 |
| The author John Worby on his wedding day. |
This is the second installment of John Worby's "British Gangsters" article in The Weekly Dispatch published in 1939.
West End.
In Frith Street, Soho, I met Gladys, a girl I had known in Manchester. "Hullo Bert," she said, using the name she had known me by, "Since I last saw you I've learned a lot, and I've not forgotten what you said that night in Corporation Street, remember?"
"No," I replied "I meet so many people in my travels, I can't remember what I said to all of them."
"Well," she said, "I remember all too well. And if you hadn't stopped me I'd still be on the streets, Anyway, you don't look so bad."
I thought she might be in on something so I said "I've got about two shillings to see me through into another racket."
"Alright, but I'm not on my own, but if you want I can give you a good tip, be here at six o'clock tonight." With that she gave me a slip of paper with an address on it. I had a lot of time to kill so I walked around town wondering what sort of racket she was into. At six o'clock I was outside the address Gladys had given me, a nice little place in Shaftesbury Avenue.
I knocked and a head popped out of a window and a key was thrown down. I opened the door and there was a girl I'd never seen before asking me in.
Luxury Flat.
As the door closed behind me Gladys came in and greeted me. Talking to her friend - her name was Dippy, and she came from Newcastle - she said "This is the bloke I was telling you about, he once did me a good turn." She sat down in a nice easy chair, taking a cigarette she offered one, before I had lighted it, Dippy said "I'm off now, Glad, see you in the morning."
Gladys went to get a drink ready, and I took a look round. I saw real luxury for the first time in quite a while. "Swell joint you got here, Glad." "You ain't seen nothing yet." she said, "Here, have a drink, and I'll show you round."
Holding up my glass of whisky I said "Well, here's health girl." I drained my glass in two gulps, I shuddered, pulled a face, and felt the tingling warmth.
"What's up, Bert, don't you like whisky?" "Yes, but not as strong as that. I drink for effect, not for the taste."
"You'll get some effect all right, but only if you stop here long."
"Is that an invitation?"
"Sure," she said, "What do you think I've asked you here for?" First we went to her bedroom. It was beautifully furnished with two walnut twin beds. The wardrobe and the dressing table were also of walnut. The carpet was a thick pile. There was a telephone between the beds. The whole colour scheme was of ivory and gold.
We then went into the bathroom, where everything was also ivory and gold, with the walls of green tiles and mirrors hanging on them. The dining room was laid out in the same lavish fashion. The walls in every room were panelled with mirrors, so that the light was reflected from every corner. I learnt later that the whole place had cost Gladys £800 to do up this way.
My Advice.
"You've got me beat," I said.
"You'll soon see that you were the first to put this idea into my head."
We sat down in the room I had first come into, and Gladys told me how she had got on since that night in Manchester. When I had seen her then she had run away from home owing to some trouble, and was down and out. She tapped me for a cigarette. I could tell from her manner that she was fresh from home.
I only had a few bob on me, but I gave her what I could. And I advised her to "cheat" any men who were ready to take advantage of her lack of money. On coming to London she had met Dippy in Hyde Park, and after a few days they had decided to work together.
"Perhaps you think I've got this on tick, Bert, or I'm an old man's darling. If you do you'll soon see. You can stop here for as long as you like, but don't get me wrong."
"Glad, thanks for the break. I won't let you down."
That night Gladys and I drank a good deal of whisky and talked of her exploits, although well lit, she still looked composed and confident. As I looked across the room I saw a slight slim girl of about 23, with blond hair and blue eyes in a pale oval face. He eyes were sparkling with the effects of the drink, and she showed perfect white teeth between very red lips. I valued the jewellery she was wearing at about £300.
Boy Friend.
Just then the telephone bell rang. After answering it, Gladys came back and said, "It was only a friend who wanted me to go out with him tonight. He's got plenty of dough, but I keep him hoping; it does him good."
By this time it was getting late, so I took the opportunity of having a bath, and then went to bed. I lay down on a bed fit for a king, and wondered to myself how everything would turn out. I still intended to get a job, but first of all I wanted to see a bit of this racket.
While I was lying there thinking, Gladys came into the room, pulled a screen round her bed and went behind it. In a few minutes she pushed it back and stood there in a pair of silk pyjamas. She pattered about the room for a bit and then got into her bed.
When I awoke it was just getting daylight. I lay wondering what to do next, Gladys woke up at about ten o'clock. After breakfast she gave me ten bob to buy food for the day. With that I left, telling her I'd be back at the flat at six o'clock.
"Snide" Work.
