H When Hell Is the Favourable Option......

by David C Jaundrell

  Secure Security was doing extremely well and he thought a subsidiary in the Middle East had vast potential.

  And then there was the other project….but Terry, the banker, hadn't come up with the money. That was still a line he had to pursue.

  It was only twenty five mil for Christ's sake

  H Chapter 70

  Leave the girls to it…?

  Two weeks before the wedding which Benshima had arranged in a tiny Roman Catholic Church in a small village to the west of London, Senor and Senorita Reyes arrived from Colombia to spend some time in the Capital before the festivities. Although invited to stay at H's apartment they had booked themselves into the Savoy Hotel on The Strand.

  ‘The Savoy Jose’?’ James had queried

  ‘Any Hotel who has employed both Cesar Ritz and Auguste Ascoffier is doing something right don't you think? Perhaps I should also add’ he said with a mischievous smile ‘we own a few shares in the Holding Company….which allows us a generous discount’.

  A week before the wedding they were having lunch and Benshima suggested they all go to the National Gallery which ‘housed one of the most important assemblages of European Art in the world’. Much as James was loathe to miss this incredible event he said ’Would love to but I've arranged to go and see a friend in a nursing home, but perhaps we could meet up later for dinner?’

  ‘Would you mind’ said Senor Reyes ‘if I joined you James? The women are wearing me out and an excursion would be good’.

  ‘Of course’ said H smiling as he knew just how the Senor felt.

  The Mercedes 600 SL headed out to the private Arbrook Nursing Home in Esher where H's friend was looked after. On the way Senor Reyes asked ‘Where do you go from here James? In relation to business….? Indeed do you want to go anywhere?’

  James sighed ‘It's been occupying my mind a lot lately and my first inclinations were to open another two or three clubs and take Secure Security over to the Middle East. But, you obviously don't know this, but Ernest…where we've going….the man that's ill……Ernest had a large Group of businesses that have come up for sale. He's got loads of stuff… car dealerships etc but what he's also got that interests me is a chain of betting shops, a casino and an internet poker operation.

  Now I don't actually know too much about Casino's other than losing money in them but I have spent a lot of time getting what information I need. Also, as you may remember I started my life in betting shops and so I know a bit about them…..’

  Senor Reyes listened

  ‘Now time has moved on in that industry and I am years behind in relation to technology etcetera but the underlying theme is the same…..make sure the odds are in your favour. Plus the fact these are already up and running, making money and with an in-situ management and staff………..’

  ‘But….?’

  ‘The but is, I'm struggling to get the money. I thought I had a deal with my Bank but they decided against it. I can't offer enough collateral against the loan. Whilst I'm prepared to put up the clubs and Secure Security as collateral I'm not prepared to put up the apartment because if it all goes wrong Benny and I need a home….’

  James was reeling off his own thoughts, essentially to himself, and he didn't notice the concentration in Jose's face

  ‘……….The clubs and the security make about two mil a year pre tax which gives us a good living but does not allow me to borrow the twenty five mil that I need……’

  ‘How much does…….Ernest's?……Group make?’

  ‘Well….his thirty shops make about fifty grand a year each which is at the low end of shops from what I can ascertain. The average is about seventy five grand a year but a good shop in a good location can do up to two hundred so there should be room to manoeuvre them up a bit. Also there are only three locations where they have Fixed Odds Betting Terminals and I am not sure why?’

  Jose looked at him, puzzled.

  FOBT's, explained H, were essentially slot machines but different. They offered betting opportunities on roulette, horse racing, cards……. Serious gambling but against the machine and fixed odds.

  ‘And they're only allowed in betting shops, nowhere else…..’

  From the enquiries James had made from his gambling friends the roulette was most popular and he found out that in some betting shops the FOTB machines were the most profitable things in the place, far outstripping the over the counter trade. Jose nodded his understanding throughout the discourse. James had forgotten that in Bogotá alone there were seven casinos and that Senor Reyes may have actually had a minor knowledge of the subject…

  ‘The big boys’ James continued ‘would pay about seven times the profit so that's about three fifty each times thirty….say about ten to eleven million for the shops.’

