by Paul Charles
‘Following the falling out with Radio Cars, Peter concentrated on American releases and persuaded Half Moon Bay Express and their American record label, Picture Records, that the band’s new album – a live, in-concert set called Alive and Dreamin’ – should officially be on Camden Town Records for Europe. This would avoid all of their import/export problems, which were growing as customs paid more attention to shipments. The album sold a respectable thirty-two thousand copies and would have done better if the band had toured.
‘Around nineteen seventy-eight Peter sensed another buzz around London’s pubs and clubs and signed a new band called EP. They were his first new signing since Radio Cars, who had since disbanded due to lack of interest from Butterfly Records. Actually the name EP was Peter’s idea, as the band were called Erect Penis when Peter found them,’ said Russell somewhat quietly.
‘In quick succession, he signed three more punk bands in the wake of the success of The Clash, Buzzcocks and Sex Pistols. The other three were Rags, from Islington, a very aggressive band, always fighting with either each other or the audience or one of the support bands; Twat, a Newcastle band of three girls with a boy drummer, who had sent a tape to one of Peter’s network shops which had passed it on to Peter; and, the jewel in Peter’s punk crown, Wire Crates. Peter felt that they had a very talented guitarist and songwriter, David Cummings, who was using the punk movement to launch his own music. The punk movement exploded and Peter was selling about ten thousand albums a week across the four new bands. This time I had made sure that all the bands were signed on watertight contracts. Peter had also increased his network and was using an independent distributor, Fox, to cover the rest of the country. Fox took thirty-six pence per record.
‘Twat’s first single, “I just Wanna be Shagged” entered the singles chart in its first week at eighteen, but the BBC refused to mention them, or play the record and wouldn’t allow them on Top of The Pops. The more the media and industry ignored the single, the more it sold and within two weeks it was number two. Camden Town Records were to be denied their first number one single the following week when The Pistols entered at number one. The single sold a staggering one hundred and eighty-six thousand copies and took the group’s debut album, Twat: We All Need One to over a hundred thousand copies, giving the band and Camden Town Records their first gold album.
‘Every band in the land now wanted to sign to Camden Town Records who, along with Stiff and Chiswick, were the punk labels.
‘Wire Crates’ album sold the least of Peter’s new bands with a still respectable twenty-six thousand, but Peter felt silently confident about them. He sent a copy of their album, The Lonely Road to his friend at Picture Records in America. Picture Records loved the album and released it as soon as they could get it out. Camden Town Records had their first official release (via Picture Records) in the US of A.
‘Nineteen seventy-nine was a great year in the US alone and soon the European sales would take the final figure over a staggering two million copies.
‘Peter was now selling, across his eight UK signings an average of thirty-five thousand albums per week. They had increased the staff to eight and Peter decided the time was ripe to move to a permanent home. So he bought the garage on the corner of Gloucester Avenue and Parkway and built a trendy blue building just opposite your station,’ Russell nodded to Kennedy.
‘It turned out to be trendy quite by accident. As the site was close to the railway bridge they could not put in deep foundations. So they built a permanent temporary-type structure with light cladding,’ ann rea stated, revealing her knowledge of Camden history.
‘By the mid-eighties, Wire Crates had sold a total of twenty million across their five albums.’ Russell recited his own little bit of Camden history. ‘The Camden Records shop had peaked, thanks in part to the new supermarket-style of record shops. Peter still had a soft spot for it and still kept it on as a going concern; it always broke even, at the very least.
‘Grabaphone, one of the major record companies, decided to bolster their weak A&R department. They made Peter an offer for Camden Town Records. At first he refused to listen but after fifteen months of haggling they eventually made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Grabaphone would pay Peter O’Browne six million pounds for fifty-one per cent of Camden Town Records. Peter would have been happier to sell forty-nine per cent of his company for four million but Grabaphone pressurised Peter for the extra, and most important, two per cent.’
‘And you have been his solicitor all this time?’ Kennedy asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Did he have any financial difficulties at the time of his death?’ A police question from a policeman.
‘Good Lord, no. None whatsoever. He was what the eastenders call “sweet”, very sweet in fact. The Grabaphone buy-out gave him all the money he would need for the rest of his life, and then some.’
‘What about girlfriends?’ a newspaper question from a newspaper person.
‘Well, he was like lots of us men.’ Russell’s narrative slowed down, as he began to pick his words more carefully. ann rea felt that if she hadn’t been there, perhaps his answer might have been more Nudge, nudge; wink, wink. ‘Men like us who make ourselves a slave to success, working all the hours that God sends at the expense of our personal lives.
‘Occasionally he would meet someone, fall head-over heels in love with her and have a whirlwind romance. Then he would claim that “familiarity tarnishes beauty” and he would start to neglect them as he busied himself once more in his work. And as often happens with such men, the women grow bored sitting around waiting and clear off, or they become boring, so you clear off.’
‘Are you speaking from experience?’ ann rea raised a false smile to sweeten her question.