I knew a spiv in Compton Street, and I made my first call there. We talked for some time, and then he asked me if I wanted to make a bit of easy dough. "Sure, I'm game for anything," I replied.
 |
| A Spiv in action. |
"Well, if you can change these before one o'clock, I'll see what can be done about it." As he spoke he gave me four snides (counterfeit half crowns). I left George and went on to a cafe. Here I met another fellow. "How's this?" I said, and I passed him a snide.
"My God, that's a good take! I'll give you a chip (shilling) for it and any more you can get hold of." At one o'clock I went to the address George had given me. He asked me in.
"Well, the baby's all right with me," I said. "A chip a time and as many as you can get hold of." He opened an oven and took out a tray of snide. He took off the lid of the press, and very carefully prised open the plaster. I saw two dozen snide of the best make. The dies were perfect, and the coins rang fairly true after they had been cooled and hardened in a mixture of George's own manufacture.
"Ok," I said, "I'll start graft with you in the morning."
*********************************************************************
When I got back to the flat Gladys said, "Listen, Bonzo, I've got a job for you tonight. Meet me outside Boots Piccadilly, at eight." At eight I was on the spot at Boots. I hadn't been there many minutes when a taxi pulled up and Gladys got out.
As she brushed past me I felt a little jolt in my jacket pocket. I watched her go into the chemist's and then I went back to the flat. There I looked in my pocket, and found a wallet. In it were photographs, theatre tickets, stamps and also £28 10s.
I waited on pins and needles for Gladys to get back. The temptation to quit with the money got stronger every minute, but I made myself wait. At last I heard a taxi stop. An elderly man was just coming in at the door, I went quickly into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard them come in.
"What a nice place this is, Toots," the man said.
"Not bad is it? Sit down while I get you a drink."
In a few minutes Gladys came to the bathroom and whispered to me to creep outside and telephone her. I went out quietly to a call box and phoned Gladys. She told me to call in and see her. When I arrived back at the flat Gladys introduced me as a private detective. I then heard the story.
It appeared that Gladys had met Mr X when he was with another girl she had never seen before, Gladys was annoyed and had some words with the girl. During the struggle Mr X tried to separate them. The other girl then ran away and left Gladys with Mr X. Gladys was exhausted after the fight, and so they got into a taxi and went to Boots, where Gladys had a tonic.
From there they went to a cafe, and then Mr X found his wallet gone. He knew that Toots wouldn't do such a thing, and knew it must have been the other girl. He described her to me, and I knew at once it had to be Dippy.
Acting The Part.
I smiled to myself at the clever way these girls were working. Gladys gave me a few more details, from which I took my cue. I told Mr X that I would certainly find the girl, but pointed out there would be little chance of getting the money back without prosecution.
Mr X seemed reluctant to do this, but Gladys said it was the only way to stop honest men from being robbed by such trash as these. I left them then, having made arrangements to report to Gladys. I hung around for an hour or so and then rang up Gladys, who said it was ok. So I made my way up back to the flat.
Gladys told me Mr X had decided that he would rather let the matter drop than face any unpleasant publicity. She had lent the old boy a fiver and was going to get it back tomorrow. I was given £8 as my share.
*********************************************************************
Next day when I went round George gave me 50 half crowns, and I realised that he wasn't the only one in the game, and that the mint I had seen was only a blind for suckers like me. After haggling, he agreed to pay me £1 a day if I got rid of the 50s worth a day. After seeing Rickets, who gave me the price of them, I went back to the flat.
*********************************************************************
Gladys had just come in. She had a nice diamond ring on her finger. "Done it again?" I said. "Yeah. Mr X gave it to me, and sent you £5 for your trouble." While I was sitting down having a drink, Gladys said to me "Bonzo, I'm afraid the game is up."
I was surprised, and asked her why. "Dippy's going home, she's packed the job in. The silly girl wasn't satisfied with getting rocks (diamonds) and bracelets and things every day, and plenty of dough. I can't work at this game on my own, she was always the mug finder and I was the one who got the spoils."
I gave Gladys a double Scotch. One drink led to another, and by six o'clock she was talking some. "Listen, Bonzo," she said. "Lets you and me work together and make this dive a club."
"Sure, I'm game, but where's the dough?"
"Oh, I've got that," and she showed me a bank pass book with a sum in four figures. "And that ain't all. If I get rid of these rocks that'll be enough won't it?" As she spoke she unlocked a little desk and brought out a small box full of diamonds and precious stones of all sizes.
Year's Spoils.
