Nasty Business

by Gillian Godden

  He had a lot of salt and pepper hair, making him look like some mad scientist. He was tall and slim, but he had an air of authority about him. He came across as very friendly, and told Tony and Jake all they wanted to know, and even advised them on the best croupiers he was training. They all had their licences, and were drilled every day on their mathematical skills and how to ‘kiss up’ when they needed a supervisor.

  ‘Kiss up’ is a gambling term especially for croupiers. All the supervisors walk around the tables regularly, checking on things. To get their attention, instead of shouting or waving, the croupiers make a kissing sound. That’s the code that means the supervisor is needed. It was all these little tricks of the trade that Tony wanted to know about.

  Graham, the croupier trainer, was worth more than his weight in gold, and Tony couldn’t help himself – he offered him the manager’s job there and then. He didn’t want to wait; this man knew his stuff. He also knew the croupiers he had trained, and he was already their boss.

  Graham was taken aback; he hadn’t expected this. He had been flattered when he had heard Mr Lambrianu wanted to meet him, at his own convenience, and even more flattered when Tony asked his advice.

  ‘Have you ever managed a casino before, Graham? You seem to have done a lot.’ Tony was eyeing him up. He reckoned Graham was just what he was looking for – a well-known, well-respected croupier trainer, without a blemish on his record.

  ‘I have, Mr Lambrianu, but the hours are long and stressful. Keeping people happy enough to want to spend their money can be very hard work, at times. It’s nice to go home, for a change, at the end of the day, and not worry that there’s something you may have forgotten.’

  Tony nodded his head, he knew exactly what Graham meant. He felt like he was always on call. On the odd occasion, he disappeared to Elle’s house. There, he could be himself. Jake was around, if needed, but sometimes Tony just wanted to escape the limelight and eat Elle’s sausages and mashed potato, and lounge on her sofa, watching nothing in particular on the television while Elle was at bingo.

  There were no journalists there, no photographers to catch him out when he wasn’t wearing one of his famous Savile Row suits. This was home, somewhere he could be himself. There were times when, after all these years, Tony felt the women in his life were becoming boring. Everyone wanted the ‘showman’. He knew he had only himself to blame for this, he had wanted the publicity and played up to the cameras for it, but sometimes having no privacy made life hard.

  That was another reason he had liked the idea of the men’s club. All of the rich, elite men had used it as an escape from the public eye. Maybe he should take a leaf out of their book. Everyone needed their own space. Jake went home with Sharon, back to their home and their own little nest. That was where they could relax and be themselves. Of course, Jake and Sharon had a much bigger house now, much nearer the West End for convenience, but it was their much-needed space to be alone.

  ‘Can I think about it, Mr Lambrianu? I mean no disrespect, but it would be a lot to take on.’ Graham knew who Tony was, and he had heard of his gangland reputation, so by no means did he want to upset this man. Even though not in the circle, he knew by the gossip it wouldn’t be good for his health.

  ‘I respect that, Graham. Bear in mind you’d be free to hire your own assistant manager, someone as trustworthy as yourself. After all, whoever you hired, you and you alone would be responsible for.’ Even though Tony was turning on the charm and being friendly, the fleeting thought that passed through Graham’s mind was how threatening that sounded. Any hiccups his assistant might make would put his head on the chopping block.

  ‘You’ll need four or five managers, Mr Lambrianu, and then they would answer to one main manager, who would answer to you. That’s how it works. You need managers for the roulette tables, blackjack tables and so on.’ Graham actually started feeling sorry for Tony; he realised now that Tony hadn’t realised how much work he had taken on. This wasn’t a nightclub.

  Tony smiled at him, his cheeks beginning to colour. He had shown how naïve he was in the casino game. He looked towards Jake for backup.

  ‘Well, Graham, it sounds like we need you more than you need us,’ said Jake, trying to make light of the situation. ‘If nothing else, why don’t you come on the payroll as an adviser. We need you, that’s pretty obvious.’ Jake’s free and easy way seemed to do the trick.

