The trick was picking the tired, lost ones. That was the trick. Many passengers coming into Warsaw Airport had been warned about 'unlicensed' taxis, but if you chose well they would be too confused to argue. The trick was getting their bag. Once you had that, with a "Let me carry your bag, Sir/Madam," they would have to follow you.
The trick was to walk fast enough to scare them into following you, for fear of losing their baggage in the busy arrivals lounge, but not so fast the airport police would think you were stealing something.
That was the trick. Occasionally looking round to keep the mark in sight. Once their bag was in the back of the car, you had them. They would tell you their destination. You would overcharge them by 1000% what they would have paid on the regular buses or official cabs.
That was the trick. Them having money they had converted to local currency, but not being familiar enough with the exchange rate. Only once had a mark worked it out, when being dropped off at the train for Krakov, and refused to pay the 90z I had requested.
"Take me back then," he had bluffed, "I'm not paying you more than fifteen zloty." even though he had over 200 in his hand when I did finally agree to take it; he had still overpaid, but only just. Bastard.
That was the trick. I had asked too much that day. Set off too many alarms. That mark not quite as tired or stupid as I had thought.
That was the trick. Refining the routine. So, when I had slammed the latest mark's backpack in the boot, then turned to see not him, but the pointed guns of the local police I was surprised.
That was the trick. When they had opened the bag to reveal a fortune in cocaine, I knew. That was the trick. Con a con man with his own con.
The other occupants of the cell nodded.