Then she got another box containing rings, brooches, tie pins, watches, cigarette cases, and lighters - in fact, every kind of jewellery. "How the devil did you get all that?" I asked. "That's a year's work," she said. She told me more of her exploits, which were so amazing I could write a book about her alone.
While she never sold herself, the men she met were always her payroll. The rings and presents she got from them she saved, and what Dippy stole from them they shared. We talked for hours about the club plan, and before I knew what was happening I found myself kissing her and telling her that if she wanted me for a partner I was hers.
That night we had the time of our lives. We went to several clubs, and at last to one known as "The Devil Worshippers," an astonishing place. It was a large house in ------. When Gladys had given the password to the man on the door in curses, he in his turn cursed us into the house.
We went into one large room, where there were ten or twelve well dressed men and women. Across the back of the room I saw a large black velvet curtain, and painted on it in red and white was the most horrible picture of the devil. In the centre of the room was an alter with a cross.
We had not been in the room more than a few minutes when all the people there started to make queer animal noises in their throats. Then two or three men dressed as priests and clergy entered the room, followed by about six quite young girls dressed purely in white.
The procession solemnly filed along the centre of the room. I looked round and there was not a smile on any face. Then they all started to chant. It was so strange a sound it made my flesh creep. The people stood staring at the procession and as it drew level with them they fell with their faces to the floor, still making the same noises.
When the procession reached the altar in the middle of the room the priests and the six girls bowed to the cross. As they approached the black curtain at the end of the room it was drawn open. There stood a magnificent altar, draped in silks and velvets. On it were crosses, Bibles, chalices, and flowers in profusion. As the procession knelt in front of it I could hear a harmonium softly playing.
As the priest rose the lights changed to red, swathing the whole room in a red glow. At this signal the Lord's Prayer was said backwards, with curses, and a scene of sudden confusion followed. The cross in the centre of the room fell over and broke. The priests blasphemed, and seizing the Bibles, tore them to bits; the crosses were broken, and the trappings pulled from the altar.
By this time the people were worked into a frenzy. The priests threw off their robes, the girls had their white robes torn off them, and such a bestial orgy followed that I could not possibly describe here.
Screeching Mob.
While I watched this happening the smell of burning incense began to stupify my brain, and I felt that I should faint. I fought against this, but Gladys saw my distress and took me into a smaller room, where the air was purer. Here was a table loaded with food, but there was no cutlery on the table, nor plates of any sort.
In a few minutes a yelling screeching mob of men and women in a wild state of disorder surged into the room. They grabbed at the food, pulling and tearing at it in their fingers, and making noises like animals.
At last we got away from this place. I had seen everything and far more than I wanted to. My head was in a whirl. I wondered how on earth people came to do these things. "If you get bread and butter from such places it doesn't do to have qualms," said Gladys. Then she pulled out a jewelled clasp. She had found it on the floor during the orgy.
"That's worth a visit, ain't it bert?"
Few people taught me more about the West End underworld than Gladys. One of her favorite tricks was to get a man drunk and then take his wallet, cufflinks, watch, rings, and cigarette case. Many times she came very near to being arrested. She would have been if it hadn't been that I answered the door and swore that it must have been a mistake, as I was the only person living there.
By this time she was well known in almost every night club in the West End; and the most select ones barred her.
Jimmy The Rat.
Occasionally the influence of a well heeled toff would get her into one, and then she nearly always managed to bring home the bacon. Soon Gladys sold all her possessions and started a night club of her own in Soho, the premises consisted of five rooms and a basement.
In a few weeks we were quite popular, and all would have gone well had Gladys stopped letting off rooms to girls, dancing and drink. But, she became very friendly with Jimmy the Rat. There was no crime which he hadn't committed and would commit again.
He was five feet eight inches high, with slim hips, but his shoulders were so square it looked as though the coat hanger had been left in the jacket. He had a broad flat nose on a thin pinched face, and when he spoke to you his beady eyes would roam around everywhere but at your face. Although his black hair was greased flat to his skull, the grease could not hide the kink which showed the Jamaican in him.
One night when Jimmy the Rat was talking to her, Gladys asked me to go along with him and fetch back a parcel. This I did, giving it to Gladys when I got back to the club. When she opened it she said, "Well, Bonzo, there's big dough in this. Take a sniff?" and she offered me a box of white powder. We both took a sniff; but I swore I'd never take another, and I never have.
"Easy dough, eh?"
"Yeah," I replied. "And plenty of time staring at us in the face too!"
Soon after this I noticed that the girls were hiring the rooms to dope the mugs they caught - and Gladys was selling them the dope for the trick. They always gave Gladys a pound or two when they led their dazed men out into the street. Sometimes it was my job to go and help with a fellow who'd had too much of it.
