Step into a dangerous world of cunning and survival with BAKER, LIAR, CON MAN, THIEF: Escaping the Law One Identity at a Time by D.J. Adler.
Reminiscent of the hit film Catch Me If You Can, this gripping true story unveils the life of David Adler, a teenager in South Florida in the late 1970s when he embarks on an audacious journey of deception.
It all starts when Adler secures a bank loan to buy a booming local bakery. With no funds to his name, Adler unlocks his talent for forgery and the art of the scam. Alongside his mother and Italian tough-guy stepfather, he navigates a perilous path of crime, crafting false identities to dupe banks, casinos, and even the World’s Fair, accumulating vast sums and dodging law enforcement.
Enter Dianne Symmons, a witty, sarcastic FBI agent obsessed with their capture. After she solves an unrelated airline hijacking case, she is assigned to find the trio and make a case against them. Much easier said than done since each uses hundreds of names and disposes of identities like tissue.
This thrilling narrative is perfect for those who enjoy crime memoirs. It explores the thrilling and perilous life of con artists at work and delves into the complexities of familial bonds, the pursuit of freedom, and the consequences of a life lived on the run.
BAKER, LIAR, CON MAN, THIEF is a masterclass in the psychology of deception that takes the reader on a roller-coaster journey through the underbelly of 1970s America.
FROM THE BOOK
David spreads his legs. Only the tighty whities cover his private appendages. David estimates that Daryl wears a size twelve cowboy boot because Daryl puts that boot between David’s legs mere inches from David’s groin. David quickly closes his legs around the boot.
“Did I tell you to close your legs? Open them … now!”
David opens his legs and the point of Daryl’s boot wedges into David’s scrotum between David’s penis and his testicles trapping David’s testicles between the toe of his boot and the seat of the metal chair. Daryl slowly presses down his toes. David calls for help. Nothing. Daryl presses harder. Nobody comes in.
David thinks of Sunny. Keep this going as long as you can to make sure she’s gone. He grits his teeth with the pain. Somewhere David remembers a doctor telling him, after getting hit in the balls, that testicles are very resilient. He hopes that’s true because this is like getting kicked in the balls in slow motion. And the pain comes and goes at this owlish cop’s discretion as he alternately squishes down and eases the pressure. David’s helplessness is as bad as the pain.
Daryl puts his face inches from David’s. David can practically taste his bad breath and nicotine-stained teeth. “Look, moron, why are you making this so hard on yourself? Open the case and sign the paper. Then I’ll put you back in your nice comfy cell.”
“I want a lawyer. I want a phone call.”
“We all want shit, don’t we? Oh well, I tried.”
Daryl goes to his desk drawer and takes out a cigar. He cuts it with what appears to be a cigar guillotine. The end of the cigar snaps off neatly. He opens and closes the blade a couple of times holding it in front of David’s face. Then Daryl grabs David’s left pinky and puts the pinky into the cigar cutter. David feels the sharp metal touch his skin and wonders about two things. One, how bad will it hurt getting his finger cut off, and two, will he ever get laid again with a deformed hand? “How about I just open the case?”
Daryl pulls the cigar cutter away from David’s pinky and puts it away. He lights the cigar, savoring the flavor, and blows clouds of smoke in David’s face. Then he draws deeply on the cigar and holds David’s right arm in place. David jerks helplessly against the cuffs and Daryl’s grip as the cigar slowly gets closer to his skin. Daryl raises his eyebrows in delight as he burns about three inches of flesh on the inside of David’s forearm near the elbow.
“You really want to negotiate?” The palm of Daryl’s big hand grabs David by the forehead. His index finger on the same hand pulls David’s eyelid back. He holds the cigar precariously over David’s open eye like a flaming dagger.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David (DJ) Adler is a recovering attorney who now consults to several individuals and small businesses. He is a former social parody columnist who has won awards for his insightful essays.
In BAKER, LIAR, CON MAN, THIEF, Adler depicts his mother’s 1970s-1980s exploits running con games on unsuspecting financial institutions.
David spends as much time as he can with his family. He resides outside Chicago and often visits California, Colorado, Las Vegas, New England, and Florida. He enjoys shopping, mentalism, movies, good food (usually burgers), and comedy clubs.