‘Absolutely, I’m afraid to say. You keep telling yourself that it’s just because you haven’t met the right person. But, I fear, that even if you were to meet the right person, you’d commit the same sin. Take Diana Alexander for instance…’ Kennedy’s ears picked up. ‘Peter was convinced she was it, the right person. And you know what, I sincerely think that she could have been – she was a truly delightful girl. But once the novelty of the romance wore off, he started to neglect her for his work.
‘The second he did, Diana was off like a light. No hanging around. I think he lived to regret losing her. He often told me he thought that if he couldn’t make it work with someone like Diana he couldn’t make it work with anyone. I think he gave up all thought of serious relationships after that.
‘I don’t know about women,’ Russell continued, looking at ann rea as he took a break from his food, placing his knife and fork on the plate and his clasped hands in front of him, elbows on the table, ‘but I think the older that single men become, the harder it gets to be part of a successful relationship. You start to enjoy your space, your own company and you become selfish. But worse than that, you don’t feel it’s wrong to be selfish.’
‘I would agree with that,’ said ann rea. ‘I think it is the same for a woman, maybe even harder. We have a different set of rituals we love which are no less important to us, nor do we behave any less selfishly.’
‘I suppose that makes me the romantic,’ Kennedy cut in. ‘I believe that it doesn’t matter when you meet the person you are going to fall in love with, because love waits. When you meet her you fall in love, and that’s it, all the rest falls into place. You forget all the rules you have built up to protect yourself from getting hurt. I don’t think you see abandoning selfishness as a sacrifice with someone you love; you only protect your space around people you don’t love.’
‘You could be right,’ Russell agreed.
‘What, that he is a romantic? Of course he is!’ ann rea smiled brushing the nape of Kennedy’s neck with her thumb and index finger.
‘No, no, actually about falling in love. I suppose if you are, it gives hope to someone such as myself.’
ann rea wondered, from the little she knew of Leslie Russell �
� he looked okay, was good company, courteous, incredibly well-groomed – how he could have reached that stage of his life without meeting someone special. Another on the never-shortening list of eligible bachelors. But then Kennedy, until he and ann rea had met, had been in exactly the same situation, so maybe he was right after all. ann rea certainly hoped so, because that would mean that she and Kennedy had a chance.
‘Do you know anything at all about this chart hyping and blackmailing?’ Kennedy asked, happy to move back towards safer ground.
‘Well, on the record, Kennedy, speaking as Peter’s solicitor, I’ve got to tell you I knew absolutely nothing about it. But as his friend, I did hear about it and speaking as his friend I’ll tell you anything that might help your investigation.’
‘Why did he get involved in hyping in the first place?’
‘Because they practically all do it. Because it’s possible to do it. And, at the point when Peter was involved, he was doing a deal to sell off part of his record company. He wanted as high a chart profile as possible. And besides, it works, it sells records, albeit indirectly. It’s a good investment. You pay someone fifteen grand to “market” your record and as a result you can sell hundreds of thousands of records, even millions of records, if you get it right.’
‘But hyping is illegal,’ ann rea reminded him.
‘Absolutely! I agree with you, but if you are competing in a business where it is seen not so much as illegal but more as standard practice, you are either going to have to join in to survive, or steer clear of it and see your competitors steam ahead.
‘I told him, I said: “Peter, if you stop it and you persuade all the rest of them to stop it, you are all going to be playing on a level pitch again and none of you will need to do it.” It was as simple as that. All he had to do was get everyone together and unilaterally agree to stop hyping. They would all save money and no one would risk going to jail.’
‘Logical, logical. And what did he say to that?’ ann rea inquired.
‘He told me that apparently they had tried a couple of times to do just that but what had happened was that one of the companies would have an important release one week, a release they just absolutely had to get into the charts. So they would renege on the deal, and the following week the others would notice the chart action, and say, “Well, if they are going to do it, then so are we,” and you are back to where you started.’
‘But the record companies cannot guarantee that everyone will like the record and buy it,’ said ann rea. ‘Surely there must be some role for the music to play in this corrupt process.’
‘The sad fact is that mostly it doesn’t matter. I imagine, on a guess, that ninety per cent of the population buy what is successfully marketed to them. If people are told something is good, and this fact is hammered home at them enough – on TV, in the press, on the radio, with posters – then this great nation of consumers will be happy to buy whatever it is.’
‘I just can’t believe that. No one is going to buy something they don’t like. Sorry, no way!’ ann rea was getting quite heated. She hated to think that something that she cared about as much as music could be dealt with as a commodity.
Russell smiled a warm, forgiving smile excited by ann rea’s passion, ‘Look, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry but it’s true. I’ll give you an example if you will permit me to. Each year there will be two or three mega albums that sell at least a million copies in this country alone. They are known as coffee table albums and the record companies kill to get them.’
‘Do you have proof of that, sir?’ Kennedy joked, pulling out his official notebook, pencil at the ready.
‘What? Oh yes, “kill”, very good, Detective Inspector.’ They all laughed and had some more wine.
