The Art of Making Money - Jason Kersten [122]
Art did tell me how he was caught. He came home one day to find a pile of counterfeit bills drying on his kitchen table. They had been made not by him, but by his sixteen-year-old son, who had read my article in Rolling Stone. Art went ballistic, and during the ensuing fight his son grabbed a pile of bills off the table and ran out into the street—just as a Chicago PD cruiser was passing by. According to the Secret Service, his son declared to the officer that the bills were counterfeit and that his father had made them—an act that the boy will probably regret for the rest of his life.
Within half an hour, Secret Service agents were searching Art’s apartment, where they turned up both bills and equipment. Most of the bills were twenties of inferior quality that had been made by the Kid, but there were also high-quality hundreds that the Service knew could only have been made by Art himself. Ultimately, Art pleaded guilty to manufacturing over eighty-nine thousand dollars and was sentenced to eighty-seven months. He is currently incarcerated at the Federal Correctional Institute in Manchester, Kentucky, where he spends most of his time reading, writing, and keeping to himself. He and Natalie have made up, and she eagerly awaits his release, which should happen sometime in August of 2013. Manchester is too far from Dallas for Natalie to make the drive to visit, and they’re hoping he’ll soon be transferred to Texas.
By the time he is released, the next-generation hundred-dollar bill will be in circulation. It will be more technologically advanced than anything Americans have ever seen, featuring holographic images generated by “microlenses” wedded into the paper’s matrix. Counterfeiters will find it the most daunting obstacle to their profession in history. Many will try to master it and the overwhelming majority will fail. But as Art Williams says, “There is always a way.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is the story of Art Williams, his family, and many of his friends, as he told it and as I interpreted it. If Art hadn’t summoned the courage to share his secrets with me, it couldn’t have happened. It was an immensely emotional process for him, and I thank both him and Natalie for opening the door to some very difficult parts of their lives and having the courage to share it with strangers.
The man who introduced me to Art Williams and his story was Paul Pompian, who became my great friend and mentor. He did his best to transmit to me his priceless understanding of and passion for the wondrous connections, histories, characters, and miracles of his native Chicago. I’d never even been to Chicago before writing this book; if I got anything right about this magnificent city, it’s because of him.
Scott Waxman, my book agent, once told me that representing writers had been his childhood dream. As a kid, that’s gotta be even harder to explain than wanting to be a writer. All I ever wanted to do was write and find a believer like him. Scott found me, and he continues to be an inspiration.
Jim Kaminsky, my friend and editor through the years at various magazines, was the first to publish my writings about Art Williams in Rolling Stone. Jim is the most dedicated, discerning, passionate, and talented magazine editor I’ve had the privilege to work with. Both of my books have been a direct result of our partnership.
Moira Meltzer-Cohen was the first person to read this book. Her insights and encouragement helped me through the hardest part, which is finishing.
Always last, always most, I’d like to thank my family and good friends, who endured the usual litany of angst, complaints about obscure narrative and reporting stuff, unfairly long episodes of burrowing and insensitivity, and the resulting cluelessness I typically display