When this happened a special taxi was called, and the driver well paid to dump his fare in the Mall or some quiet side street. The profits grew so large that Gladys fired the band and turned the place into a plain dope den and place where the girls could bring their men victims. The large basement room was divided into cubicles, and there the dope addicts soaked themselves.
At last Gladys got into the white slave racket. She made a contract with a South American for a constant supply of white girls. She would send out a woman to accost girls in lodgings and hostels. These were engaged as maids in Gladys's flat.
Police Raid.
After a week or two Gladys would tell the girl she knew a wealthy couple, old and sometimes crippled, very fond of travelling, who wanted a girl like her. An appointment would be made, and the girl would be engaged by the couple. She was told to meet them in South America, and all her expenses were paid.
At last I found I couldn't stand this racket no longer, and pretending I was jealous of Jimmy the Rat, I cleared out. I left this racket just in time, as the place was raided soon after. Gladys had been tipped off, and was therefore prepared, so she and Jimmy the Rat got away in time.
*********************************************************************
Later I found myself once more, broke. One morning in Trafalgar Square I got talking to a waiter. He told me he knew of a hotel where they wanted stewards. "You'll get a pound a week, and a few tips," he said, "and they'll give you your board, but you've got to find your own clobber."
I went to see the manager, got the job, and was told to start the next day. But I was faced with the problem of finding the necessary clothes. I left the place and walked down the road thinking out my problem. As luck would have it, I came across a little old man pushing a barrow laden with all sorts of rubbish. Among it was an old dress suit. It was soon in my posession.
********************************************************************
Next morning at five I walked into the bunkhouse, where five stewards were still sleeping. I sat on the edge of the empty bunk. It was not long before a chef came in and started to shout. Four of the stewards woke up immediately and sat up stretching. One did not and the chef seized hold of his bed and tipped him out onto the floor. The chef then spotted me.
"I'm the new steward," I said.
"You're number three floor," he said. "You've eighteen trays to set up for early morning tea. Look alive now, because it'll soon be ready
"Righto chef," I said sarcastically, thinking my job wouldn't last a week under a boss like that. As the chef left the bunkhouse the other stewards were clambering into their clothes. "You've got a good floor," said one, "I wish I had it."
Black Sheep.
This young steward, whose name was Gibb, as I soon learned, took an immediate fancy to me. He was very tall and about twenty four years old. He was apparently the black sheep of the lot, for while the others rushed and hurried to get ready he merely sat up on the floor where he had been tipped by the chef and carried on his conversation.
"What do I have to do?" I asked, "I got the job yesterday, but I didn't have any clobber. I tapped this suit of a tatter last night."
"Don't worry. You won't have to use that until tonight. Here, put this on," and he chucked me a white coat and black bow tie. We walked to the kitchen together. I was careful to do exactly as he did. When he put up his hand for a tray I put mine up too. When he covered his tray with a serviette I covered mine with a serviette; when he got his teapot I got mine, and filled it from the same tap.
When I got my tray set I wondered who on my floor wanted early morning tea. I asked Gibby and he said, "No one on your floor takes early morning tea. That's why yours is such a good floor. You can sleep in another half hour. You can help with mine this morning. It'll help to break you in."
And so for the next hour I busied myself on Gibby's floor, right on top of the building. "Take the tray you've got there into No. 22, Miss So and so. Here y'are, here's the pass key. She'll probably be lying on the bed with half the clothes off."
True to Gibby's expectations, when I opened the door and approached the bed, there lying on the divan bed, her head nicely cushioned on a pillow, with her arms flung sideways, and the bedclothes flung back, was the young lady. I placed the tray on the stool at her side and said, "Your tea, miss."
She must have been awake for some time, as she opened her eyes without hesitation or the least sign of drowsiness, and smiled, saying, "Oh, thanks so much steward. You'll find 6d on the dressing table for you."
Five Predecessors.
"Thanks madam," I said. As I moved over to the dressing table she got out of bed to show me where it was. Then she suddenly remembered that she hadn't left it there at all, and padded across the room to take it out of her purse, standing in front of the door as she gave it to me. I thanked her and bowed my way out.
I met Gibby on the landing and gave him his 6d, which he refused, saying, "You keep it, kid." After our own breakfast I climbed the stairs to my own floor with my first tray, opened a door, and entered. I saw lying in the bed an elderly man, who said, "Good morning. What, another new steward? That's five on this floor since I've been here."
The next breakfast was for Miss Blonde, who, lying in bed awake with just a sheet over her, showed a slim figure about six feet long. Again I got the greeting, "What, another steward!" It took me a good hour to finish my floor. In this time I had taken twelve trays.
