This is the final report on the seedy side of pre war London by John Worby in the Weekly Dispatch.
One night I found myself outside a cafe on the main North Road. I went in to scrounge a cup of tea, and as I was telling the tale - that I had had no food for a couple of days - a man walked over to me and said "Did I hear you say that you were hungry?"
He turned to the chap behind the counter and said: "Give him a cup of tea and eggs and bacon." Then he asked me to sit at his table. He was a smart looking man of about thirty. But his eyes were very shifty and he seemed to be ill at ease as he talked to me. He kept looking out at his car through the window - a flash looking car.
Suddenly he asked me if I could drive.
"Anything." I answered.
"Maybe I can use you," he said. "Better come back with me to London."
Questioned.
After we had gone some distance he asked me if I'd ever done 'time.' I immediately replied "No."
Then he said: "Well, how do you get your living?"
"By my wits," I replied.
"That's just what I thought," he exclaimed. "How would you like to make yourself some real money?"
I told him that I didn't mind making some real money so long as there is no blood spilt.
"You needn't worry about that," he said. "There's no slugging to be done in my job. All you've got to do is to be a good driver."
Suddenly he pulled over in to the side of the road and made me take the wheel. I accelerated quickly and shot into top gear, missing the second gate. The car leaped from underneath us. I thought there was something peculiar about the car as the steering was beautiful and the car was very easy to handle. It was more than an ordinary car of its make and the purr of its engine reminded me of an aeroplane - heavily muffled.
I wished to impress the man and accordingly took every corner very shortly and as near to the edge as possible. On several occasions I felt the rear of the car skid round, but with the skidding I decreased my speed and then opened up wide as soon as I got on the straight.
At last I felt the man was getting rather nervous. He put his hand gently on my arm and said: "You'd better pull up."
"You're just the boy for my job," was his summing up.
"Gadgets"
Then he added: "Now I'll get you in on the racket, and chance the consequences. This drag (car) you're in belongs to me and the boys. We're on a hot racket in town and can get away with plenty. Only we want a good driver, somebody who can get in and out of the crowd and leave 'em standing."
"What's the racker, then?" I asked.
"We do smash and grabs, but it's all done to time," he replied. "I'm the brains of the gang and we split what we get. You'll be the driver in the next raid. Have you noticed anything about this drag?"
"It's no ordinary engine you've got under the bonnet," I replied.
"Clever boy!" he remarked rather sarcastically. "How did you guess it?"
He then told me that if I felt underneath the dashboard I'd find two wires which, when pulled, tilted the licence plate so that the numbers could not be read. He pointed to a pedal beside the self starter and told me to press it with my foot. I did so and the four doors of the car flew open.
"Now," he said, "if you pull on the hand break the doors will shut."
He then showed me the other little gadgets in the car. By pressing a button the blinds of the car would go down. There was a sliding panel in the floor and another in the back of the car, all worked by buttons. He lifted up the seat and showed me a dozen different licence plates to be used when the car was being trailed. The driver had to put on enough speed to get clear of the trailing car in order to do the trick of changing the plates without detection.
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We arrived in the East End of London and pulled up in a deserted street in a very slummy district. He tooted a special signal on the horn and a few seconds later a man came running to the side of the car. My companion grunted a quick word of command and then said to me; "come on!"
I followed into what appeared to be a deserted building. As we climbed in the dark up some wooden stairs my companion gave a whistling signal; a faint reply was heard from above. We went up three of four flights of stairs and at last I saw a thin faint beam of light coming from under a door. My companion knocked in a certain way on the door, and he received a similar reply. To this he tapped again and the door was opened.
We entered the room and I stood for a moment under the glare of a dozen gangsters. "It's all right boys," said my companion. "Another member." They grunted and asked where I had come from. My companion, or "The Brains" as they called him, replied: "He's got no come from. He's just here, and that's good enough for any of you!"
While this talk went on I gazed around the room. The windows were heavily draped with sacking. The table was a big sugar crate, on which was a piece of coarse cloth. About the room stood battered and broken cigarette machines, old safes, gas meters, silver cups, furs, oil paintings, bales of clothes and silks, and all sorts of loot.
