Lies And Consequences Collection

Chapter 5

The Savoy

“I was a page at the Savoy Hotel when I was fifteen, Patrick. My dad had died the year before and although I was in a grammar school with ambitions of perhaps making it into a university, Mum needed the extra money that I could provide with that job. I was a bit ruthless in those days; it was the tips I was really after. Saw the advert at the bottom of a newspaper I was delivering on my paper round one morning and applied straight away. I had to bunk off school to get there. The only qualifications it said that were needed was you had to be clean and not too tall. I passed on both those counts. I think the man who was in charge was called Snow, but it could have been Scott. Nearly forty years have flown past since I was given that first pair of white gloves. They gave you three pairs a day you know, so none got dirty or grubby. Good little earner, that job! Bit wearing on the old feet, though. Must have walked miles each day through the corridors and reception halls. There were eight of us, I think, delivering messages or going out for cigarettes or flowers for the guests. Gave you a cloak to wear if you had to go outside through the main doors. Great fun I tell you, especially if it was an American guest you were going out for.

They tipped well, but no one tipped like a US celebrity. Had a few in my day. Don"t ask me for their names as most of them I"d never heard of, but Mr Snow, or whatever his name was, said they were really important and to look after them. Added a big wink when he said that. That was enough for me. I do remember one celeb, a young girl, a year or so younger than me who was over here to sing on the stage at the Adelphi. She was with her parents and every morning I was instructed to take breakfast to her room. I was the only one allowed to do that. Her mother gave me two tickets to the show, and, don"t faint, a five-pound note! More than a year"s wage. I went with my mum, who was so proud of me knowing this American girl that she told all our street that she was off to the theatre to see Judy Garland. She bought a hat for the occasion from that fiver. My mum would fill a hot bath tub every night for me after that for my sore feet. She and I feasted well on the strength of my tips and the stories I told about who I"d met at Savoy.”

“Was it at the Savoy that you were first approached to work for the secret mob, Jack?”

“Observe and listen, they were the first orders I received, Pat. That"s all we want you to do. So said Mr Stewart Campbell, my first handler in early 1933. He wanted me to pin my ears back for mentions about Germany and the name of Hitler in particular. Then they wanted more. They always did! I was promoted in-house a year later to the reception desk and that"s where Alhambra comes into the equation, although, he wasn"t called that then, of course. Trenchard came a few weeks later. "The Strummer" was Alhambra"s code name between Campbell, Trenchard and me, and I was to handle him carefully, they told me. Taking note of callers, telephone numbers if I could, along with which guests he mostly spoke to or mingled with. Trenchard was a junior at Five then. I called him a runner as he was always in a hurry to get somewhere else. He passed on instructions from Campbell and sometime later one of them ordered me to enlist in the Blackshirts of Sir Oswald Mosley. I was on my way to one of the rallies held in the East-End, calling for him to be released from internment, when I came across that man at Whitechapel with the g*n. I knocked him out, but my cover was blown in Mosely"s New Party so they assigned me elsewhere. I was sent to a Royal Naval yard to work in order to unearth a Communist spy, but I can"t tell you of that. Mind you, by that time I had every name signed up to Mosley"s way of thinking, some would blow your mind wide open, Pat. What I will say is that I told Campbell about John Cairncross way before his name cropped up with Burgess and the other lot from Cambridge. Dropped Victor Rothschild"s name on his lap as well, but what I said was ignored because, as I said before, I never lived in Guildford and only went to a common old grammar school. I was not one of the chaps. Wrong side of the country for inclusion into their club.”

That"s all we want you to do“Why would they wipe your file clean from 1948 if you didn"t finish with them until "53? That doesn"t make sense unless you did some really important covert stuff for them and they wanted to hide you.”

There was a wide smile from Jack as he finished picking at his food, neatly placing his knife and fork beside each other and laying them diagonally across his half eaten meal. At first, I thought the smile was because the pasta he"d had and the wine he"d drunk both met with his approval, but there was another reason.

“Do you remember me saying that the chair you paid so much attention to was given to me when I retired from the service, Pat?” I nodded in agreement. “Well, that wasn"t entirely true. I took it as my going away present! Walked out the office, past a startled janitor and boarded a bus carrying it. A right two and eight of a mess I made of it on that bus, I can tell you. The conductor said it was too big, but it wasn"t at an angle. I only travelled as far as the train station and he let me ride on the platform with it. Caught the train into Marylebone then had to walk all the way home to Baker Street with it across my back. It has been everywhere with me since then. Had it re-covered more times than I can recall. Did you wonder why it has three sides?” he asked. To which I replied that I had.