  Senor Reyes nodded.

  ‘The casino is different and I've done a lot of digging about casino pricing……’

  H Chapter 71

  Cleggy

  …………H had rung Ade, an old friend of many years who ran a Casino in the West Midlands. H knew that Ade would give him absolutely no business information as Ade was one of those peculiar characters – honest. Ade would no more give sensitive information about his employers business than rat on his mother, but Ade would point him in the right direction…

  ‘Ring Cleggy’ said Ade ‘he can help you. He used to work for Stanley and did a lot on the casino side and if anyone can help you price the deal it's him….. And another thing, he's retired now so don't expect to get the information for nothing. Cleggy's a hard bastard!’

  ‘Thanks Ade, appreciate it. Tell me Ade if I buy this place you going to run it for me?’

  Ade thought for a moment ‘Excuse me asking H but are you thinking of this as a business or as the ……front…to something else?’

  ‘As a business Ade. Stand alone, cost and profit centre business’

  ‘Then I would certainly talk H yes’

  ‘Good. Be in touch’

  ‘Is that Cleggy Jenkins?’

  ‘It could be’ said the voice on the other end of the phone ‘who's asking?’

  H explained who he was and that he had been given the number by Ade and what he needed. ‘Can you help me?’

  ‘It'll cost’

  ‘What will it cost?’

  ‘A grand’

  ‘No thanks, I'll find someone else. Appreciate your time. Take care…..’ H paused long enough before he disconnected.

  ‘Hang on, hang on we can sort something out’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘How about a monkey and a case of good wine?’

  ‘I can do that. But the monkey stays in my pocket and the wine in the boot until I know you can give me what I want. Ok?’

  ‘Ok’

  ‘White or red?’

  ‘Red’

  Cleggy was in his mid sixties and looked good for his age. He had obviously been an active person in his life and it showed. H wondered how the hell he had done that while he was in the gaming industry, what with the long days and longer nights? Cleggy sat him in the lounge and made coffee. ‘So you want to buy a casino?’

  ‘Yep’

  ‘And if I give you a rough price and how we got to it I get the monkey and the wine?’

  ‘Yep’

  ‘Ok’

  ‘As it happens there is one for sale in Birmingham at the moment for about eight million but it's been on the market over two years and so I think we can assume it's bit pricy. More than likely nearer six and a half would be my bet’

  ‘How much do you think it makes pre tax?’

  ‘Don't know but at a guess between say……. eight hundred and one point one…..something like that’

  He looked quizzically at H ‘What do you know about Casinos?’

  ‘They seem to be good at taking money….? I suppose I don't go often enough to get a feel for the business. I think the last time I was in one was about….’ he thought for a moment ‘maybe six months ago,,,,,,,,’

  …�
��….In fact it was eight months earlier and H remembered the night. He had got into a poker game and limped in with Aces, catching one of the players off guard who had Kings and had gone all in, thinking his hand was good. It had cleaned him out; the buy-ins had passed so he was gone….. He glared at H and hissed ‘Cunt’ as he left the table.

  When H left later in the evening he was getting into his car when he heard a thump on the passengers side and saw the Player from earlier in the evening had kicked the door of the Merc. H got back out of the car.

  ‘Scratched your door cunt’ said Player ‘what ya gonna do?’

  In the bright overhead lights of the car park H appraised his assailant. About five eight, heavy build, solid, flattish nose, cauliflower ears. Maybe a rugby player but more than likely an ex boxer.

  ‘I don't want any trouble’

  ‘You limped in……made me look a cunt’

  ‘I'm new at the game, I didn't know’

  ‘Give me my money back’

  ‘You lost it in the game; I didn't steal it off you’

  ‘Give it me back or pay the price’

  ‘I don't want any trouble so I'm going’

  H watched him walk quickly round to H's side. Definitely a boxer…..good. More than likely a light heavy in his younger days but now he was bigger but still in good shape.

