Bookies, Show Parlays, and Shifting Odds: The Legacy of the Linden Tree Caper
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The man in the gabardine suit didn’t look like he belonged at the racetrack. Not because he was too dignified for such a place. Quite the opposite. The tellers and the horseplayers at Pimlico had the man pegged as an impostor right away. He carried a Daily Racing Form, but he didn’t mark it up with speed figures, merely scratched out the scratches. Most telling, however, was that he didn’t look like someone from the city. From a farm, perhaps. A cracked and hard look about his face. People at the track said he looked like someone who might want to borrow some money.