‘Yes, coffee table albums, and that is exactly what they are, albums that are fashionable to leave lying on your coffee table with the latest Hansel photo book. Most are not played a lot, and when they are, it’s usually as background music for dinner parties and that kind of thing. These are albums by people like Brian Adams, Tina Turner, Simply Red, Phil Collins, Enya, Dire Straits. I think the names speak for themselves – they’ve got about as much to do with cutting edge as putty. But they are presented and promoted as albums you have got to have, and people do subscribe to this American marketing ploy: If you associate yourselves with hip and cool things, then you are hip and cool.’
‘Well, interesting. I’m not sure I agree with you on Dire Straits, though, I still love their first record, still play it. But more to the point, how did Peter find the hypers in the first place?’ asked Kennedy. ann rea was so disgusted by this stage that she had stopped eating her food and was sitting back in her chair quietly fuming.
‘Don’t forget that Peter got to see the other side of it when he ran his record shop. He would already have met several of them and I think it was a Camden chap who put Peter in touch with Hughie Guttridge, the man behind one of the nationwide teams.’
‘Do you know who the Camden Chap is?’ ann rea asked. Kennedy imagined his name and likeness splashed all over the front page of the Camden New Journal as ann rea sought revenge on the music wreckers with a major exposé.
‘As a matter of fact I do. He’s a chap called Barney Noble, a bit of a wheeler-dealer. He dabbles in everything. He’s been busted for drugs a couple of times, which is how I know of him. One of the partners in my firm represents him. I can get you his address – off the record of course.’
‘Thanks a million; that would be helpful.’ Kennedy was beginning to feel this unconventional interview was justified. ‘Do you think there’s a chance this chap could be tied up in the blackmail?’
‘What? Do you think Peter was murdered as a result of the blackmail going wrong?’
‘It’s too early to rule out any possibilities.’
‘Oh. Well, in that case, I was at my parents’ house in Oxford for the weekend. I left straight from the office and arrived there in time for tea at seven o’clock. You can check it out,’ Russell smiled. He made this statement not as someone trying to defend himself, but someone who wished to head off at the pass any danger of his being considered as suspect.
He took his wallet from his back trouser pocket and opened it to reveal a small notepad on the left-hand side. He wrote down his father’s name and address, briskly tore the page from the pad, handed it to Kennedy, refolded his wallet and replaced it in this pocket, all in as much time as it would take one of the hypers to buy a single.
Kennedy thanked Russell for the info and placed the folded page in the middle of his notebook.
‘Did Peter ever talk to you about the blackmailing?’ ann rea inquired, suspecting that she knew the answer.
‘Why yes, of course. And he paid up – against my advice, I might add. I felt that he might be leaving himself open to further blackmailing.’ Russell returned to his plate to finish the last morsels of his meal. ann rea had noticed that he ate part of his meat, then part of his potatoes, then part of the vegetables, never mixing mouthfuls the way she did.
‘How much was it?’ Kennedy inquired.
‘Not big league. I think it was a couple of grand. Again, Peter thought it was money well spent. At that point he was well-advanced with the Grabaphone deal and adverse publicity could have scared them off.’
‘Even though they were probably doing exactly the same thing as Peter by hyping their own records,’ ann rea stated in disgust.
‘Undoubtedly, and to a much greater degree than Peter was. But it’s the old double standards thing isn’t it?’
The second bottle of wine had bitten the dust and nobody volunteered to order another. Kennedy was not disappointed. Both he and ann rea were merry enough to enjoy some ADA (after dinner activity) and more alcohol may have cooled the spirits.
Instead ann rea and Russell ordered coffee, and Kennedy (surprise, surprise) ordered tea, over which he inquired about Martyn Farrelly, Tom Best and Carter-Houston, and Russell inquired about the bill. Leslie Russell received
the bill (despite protests from ann rea and Kennedy). Kennedy did not receive any additional information on his current list of suspects. But he had two more leads: Barney Noble and Diana Alexander.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I could have been a sign post
I could have been a clock
- Nick Drake
The following day (Friday) moved fast, very fast, towards an unsatisfactory conclusion.
It started for Kennedy with an 8.00 a.m. visit to the scene of the crime. Kennedy was not exactly sure what he was looking for. Well, in a way he did know what he was looking for: he was looking for clues. But what clues in particular, he had no idea. He just wanted to walk around the scene, as he often did on a murder investigation, and soak up his surroundings.
This usually helped him to work out how the murder hadn’t happened, rather than how it had. The SoC was taped off and a police constable, a rookie called Tony Essex, was guarding the front door of the studio. Kennedy found it easy to remember his name because he shared it with two members of the string quartet featured on the most covered song of all time: Paul McCartney’s ‘Yesterday’.
The PC unlocked the studio door and showed Kennedy inside, turning on the lights to expel the darkness from the window-free room. Kennedy paced the distance from the door to the chalk marks that sketched out the spot where Peter O’Browne’s body had lain. Five generous steps were sufficient to cover the distance.
The beam from which Peter had been hanged was a further three paces into the building. They had been able to locate the exact beam from the rope hairs found on it. More had been discovered on the floor.