  ‘You're going nowhere until I get my money and more for making me look a cunt’’

  H stepped back a pace and instantly held up both his palms near his upper chest and facing player. Player instinctively threw a punch at one of the palms. Years of training thought H years of training. The punch wasn't designed to hurt, just hit the hand. An automatic old training routine; a demonstration of expertise. The instant it did H held it with the other and twisted it sharply outwards whilst at the same time pushing the wrist under and upwards. Player screamed at the excruciating pain. To avoid the pain and the inevitable break of the arm and wrist if H went farther he was tottering on one leg and raised on his toes. Agony was contorting his face.

  ‘You kicked my car’ said H ‘You're gonna have to pay for that. What say we call it five thou?’

  ‘Fuck off’ and then screamed as the wrist broke.

  ‘I haven't got that….I haven't got that…..’ His voice was changing……

  ‘How much have you got?’

  Player didn't want to say but ‘………….Three’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Inside pocket’

  ‘I am going to take it out. If you so much as move a muscle I will break your arm….and that will be the start. Understand?’

  Player did not reply. H put more pressure on Players arm and Player screamed in agony as the pain overwhelmed him.

  ‘I asked you a fucking question and I expect an answer…do ….you…understand?’

  ‘Yes’ he replied instantly.

  H took out the wallet, flipped it open and saw the notes. Looked about right.

  ‘You got a car here?’ asked H applying more pressure.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes’ he screamed

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Over there’

  ‘Take me’

  ‘What's your name?’

  ‘Billy’

  ‘Billy what?….goat?’

  ‘Simmons’

  H thought that the name struck a chord but couldn't recall where. With Billy still on tip toe he took H to a new BMW Coupe.

  ‘Nice’ said H ‘how much? Fifty, sixty?’

  ‘Sixty five’

  ‘Mmmmmm….. Open it’

  ‘My keys are in the other pocket. I can't reach’

  H fished in his pocket, took the keys out and pressed the remote. The doors unlocked and H opened the driver's door.

  ‘Ok, let me précis this…… I take a few quid off you at cards. You don't like that and decide to get your money back by scratching my car and hurting me. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes……yes’

  ‘Mmmmm’

  H led him nearer the side of the car then grabbed his hair and smashed his face down on to the roof. The mixed sounds of denting metal, cracking teeth, breaking nose and squashed flesh made an almost musical note. H quite liked that. It appealed to his sense of the ridiculous. Air on a Merc Roof. Not quite what Bach had imagined….. but there were no Mercs around then for his imagination to work on.

  Billy was dazed and half conscious and H steered him into the car. Bright red blood dripped over white doe leather. H moved him around so that it dripped everywhere then dragged him out and took him round to the boot. He looked at the remote, saw the symbol, pressed it and watched it slowly and silently rise. Seeing the golf bag inside he pulled out a club. He noticed it was a seven iron although he had no idea what a seven iron was but it was enough that the club head looked quite vicious.

  ‘Now, you got a mobile?’

  A quiet and meek voice said ‘Yeah…in pocket’

  H fished it out and stamped on it. H had had enough. It was late and a long way home. Ah well…

  He swung Billy round fast enough that he lost his balance and as he went down he caught the side window of the car head on, smashing what was left of his face. As he slid to the ground H forced his arm up until it snapped at the shoulder. He bundled the unconscious Billy into his car then walked around it, smashing it with the seven iron. Door panels, windows, lights, wing mirrors were decimated. He fished inside the car, found the catch and opened the bonnet. The electronics and aluminium block were also destroyed. Going back into the car he propped up Billy in the seat, closed the door and went back to the Casino where he found the Manager talking to one of the doormen.

  ‘Johnny…’

  ‘H? Thought you'd gone’

  ‘Had a bit of a problem with a guy from the table. He says his names Billy.’