  Graham nodded. ‘I’d be happy to help in any way I can. What plans do you have for the casino? Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice place, but it’s dated. That’s why it lost money; it didn’t attract new custom.’

  Now Tony felt he was on firmer ground. ‘If it’s updated glamour you want, I’m your man. Jake’s right, we’re going back to school and you’re going to be our teacher.’ Tony held out his hand to shake Graham’s. He felt he had fallen on his feet with this man.

  ***

  Tony was in his apartment above the club, discussing the day’s proceedings with Jake, when Sharon rang to say there was someone here to meet them. She didn’t say anything else; she just put the intercom phone down.

  ‘What the hell is it now,’ Tony muttered. He pushed back his hair, put on his jacket and went downstairs to his office. They were both surprised to see a gentleman in his late fifties, possibly sixties, waiting for them.

  The man was extremely well dressed, his suit impeccable, his tie knotted with a perfect full-Windsor, and he didn’t have a hair out of place. He was stocky, but held himself upright and proud. He was definitely old school. He held out his hand and introduced himself. ‘I’m Bernard Mathers, I believe you wanted to see me.’

  Tony shook his hand out of habit, then he and Jake looked at each other and then back at this overpowering man, with his British public-school accent. His tone of voice, and the way he pronounced each syllable, with a kind of inherent snobbery, reminded them both of a headmaster. Thankfully Sharon was on hand to solve the mystery.

  ‘Mr Mathers, has come at your request, Tony. He was the maître d’ at the men’s club,’ she said. She didn’t want to use the word ‘butler’, in case it caused offence.

  ‘Of course. My apologies, do come in, Mr Mathers.’ Tony unlocked the office door and held out his hand to usher Mr Mathers in first. ‘Please, take a seat. Would you like some tea, coffee or maybe something stronger?’

  ‘Not just now, thank you.’ His curt reply caused an awkward silence in the room. Even the way he sat upright on the chair seemed to make Tony want to sit up straighter. Jake broke the ice first. ‘I’m sure you are aware, Mr Mathers, that we have bought the men’s club. The widow of the previous owner has requested that we keep on some of the staff that have worked there loyally for many years. I’m sure we don’t need to tell you all of this, because I am fairly sure you have been kept up to speed on things. So, what about you? Are you still willing to work there?’ Jake felt it was the quickest and easiest way to put it. If this man wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t have come. On the other hand, seeing that he was a typical British gentleman, he had probably come to tell them he didn’t want their job. Now was the time to find out.

  ‘You should wear a Windsor knot in your tie, Mr Lambrianu, it shows style.’ Mr Mathers reached over the desk, took hold of Tony’s tie and started adjusting it.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said, and he sat back in the chair again. He looked across at Jake, who wasn’t wearing a tie, because he had left it upstairs, and gave him a look of disdain.

  Who’s interviewing who here? Tony thought. His face turned pink. Tony cleared his throat and tried to compose himself; he felt about five years old in front of this man. ‘So, as Jake, my brother, has asked, are you interested in working at the men’s club?’

  Mathers paused before answering, then said, ‘That would depend, Mr Lambrianu. I was in charge of the club, and the staff where answerable to me. There is a housekeeper, Mrs Gibbins; she instructed the cleaners and made sure the rooms were aired. My gentlemen relied on me and how I ran thing
s.’

  Tony liked the way this man called the members his ‘gentlemen’, he thought that showed real style. No wonder they depended on him. He was like one of those butlers you knew about from old movies or posh television dramas. This man was looking for a job, but he had given his terms and put Tony and Jake firmly in their place.

  ‘Nothing in that department would particularly change, although I do have a few changes of my own that I wish to make.’ Tony was trying to pronounce his words as accurately as Mr Mathers was doing. He had always made a point of speaking properly, but this man made him want to improve himself further. It wasn’t just clothes that made the man.

  ‘Such as?’ Mr Mathers got straight to the point, he wanted to know what kind of changes Tony was thinking about making before agreeing to anything. He waited patiently. Tony tried diverting his eyes from Mr Mathers, he really didn’t want to tell him he was thinking of having scantily dressed women in ‘his’ club. He felt embarrassed saying it.