Inside a large broken safe was a small smelting pot, beside which lay a lump of molten gold and a larger mould of silver. As I sat down on a box I listened to the discussion of the gang's next raid - a pawnbrokers shop.
The Brains confided to the men that I was a good driver and just the right man for them. The raid was to take place in the small hours of the morning. A man read out the times when the slops on their beat passed the "job." There were about five minutes to spare in which to do everything and they all agreed that this was ample time.
Presently two flashy dressed young women came in. They flaunted across the room and smiled. Nobody greeted them. Then without saying a word they sat down on a box at the far end of the room and the men carried on talking as if the women weren't there.
The "Split"
At last the Brains said; "Will you have the split now or will you have it tomorrow?"
There was no answer. Nobody seemed in any need of money. "Well," he said. "I'll give it to you now." And pulling out a role of notes from inside his waistcoat he handed them round to everybody in the room. He gave me one pound, saying; "You'll come in on the next split."
Then he beckoned to the two girls sitting in the far corner and we four left the room, while the rest of the crooks were still huddled together mumbling in a low drone.
The Brains took the wheel of the car and I sat in front beside him as we started off. It seems to me very strange that the women had never said one word since I set eyes on them. All they had done was to smile, till at last I thought they were dumb. But as we came to the busier part of London with lights and shops that were shut, the Brains turned and said; "That's the spot I want you to take Nell."
"OK!" she replied in a tough way.
Farther on the Brains said to me; "That's the job," and he pointed to a pawnshop. "You'll pull up over there and the Boys will do the rest. As soon as the Boys get the stuff in the drag, you drive away as fast as you can where the Boys tell you and the job will be a piece of cake."
Then driving on a bit farther he turned to the other girl and said; "There's your pitch, Mona."
"Right-o!" she replied.
As we drove on he said; "Well, I suppose you all know your stuff now, so I'll let you women out here." They got out and walked back in the direction from where we had just come from. The Brains then said to me; "The Boys will be along any time now."
By this time I was getting rather implicated in the job, so I began to think of a way out. I said to the Brains; "Better drive round till we come to an all night cafe, for a cup of tea, then I'll be all set for anything."
"Yes," he said. "I think I could do one too."
Escape
We soon arrived at a cafe, and the Brains said; "You go in first and I'll wait in the tub." So after a tea, I returned and sat in the car while the Brains went in. But as soon as he got out of sight, I slipped out of the car and ran around the corner.
I hailed a taxi and was so excited when the driver said, "Where to, sir?" that I answered, "Anywhere!"
He looked at me rather puzzled and as he was wasting time I shouted out; "Charing Cross as quickly as you can, I've a train to catch."
He drove off, but I was rather ill at ease in this taxi and before the meter came to a shilling I said; "Stop here, you're too slow." I got out and paid the fare. And although he looked at me as though he thought me a rum customer. I gave him a shilling tip, which changed his features altogether.
I strolled into the night and felt thankful to have seen what I had seen and at the same time to have escaped trouble.
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Once I made up my mind to get a job and really make a career for myself. But I soon found this too difficult. This made me feel very bitter and I went out on the spree and spent all the money I had. After this I started on a racket with George, a pal of mine.
We took a small office in the West End, and put the following advertisement in the papers:
What Every Young Couple about to be Married should have. Illustrated, 2/6.
Then we sat back and waited for the money to roll in. It wasn't long before we were making £15 a week. For the 2s 6d we sent the gullible public a small illustrated Bible which cost us about fourpence. But a well known weekly paper got on our tracks, and wrote us up, calling us everything but gentlemen. So in three weeks we had to pack up and think of something else.
Soap Racket
This time we bought some ordinary yellow scrubbing soap. We had labels printed for it, describing it as "Rheumatic Healing Soap." This we advertised as follows; Wash Your Rheumatism Away.
We were soon selling it like hot cakes at one shilling a slab. But the joke of it was that people even wrote for more, saying what tremendous relief they had got from it. But all good things must come to an end, and so did the soap racket. We spent all the profits, got into debt, and could buy no more soap.
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| John Worby in the London Hospital after being beaten up by gangsters. |
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