This phrase comes from the exploits of the famous conman George C. Parker, whose specialty was "selling" public lands to naive foreigners in New York City around the turn of the 20th century. He also fraudulently sold such notable landmarks as the Statue of Liberty, Madison Square Garden, Grant's Tomb and the Met.
He had many elaborate schemes to accompany his swindles, including setting up a phoney real estate office, assuming a number of fake names and forging documents. To sell the tomb of Ulysses S Grant, he pretended to be the man's grandson, fallen on hard times. Often he would convince an unwary immigrant or tourist that he was with the local government, and that the upkeep of the Statue of Liberty was too expensive for the city to maintain. The city would sell it for next to nothing, and the new owner could reap the profits to be had without government bureaucracy in the way.
Victims of the Brooklyn Bridge scam were promised they could begin collecting tolls as soon as the sale was finalized, and the police had to run off several victims who were building toll booths. Parker also managed to sell several plays pf which he obviously didn't have any rights to. After an arrest in 1908, he managed to escape custody by putting on the coat and hat of a sheriff and walking out of the courthouse where he was awaiting a hearing. He was caught again and spent the final 8 years of his life in SIng SIng Prison, where his colorful stories and exploits made him popular with inmates and guards alike.