Lynda Plante - The Talisman

With a small smile of thanks to the nervous Miss Henderson, Harriet sauntered into the room. Her heels made her almost as tall as Edward, at least six feet. He watched her drape her fur over the back of a chair, then parade slowly up and down the room, finishing with a flourish. ‘Well, how do you like the new image?’

‘Where in God’s name have you been? I’ve been worried stiff, why couldn’t you have had the fucking decency to call me?’

‘Ahhh, you like the outfit, do you? Good, because it cost you a lot of money.’

‘The outfit is fine — where have you been?’

‘Oh, it was just something that cropped up, and I had to rush off — you know, just like you had to... Cigarette?’

Edward raised his hands in exasperation. She flipped open a gold cigarette case and extracted a Gitane. ‘Do you have a light?’

‘What in Christ’s name are you playing at? Don’t you know how worried I’ve been? I was going to contact the police.’

‘Oh, I called Alex, didn’t he tell you? Well, aren’t you going to offer me a drink?’

Edward lit her cigarette and snapped the lighter closed. ‘I’d like to tan your hide, my girl, and stop playing silly buggers... You’ve been in France? Is that where you’ve been?’

He became more infuriated as Harriet calmly sat at his desk. He couldn’t help but be struck by just how beautiful she looked, but he was seething with jealousy. ‘Pierre? You’ve been with him?’

Harriet stubbed out her cigarette, rested her chin on her hands. ‘I’ll make a deal with you, Mr Barkley. From now on, you treat me with respect. If you are called away on business, then you let me know, and I shall let you know where I go.’

‘Ahhh, so that’s what it’s all about, is it?’

‘You were worried where I was — what do you think I felt when you upped and left without a word? Is it a deal?’

Suddenly Edward began to laugh, moving round the desk to her. Taking her hand, he pulled her to his feet. ‘It’s a deal, Mrs Barkley... and before I forget, you look beautiful. From now on, you’ll know my every move...’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

Miss Henderson tapped on the door to say she was leaving. She bobbed out again quickly when she found Mr and Mrs Barkley wrapped in each other’s arms. The following morning she informed the typing pool that Mr Edward’s wife was a Paris model with the longest legs she had ever seen in her life.

The long-awaited opening of Edward’s club was constantly delayed. It was already May 1961 and nothing had been officially approved. The place was standing ready and waiting, with only a brass plaque beside the door to give any sign that there was a club in the street, but it could not function without a licence. Edward had hoped he would be able to pull strings, but then Alex received a frantic telephone call from him. He was beside himself, they had been refused permission once again. Alex made a few enquiries, and then went round to the club.

Commercial gaming tables, casinos, were illegal. The Royal Commission in 1951 prohibited commercial gaming of any significance, stating that:

Anyone who plays, elsewhere than in a private house, any game in which there is an element of chance for money or money’s worth runs a grave risk of committing a penal offence. There are certain games such as roulette which it is even illegal to play in a private house...

The Betting and Gaming Act went even further than the Commission’s recommendations in allowing a fixed charge to be made in advance to members (of twenty-four hours’ standing) of a club. The Act did not stipulate, as the commissioners had recommended, that the charge should be limited to an amount that would cover the cost of providing the facilities.

Edward listened intently as Alex outlined the gaming laws. They could not move without a licence for their club. If they opened without one they would be shut down and fined heavily. Edward was furious, knowing that illegal clubs were coining it all over London.

It appeared to Edward that Alex was doing everything to dissuade him from continuing the club project. Alex, however, had learned fast and his initial desire to be one hundred per cent legitimate was beginning to bend. He knew more than anyone the potential earnings from clubs, he had after all run one himself.

Edward swung backwards and forwards in his chair, giving Alex sidelong glances. ‘Your nose twitching, is it, brother? I thought you were sidestepping my deal. What d’you want?’

The curse laid to rest with Freedom’s talisman now moved like a shadow into the room. They carried it close to their hearts in the shape of the small gold medallions. The brothers, unaware of its existence, felt nothing untoward happening, but Alex, who had until now refused to participate in any underhand dealing, was changing. Edward felt it, but put it down to simple greed. ‘Well, what d’you want? Part of the club?’

Alex shook his head, leaned forward smiling. ‘I get a percentage of whatever comes through the company, just taking care of my interest... now, will you pay attention and listen. The law has no right of entry into any club to do checks, therefore any criminal proceedings would be slow. That could give us a chance to switch the games. We could stay one jump ahead of the law quite easily, but we will have to think about cabaret, dancing, making the restaurant larger... We can also get around it by bringing in customers. Advertising here is cut to a minimum — in other words we aren’t even allowed to advertise as a club — but there is nothing to stop us bringing in customers from abroad. We hire special flights, give them special deals, overnight memberships...’

Excited, Edward clapped his hands, thumped Alex on the back. He was making phone calls before Alex had finished.

The brass plate outside the club said simply, ‘Banks’. The closed membership had given rise to many people fighting to join. The gaming rooms contained American roulette (with double zero giving advantage to the house), blackjack, punto banco, French roulette, craps, and baccarat, and there were two rooms for private high-stakes poker games.

On the ground floor was an exclusive restaurant, with a larger room leading off containing a small dance floor and a cabaret stage. The interior, so elegant and ornate, drew people like magnets. High-class American acts were hired, and a six-piece band. The staff wore uniform, the hostesses dressed in fashionable evening gowns. All the girls had been hand-picked for looks by Edward himself.

It was made clear to the girls from the word go that he wanted no tricks being turned, no girls earning extras on the side. They were there only for decoration and to be pleasant to the customers, without behaving like hookers.

Six young chorus girls were hired. Their costumes were showy, glitzy and sexy, their routines provocative. They were to open the two sessions of the cabaret, at nine o’clock and midnight. There was just enough room for their routine on the small floor.

Tirelessly, Edward supervised every item in the club, double-checking with Alex, vetting the first night’s guest list for class, contacts and, above all, wallets. ‘No good getting in a crowd that don’t have a cent to their names, so make sure we mix and match.’

Alex was kept on the go, organizing the cashiers, checking croupiers, barmen, doormen. They had to have exemplary credentials, otherwise they were dismissed without wasting a second. The brothers had to watch their backs, knowing how much could be siphoned off.

At last everything was set, and Edward called all the male staff into the restaurant — the chefs, waiters, doormen, croupiers and cashiers. As always, Alex remained in the background, watching from the office door as Edward called them to order. The whole room hushed as Edward waved his hand for silence, standing taller than any of them, wearing a white dinner jacket, a cigar clamped between his teeth. His speech was short and to the point, telling them simply that they had been hand-picked, they were special. He stressed to them that if the club did well they could all expect a bonus. ‘There will also be a large bonus for any member of staff discovering any in-house fiddling, backhanders, from the roulette tables down to the ladies’ powder-room tips. If any member of staff even suspects something is going on, they must come to me in confidence, and they will be rewarded for their loyalty... I don’t have to tell you what will happen to anyone caught with their fingers in the till. The reason I have called you all here, from the head waiter to the washers-up, is that this is a family, one big family, and anyone stepping outside the family circle must be dealt with. The success of the club depends on you all, and I assure you, the more successful we are the higher will be your financial rewards... Thank you.’