“Barrington brought it in with him one day. Wanted to make some derogatory gesture in front of all the others, put me in my place kind of thing. Said that one side was us, the Brits, one the Americans and the other represented the Russians. But although I asked him what he meant by that, he wouldn"t say. Trenchard was by then in Special Branch, heading up "A" department; internal affairs. Sort of rubber-heel mob, creeping around with their noses up each other"s arse. They were amateurs, Patrick. Made loads of noise and unnecessary commotion. I was under surveillance by them. When I complained, I was informed that I was suspected of having been turned in Vienna, where I had diligently served my country. They had no evidence of that, because it had never happened, but I was told it was—standard practices, old chap. We use the same procedure on everyone who has returned from foreign lands. We suspect first and regret the inconvenience later; if we must! and don"t take it personally. But I did, in a big way! Can you see the irony in all of this?”

We use the same procedure on everyone who has returned from foreign lands. We suspect first and regret the inconvenience later; if we must!don"t take it personallyI answered that I couldn"t and he"d left me behind somewhere. As two glasses of Marsala were delivered to our table that I had not seen Jack order, he explained how he had come to that conclusion.

“There you are, a university graduate helping another graduate to bring down another who has enjoyed privilege, but having to engage me, an old washed-up spy from the wrong side of the bed. One whose affiliations were once questioned but never answered.” He tasted his wine as I tasted mine before continuing.

“Trenchard needs not only you but me too, Patrick. On your own, I doubt the two of you would have got close. Even if I"m wrong you most certainly would not have any inside knowledge of Miller so soon. From him there must be a direct money trail to Alhambra. The trouble for Barrington is yet to be revealed, but it will be, believe me. I will introduce you to the ultimate prey right after we drink up and leave. That"s where things will start to get hairy. A simple point I would like to raise before we set about our quest. How do you suppose a known fascist who still advocates his hatred of Jews and all blacks, yellows and browns can get a licence to run a club in London? Let"s forget about his trade in pornographic books and concentrate on why he"s not locked up for his political statements. Whose pockets do you think he"s lining?”

“Could be freedom of speech, Jack? Something along those lines, perhaps?”

“If only! Soho might be a closed shop to outsiders, but it"s nothing compared to Freemasons, Westminster and the law, Pat. You"re on a loser, my son. You"re the tethered lamb to bring out the snakes while the lions gorge on the buffalo around the next bend. If you want my advice, which you haven"t asked for but nevertheless will get, then call it in now. There"s a phone box we pass before we get to his club. It"s never been raided, not even Barrington would dare to do that.”

“Why, Jack? That would seem the obvious place to start.” Another smile preceded his reply.

“You are an ant in this world, Patrick. You are expected to show the corruption in the police that every Tom, d**k and Harry walking the streets of London know about. Appease the public mind. You are not expected to find politicians having it off in the back rooms of a Nazi"s club in the Capital on a Friday night whilst claiming allowances for legitimate entertainment. Follow Miller"s money lodged in his local bank under his sister"s name of Carolyn McKay; her husband, incidentally, is the MP for Darlington. Call in the Sweeney, Pat. Tell them you believe there"s an IRA gunman in the Guitar. Use whatever your Kilburn cover name was and they"ll come running. Then comes the hard bit. You"ll have to get away. Out of the Job and far gone. You look perplexed at that, why? You don"t believe me?”

“Can"t see that I"d be a pariah by outing the corrupted, Jack. Just can"t see that at all!”

“No, you"re not as cynical as me. Do you know who"s the Member of Parliament for Herne Bay, Pat? But don"t worry, they won"t arrest him. The Prime Minister has a green pass on s*x. You might be made Commissioner overnight, or you might not. Depends on how much they value your silence. Don"t just settle for a chair, Patrick, idiotic ideals are worth more than that. Go somewhere abroad. America would be my choice. More liberal minded over there. Write a book about it all and get it accepted into Hatchards. They have Royal patronage, with three Royal warrants displayed announcing their self-importance. But if they try to slam a D notice on it here in England you"ll have no worries as you will have readers crawling all over you in the States. I never had the bottle, nor the intelligence to do that and it"s too late now.”

“What happened in Vienna, Jack? Were you turned?”