  The Manager and doorman took a quick look at each other. Billy? Bit of a problem with Billy? Nah…can't be our Billy. Our Billy is an ex champion boxer and can handle himself…….Billy?

  ‘You'll find him in the car park. You'll know his car when you see it’

  Johnny knew of H. He had heard the tales…but most tales were exaggerated bullshit. But if it was Billy?

  ‘I'm sorry for any trouble H’

  ‘It's ok Johnny…it's ok. These things happen’

  He turned back towards the car park then turned around again as though he had forgotten something. ‘And one more thing Johnny; would you kindly tell Billy that if he ever bothers me again I'll kill him’

  It was quite matter of fact because it was a matter of fact. The Managers face went white and a chill swept through his body. For some reason he had absolutely no doubt whatsoever that H would kill Billy. No doubt whatsoever. Oh fuck!

  H went back to his car and looked at the damage on the passenger's door. Peering closely he could only see the faintest of marks. Ah well…. a grand for a cut and polish and two grand for….something nice for Benshima.

  Johnny and Eric the doorman went to the car park and looked for Billy's new Beamer. What they saw was a bit of a shock

  ‘Fuckin hell!’ spluttered Eric who was not averse to a bit of carnage himself, but this…. The car was destroyed and Billy was unconscious with an arm dangling at a funny angle and his face smashed in. There was blood everywhere……

  ‘I don't get it’ said Eric ‘Billy can beat the shit out of anybody and here we have what looks like a fuckin car bombs gone off and Billy half dead’ He paused for a moment, trying to remember ‘H didn't look bothered at all…. In fact his fuckin suit wasn't even fuckin creased….fuck me’

  Johnny took a deep breath and remembered what Ade had said about H ‘A really nice guy but you must never cross him. From what I gather he doesn't do things in half measures……if you know what I mean’

  Johnny didn't. But now he did. I think Billy boy was a lucky lad thought Johnny, a very lucky lad.

  ..……….H let the memory go and looked at Cleggy……..what had he said? ……oh yes, what did he know about casinos? ‘They
seem to be good at making money…’

  ‘They are but not as good as you would think. If they win too much the punters don't come back, so the gross profit is quite low and you would expect it to be at the twenty percent level. Of which the tables are about seventeen percent and the slots about nineteen. The tables make up about eighty percent of the take so you can see the slots have a better contribution. Actually the margin on the slots per go is quite low but of course what happens is that winnings are immediately put back so although the margin is low the churn is very high.

  A provincial casino will have maybe fifty thousand customers but half will not visit in any one year. The average punter visits between nine and twelve times a year and gives a profit to the casino of about thirty pounds’

  ‘You getting all this?’

  ‘Oh yes…..Oh yes’

  ‘Ok. As to price. A provincial may be making between say……eight hundred and …..one point two million which means the cost to you is more than likely between eight and a half and thirteen million. You got that kind of money?’

  H ignored him.

  ‘Ok you can get the money but the main problem is the Gaming Board, actually the Gambling Commission now. They've moved up to the Midlands, Birmingham, whereas they used to be in London.

  Anyhow……..

  Obviously you will need a Personal Management Licence which you won't have but I assume the current Manager will have so that should be ok. But you will still have to obtain a Certificate of Consent to allow you to buy a Casino’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because gaming laws in Britain are incredibly strict and before you can buy a Casino you have to show that you are a ‘proper’ person within the meaning and the spirit of the Act. That means the money you pay for the casino is scrutinised. You have to show that every damn penny is legitimate. It's as simple as that! And….you will need to show that even though you don't know too much about casinos you have at least one expert that does………’ He held up his hands and waved them evangelically

  ‘Your Saviour has descended…..’

  H just looked at him and smiled. If he could get Ade on board he may not need Cleggy but it may be a good idea to have Cleggy. He looked at things…….differently. Unabashed Cleggy continued ‘Now assuming you can jump all those hurdles there is one bit of good news’