PROVIDENCE –– The man accused of spinning tales that lured dozens of people into giving him money was the only one who remained silent during his two-week trial.

Yesterday, the case against John Kluth Jr., the 48-year-old Newport man whose false stories of a broken-down truck full of lobsters convinced dozens of people to give him thousands of dollars, concluded with closing arguments in Superior Court. His fate and 31 counts of obtaining money under false pretenses now rests in the hands of the jury.

Kluth told Judge Nettie Vogel yesterday morning that he’d decided not to testify. The defense called no witnesses.

The prosecution called more than 40 witnesses –– 31 of whom were people who claimed that Kluth had swindled them out of money with a story about a broken-down truck and a promise to repay them.

The stocky man with close-cropped hair grinned at times and watched the jury as it listened to final witnesses this week, including Providence police Lt. Daniel Gannon, who pieced together the majority of the cases. Gannon testified Tuesday that after the first complaint in January 2006, more than a dozen others followed, all reporting the same so-called lobsterman with a story about a truck, all immediately picking out Kluth’s face from a photo array as the man who owed them money.

“I thought, who am I to think I can’t be conned,” William McKiernan, 86, of North Kingstown testified on Tuesday, echoing the sentiments of 30 other alleged victims. “He did a good job.”

Different people, all with the same story, of a man who approached them, claimed to know them from somewhere or from somebody else, and then said he needed their help.

Kluth came up to them outside the Rochambeau Library, outside One Citizens Plaza in Providence, outside a courthouse in downtown Providence, at St. Francis Chapel in Providence, even while betting on the slot machines at Foxwoods and Twin River. He was an earnest man with a winning smile, who seemed to know them. He said he was a neighbor from down the street, a relative of a friend, a friend of a friend, just a nice fisherman in a terrible bind.

He’d chat for a few minutes and then launch into his problem –– he had a truck full of lobsters that needed to be delivered to the market, but the truck was broken down and he was desperate. The truck was always somewhere else — at a garage, at a towing company yard, out on the highway in another state. Kluth was so convincing, apparently, that even the people he met in the casinos didn’t question why he was hitting the slot machines and not out with his truck.

Defense lawyer Mark L. Smith leaned on a podium facing the jury, and in his closing remarks urged them to consider each of the 31 cases separately. “The fact that they stacked this [trial] up with 31 people has no bearing in you being fair,” he said.

He raised questions about whether the complainants could identify the man who’d taken their money. He compared the photo array that the police put together for witnesses as a “shell game.” Was it really possible that every person who reported they’d been had would pick Kluth’s face out of the photo pack every time?

Some complainants had refused Kluth’s request and then changed their minds. So, was the money a gift? Smith asked.

He chuckled at times as he went over each one of the cases. The alleged victims include lawyers, the state jury commissioner, a well-known philanthropist, a retired Superior Court judge, officials in the attorney general’s office, a retired Marine Corps colonel, an accountant, businessmen and retirees.

The elderly man who couldn’t see very well, and others who spent a few minutes before handing over money –– how could they identify Kluth? The accountant who handed off money and the man at Foxwoods who believed Kluth was a son of a friend and gave him money and a ride back to the casino –– what were they thinking?

The prosecutor said they thought they were helping a neighbor. They didn’t realize, he said, they were being conned.

“Know what this case is about?” Assistant Attorney General Stephen Regine asked the jury, beginning his closing statement. “This case is about what’s good in this state –– people in our state want to help others. Thirty-one people encountered who wanted to help others.”

“Good citizens in our state … who came up against this man,” Regine said, striding over to Kluth at a table in the courtroom and pointing at his face. “A con man. A confidence man. Flim-flam.”

Kluth promised to repay the money and named the day and time, Regine said. The people believed him and waited. One tracked Kluth down at the casino and accosted him for the money –– he got $50 and Kluth’s promise that his mother was on her way with the rest of the cash. She never arrived, and Kluth disappeared. “No way, no shape, no form did the evidence suggest these were gifts,” Regine said.

Kluth played on people’s compassion, Regine said. Like Kluth, each one of the complainants also had the same story: why they gave the money. Regine read back portions of their testimony to the jury:

“If he’s a neighbor, I should be helping him out.” “I felt sorry for him. I just wanted to help him.” “I didn’t want to let a neighbor down.”

amilkovi@projo.com