  Jake came to the rescue. ‘We think a better kitchen, offering a broader menu would be in order, Mr Mathers.’ He waited and watched Mr Mathers nod his approval. Now for the big one. ‘We, well, I, also thought it might be a nice idea for your gentlemen to have the opportunity to appreciate some female entertainment, or at least waitresses. We anticipate they’d be dressed in sexier clothing than waitresses traditionally wear, although it would still be very classy.’ Jake was trying to find the right words and realised he had failed miserably.

  Thank God Sharon walked in with a tray of coffee. ‘Here you are, gentlemen, I thought you might like this.’ She had organized a tray with a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar. Rather than their usual mugs, there were proper coffee cups and saucers. She knew how to appeal to Mr Mathers.

  Jake explained to Mr Mathers that Sharon was his wife, and gained an approving nod. This was hard work. Sharon could see Tony and Jake were at a loss for words and thankfully intervened. ‘Would you like to pour, Mr Mathers, or shall I be mother?’ She put her hand out towards the coffee pot and instantly, Mr Mathers took over.

  Sharon had read and seen all of those Jane Austen novels, and remembered how the butlers behaved.

  ‘We would like to leave the club as it was, Mr Mathers,’ she said, ‘but as it is a members-only club, we also felt that we should provide everything for the members. There would be you, of course, overseeing all of the arrangements. We want a good chef who can offer whatever takes the gentlemen’s fancy and, as there are a few large lounges, we think one of them could be an entertainments room. All the rest would stay exactly the same. However, we thought that maybe some of the younger gentlemen might appreciate that feminine touch.’ Sharon had cracked it. She had said just what Jake and Tony were thinking, but couldn’t find the words to express.

  They could all see Mr Mathers was deep in thought. He obviously didn’t like the thought of women invading his club. ‘Of course, it’s your club, Mr Lambrianu, and it’s no secret you hire exotic dancers, that’s your business. Personally, I wouldn’t like to think of the club as some sort of brothel, with all due respect.’

  ‘Neither would I,’ said Tony. ‘We’re just offering entertainment, Mr Mathers. That way, if they wanted, the members could be entertained in their own private space, without having to rub shoulders with … well, just anyone.’ Tony didn’t want to say ‘commoners’, because he felt that Mr Mathers thought he was common. Brothel, indeed!

  ‘Well, that sort of thing would have to be left in the capable hands of Ashley, he would be good at that sort of thing. Personally, I would like to distance myself from it and tend to my gentlemen in the other lounges.’

  ‘Ashley? Who is Ashley?’ asked Tony. Now they were getting way ahead of themselves. This bloody butler was already organizing the staff.

  ‘Ashley is a young gentleman, fully trained as a butler, who was an under butler at one of the large estate houses. He was always on hand to cheer the gentlemen up and see to their needs. Looking after the entertainment side of things would be his dream come true. Yes, Ashley is definitely the man for the job.’

  It seemed Tony that Mathers had already made up his mind, and now he was beginning to lose his patience with this pompous old butler. Sharon saw the look in Tony’s eye and knew she had to step in again.

  ‘He sounds excellent, Mr Mathers. And, of course, with that kind of recommendation from you, how could we refuse? So, do you wish to continue as butler of the club, or are you going to leave us to find a poor substitute for you?’ Sharon smiled at him, and cast a sly glance over at Tony.

  Then Mr Mathers took them all by surprise; he reached into his coat pocket and took out a notebook, which he handed to Tony. ‘I have contacted most of the gentlemen in the book, who were members. Some are away at the moment, many have houses abroad, you know.’

  Jake looked at Tony, amazed; his jaw nearly dropped. That crafty old sod had always intended on taking the job, he had already informed all the old members that the club had a new owner, and would be re-opening soon. This Ashley guy, whoever he was, was going to be in charge of entertainment? No way, Sharon did that.

