Blonger's trash, spied on him from a building across the street, and had a Dictaphone installed surreptitiously inside his office (an action that did not require a search warrant at the time). He also allowed a crooked police detective to work inside the district attorney's office, feeding him misleading information to confuse the gang.
In the summer of 1922, Van Cise made it well known he was going on a long fishing vacation to the Rocky Mountains, signaling to the gang members that the heat was off their operation. While the con men plied their trade openly on the streets of Denver, Van Cise and his assistants plotted a huge roundup that required a willing victim to help catch the gang in the act. With incredible good fortune, J. Frank Norfleet showed up in Denver at precisely this moment. Norfleet was a Texas rancher who had previously been scammed twice by other gangs and was on a nationwide manhunt to bring the men who swindled him to justice. Entering the lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel, Norfleet was hooked by unwitting gang members who saw him as an easy mark, and the plan was set in motion.
The posse assembled early on the morning of August 24, 1922: eighteen Colorado Rangers to arrest the gang members and several private citizens to chauffeur them to a holding cell in the basement of the First Universalist Church. Blonger and Duff were among the first to be arrested; eventually 33 gang members were hauled in before news of the raid reached the street, allowing the remainder of the gang to flee.
Although newspapers across the country carried the particulars of the unusual sting, the Denver Post at first declined to print Blonger's name. Co-publisher Harry Tammen was a close friend of Blonger's, but his partner Fred Bonfils ordered the paper's editors to end the embargo and support Van Cise and the prosecution of the "Million-Dollar Bunco Ring". The nickname the papers hung on the gang didn't tell half the story. The con men's total haul was impossible to determine, but in any case was well in excess of a million dollars per year.
Blonger had a host of legal talent at his disposal, not to mention a sympathetic judge or two. His personal lawyer, Thomas Ward, Jr., was a former U.S. district attorney who had argued cases before the U.S. Supreme Court. While the rest of the gang was represented by lesser names, they all benefited from the roadblocks laid down by the lead lawyers in the conspiracy case. The defense successfully fought to have Van Cise removed from the prosecution of the case on a technicality, but Van Cise considered this a tactical error, since it allowed him to spend more time devising the prosecution's strategy and less time in court. The case proceeded with two special prosecutors, S. Harrison White, former chief justice of the Colorado Supreme Court, and Harry C. Riddle, a former district court judge.
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