That night the time came when I was to expose my shortage of clothes, and although Gibby had expected almost anything of my dressing, he never expected the sight I presented when I tried on my suit. It fitted me perfectly where it touched, but it touched in very few places. It must have been made for a fat man at least six foot tall.
With the help of a pair of manicure scissors I gaily snipped away at the bottoms of the trouser legs until I had reduced them to a suitable length. Here Gibby came to my assistance, and grabbing the trousers at the waist, he gave them a tug until they looked like a fit. Then he pinned the spare cloth at the back of the trousers over in a six inch pleat, fastened it with three safety pins.
The matter of the shirt was much more difficult, as Gibby had sent his shirts to the laundry with the exception of the one he had to wear. Then he had a brainwave. Racing upstairs to the dining room, he came down with a handful of menu cards. Two he fitted with studs and tied round my chest to represent a shirt front, and a third at the back on which to fix the collar.
Cuts And Pins.
Cuffs he made by creasing a menu card and bending it round my wrist, securing it to my shirt sleeve with pins. He cut a collar out of another menu card and this, with the black bow tie he had lent me, looked quite effective.
I cleaned my shoes, and then came the job of making the waistcoat and coat fit me. The waistcoat wasn't so bad, as Gibby had treated it in the same manner as he had the trousers. The coat fitted me at the shoulders, but the tips of my fingers could only just be seen below the sleeves. However, with the help of the faithful scissors and a few more pins, we soon overcame this difficulty.
With all these gadgets of string and pins I was afraid to bend. Even the sergeant major in my army days could not have made me walk more erect than I did when carrying in my first plate of soup, with a towel gingerly tucked over my arm to cover up my cuff.
As I walked down the dining room between four long rows of dining tables, each one for the guests of a floor. I felt very self conscious, I swerved five without mishap. It was when I was taking out a pile of plates that I overreached myself, and a safety pin unsprung with a snap at the back of my trousers. I felt a sharp stab in my rear. It soon straightened me out, and I walked majestically out of the room, keeping my back as far away as I could from the pin.
With each step I could feel a nasty prick, and I nearly strained by belly with my efforts. I had almost reached the door of the dining room when I tripped in this acrobatic act, and the plates went crashing to the floor. Instinctively I bent down to repair the damage, and again I suddenly straightened up as the pin jabbed in.
Trimmings Burst.
Suddenly the menu cards burst from their moorings. I could have cried with fury. Gibby, however, came to my assistance, and he cleared up the mess while I dashed out into the bunkhouse. I thought my job was lost, and anyway I was too ashamed to go back, thinking that everyone in the room had seen my discomfiture.
I was waiting for the chef to come in and fire me on the spot, when Gibby came in and said, "Don't worry about it, nobody noticed. Why don't you take a risk and borrow a shirt from Mr X's room on your floor? He won't miss it."
It struck me as a good idea, and I dashed upstairs and borrowed the required shirt and collar, taking a pair of shoes at the same time. The shoes, however, didn't fit, so I returned them later. The shirt, when I tried it on, was half a size too small, but I managed to make it fit, despite the danger of strangulation. As I looked at myself in the mirror I was getting redder and redder, and streams of perspiration ran down my face.
It was a great relief when, after dinner was over, I took it off. I dreaded dinner time the next day when I would again have to go through the same procedure.
"Borrowed" Suit.
However, the following day I was very lucky, as a man on Gibby's floor was going away for a few days and had left his dress suit behind. It was almost a perfect fit and after going through the wardrobes of several gentlemen guests whose clothes fitted me, I borrowed shirts, collars, and shoes. The only twinge of conscience I had was when I served a man wearing his own shirt.
Perhaps I should have taken a lesson from this, as two days later the man who's suit I had borrowed showed up for dinner. I was unnerved when I saw him and Gibby talking hotly. I guessed that he was asking Gibby where his suit had gone.
But Gibby was never at a loss for an excuse, and explained that he had sent it to the cleaners as he had discovered a stain on the lapel. I was never so amused in my life as when Gibby, later in the evening, told me that the man had dropped him a crown for being so thoughtful.
Anyway, in three or four days I had collected enough in tips to pay for alterations to my dress suit, and it was quite a relief to get back into my own clothes again.
We brushed and ironed the borrowed suit and Gibby found a cleaner's box in which we returned it. Before taking it back, he marked on the box in blue pencil, "Paid 4s 6d." Out of this, which he collected later, he paid me half a crown.
No comments :
Post a Comment