  ‘You seem to have thought of everything, Mr Mathers, what would we do without you? Of course, we’re planning to get the decorators in and to spruce the club up, a little. As you know, the kitchen area will have to be sorted out. Would your housekeeper be willing to carry on with her good work, do you think?’ Sharon knew how to appeal to this man; although she was acting like the lady of the manor, she was still entrusting the butler to make all of the necessary arrangements. That was the way he liked it. ‘Maybe I could meet Ashley, and we could discuss the entertainment?’ Sharon left it as an open question, and waited.

  ‘I think that would be acceptable. I’ll contact him immediately, and let him know you wish to meet him.’

  Suddenly, Tony and Jake realised they were not included in the conversation. All these arrangements were between Mr Mathers and Sharon. Tony and Jake just looked on, like sleeping partners of the club. Or spare parts.

  ‘So, Mr Mathers, do we have a deal? Are you going to carry on doing your good work and look after “our gentlemen”?’ Sharon smiled at him. She didn’t want it to sound cold, like a job interview. It was obvious Mr Mathers knew his stuff and had been around the block many times and seen it all. On the surface, he was the typical English butler; underneath, he knew everyone’s secrets.

  All the men in that club had confided in him at some point or another, and he knew everything about them. They trusted him, and it would be hard going to find someone else they would trust in the same way. Of course he was going to carry on with his old job, he had always intended to, he just wanted to make his presence known. He was nobody’s fool, and he wanted the great Mr Lambrianu to know it.

  ‘Of course,’ interrupted Tony, trying to think of something to say, so that he wouldn’t be totally forgotten, ‘there would be a wage increase, and if there was anything that you weren’t happy with, you should let us know.’

  Mr Mathers shook his finger at Tony. ‘Let’s not talk of vulgarities like money and wages just now, Mr Lambrianu. And it’s “were not”, not “weren’t”. People notice these things.’ Now Mathers was correcting Tony’s speech. In an odd kind of way, Tony liked him. He came across as a little pompous and scary, but he was more like a father figure. He stood up; the meeting was over.

  ‘You are right, of course, Mr Mathers. Give me time and I will learn, I promise.’ Tony stood, too. He smiled at him and shook his hand. Then Sharon linked her arm through Mr Mathers’ arm and showed him out. It was all a little familiar, and he showed surprise at Sharon’s intimacy, but he smiled back at her.

  ‘Bloody hell, Tony, are you sure you can handle him? He acts like he’s royalty; he scares me. You had better learn to dress and speak properly, and fast!’ Although Jake was laughing, he meant it.

  Sitting at his desk, listening intently to Jake’s ramblings about the scary butler, Tony felt satisfied. Normally, people were scared of bo
th him and Jake, and the men that worked for them. This butler was scary without using a threatening fist; just his authority was sufficient. Now, that was clever.

  Having Mr Mathers’ loyalty would indeed be a prize. There would be no question that he would keep the men’s club in good order and the members satisfied. He had interviewed Tony and Jake without them even realising he was doing it. He had heard of Tony’s reputation and so had come to assess him and assert his own authority – and he had done both.

  ‘So, Jake, let him use his skills. I always thought I dressed stylishly, but he seems to think there’s more to learn. Let’s use his experience and knowledge. More to the point, let’s use his reputation. If some of the old members think he is prepared to work for us, it’s like a seal of approval. The old members will join again, and feel safe knowing they have their old friend back.’

  ‘Well, Sharon seems to like him, I suppose that’s something. What about this Ashley guy?’

  ‘Again, Jake, he’s one of the old staff members with the butler’s approval; that will do for me.’

  As far as Tony was concerned that was the end of the subject. He could easily leave the supervision of the refurbishment and workmen under the eagle eye of Mr Mathers. If anything, he doubted Mr Mathers would want him interfering. That was fair enough; if it wasn’t broken, why fix it? The man was more than capable.

  MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

  Jake ran into Tony’s office, where Tony was at his desk, deep in conversation with the accountant. ‘That’s it,’ he said, ‘I’ve had enough.’

  Tony and the accountant both looked up at the doorway and gawped at Jake, who was red-faced, angry and swearing.

  It was early in the morning, the club wasn’t open, the only people around were the cleaners, so what could have upset Jake so much?