A DECOY IN A GAMBLING DEN

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 49, 27 February 1937, Page 6 (Supplement)

A DECOY IN A GAMBLING DEN

The Indian Cavalry Officer—And Cupid I BECAME HOSTESS IX A WEST END "CLUB."

(By MARGARET GRANT—Copyright.) (NO 3.) X" 1-- - I i . . _ ... . - -

I : r aiiotacr attempt w—. l>ame Fortune. On this particular evening the ••ub was fairly quiet, and the alcove ' iir. - II ply. M' .••.!!. pa ni"i: • an.,- quickly the i" '"• "I have U-en watching you for tne pas: iifrK or -o." he commenced. "I ; y-i;r and 1 like \ollr «-tvle. , Wha: about joining u-:" "Ls- pro-, s. ' ■ . be a smail group of running a gambling house in the We-- hnd. which catered for some of j ' .:e ' •>-: in the land. i "I want you to act a~ in onr ! !ate.-t rendezvous." he continued. "It's | a l..vely place and we 'nave just opened i it. You will have your clothes provided :'"r you. a salary of fin a week and a : convenient fiat. You'll have to 'deliver . the wi know- but 1 think you will be abb- t.. manage it. What about jit?" 1 Ten pound- a vcek! And -lollies fo! It was an offer tha : 1 had never even •dared to dream about. But nmre than | that, it would give me an opportunity i to forjiet Johnny—anions new faces and { new surroundings. I knew that with i decent clothes I could rake the people j in. «o I jumped at the chance. j So it came about that I took up my ! abode in a new district, just off Belgrave Square, in a Hat on the same premises as the club. Theatrical '"Victims." The latter was a large private house that had been converted into a most extensive gambling club, with five or six huge beautifully decorated rooms for roulette, poker, chemin de fer, and l»oule. As I have always found, roulette was the most popular among the clients, though a large number would plav chemin de fer or poker. My job was much as before, to introduce new members and to stroll about the rooms, chatting with people and seeing that they were t>eing well looked after by the waiters. I also had to join the gamblers at the tables on occasions when things were going a bit flat, or the stakes placed were not high enough to bring in a quick enough return. My method of collecting '"pigeons" was changed. My main source of "victims" was in theatrical circles, and I was provided with invitations and tickets galore to theatres, show suppers, cabarets, in fact everywhere where I should be likely to meet well-to-do artists. I was also provided with expensive afternoon and evening dresses—clothes which would enable me to pass off as a rich young society girl. Only the most affluent of the stage folk were wanted, for my "den" (if you could call it such) was one of the most ! exclusive in London. It had a huge t "membership" of actresses, society people, diplomats. M.P.'e, stockbrokers, personalities of all sorts. Last £3000 at One Sitting. With these I mixed as one of themselves. Even my '•'victims" regarded me as a friend. There was none of those accusing looks that I used to get at Charlie's. The people I brought in were grateful for "introductions" to such an [ exclusive and pleasant club—they had money to burn most of them, and did , not resent losing some, of it. It was at this club that I saw a , well-known actress lose £3000 at one ' sitting-—and then take off her jewellery ' to the value of at least another £2000 i and lose it in the same way. ( She was Miss T —famous in West End musical comedy shows and married to a rich city stockbroker. Every night she would come to the tables after her show ! was over and play until davtn. Gambling was right in lier blood, and despite terrific losses, she would always insist on playing on, giving her husbands bank account as credit when her own was depleted—as all too often it was. In the end she completely ruined her , husband and he left her—going abroad 1 to esoape the publicity he feared would 1 follow his being "hammered" in the city. I shall never forget the night I saw ■ Miss T. get rid of her £3flofl and her I jewellery. 1 She had oome round rather later than I usual—by herself, and we could see » that she was in an agitated frame of » mind. I learned afterwards that she had had a colossal row with her hushand. who had there and then walked ' out of the house, and left her. He never ■ ! returned. '! Mi«s T.. on the other hand, had come i round to the club in a desperate attempt j to retrieve some of the losses she had incurred. The Great Gamble Began. Somehow she had collected £3.">00 and i brought it with her in notes, while I j noticed that she was dressed in an unusually expensive fashion. with ! glorious diamond earrings, and a most j magnificent pearl necklace. She started at chemin-de-fer. playing j with chips of £i»0 and £100 value. At ■(first her luck was in: she raked in i about £400. Then fortune deserted her Quickly the los-es mounted up till she ' was about £500 down. I I was standing behind her when she suddenly sprang up from the table and ' grabbed im her handbag containing her , money. Muttering. "I'll get it hack somehow." she rushed into the roulette 1 room. i 1 Then the great gamble began. She i j started with "pairs," putting on the , | maximum each time—a matter of £20 ;:n that club. Her luck was out. She increased her stakes and went en plein j with maximums of £.V) and £100. Once j or twice she won. but the occasions were . 1 very rare. j She called for champagne cocktails. . ; gul;>ed them ('own. and plunged wildly ;j on chevaux. Time after time she lost, j Her luck was dead out. and by 3 a.m. 1 | all her £3500 had gone. She had lost 1 : £:><MH) at one sitting at the roulette - | table. ' ! Staggered from the Room. t By now most of the rest of the club 1 had forsaken their tables and were r grouped round Miss T.. watching as in denigration she tore off her earrings. p! and. shouting. ' Take these!" threw j them on the numbers. "En carre." she h j cried in a hoar-e. strained voicc. The audience ga-ped Where would this tj frantic gamble end? W hat would hapt j |ien if she lost these jewels? Was she a 1 mad, or didn't she car* I

ON i. I i»<nl aii w itii ai girl w T i • > ■ i r ■ i !•. -I^ak poi-- tn. I had -«':i if-v a lot of money. Quickly I «I«tin- • ■tTe'i»ive thins: from her ha ml. "-he fought me like a tiger r.it —and as we fought I noticed that -he had -■ mo table:*' iirmly clenched in one hand. These. too. ; I felt certain, were j>oi&on. At la?: I wretched them from her. "You little f• 3:" 1 gasped. "What | the-" j Then she wept. Reaction -e: -a and; ehe completely broke down. She told., me ehe was a "['in money" j:irl, had! run up ail euormou- debt at a fashion- ■ abie store. ami had gambled ner la -* fe» pound.? in the iiojit of winning: enough to di-charge the debt. But the had lost ail —and dare uot teli her • peot'le. or even face them. "Go home —tell the truth—but don't | say anything about coming to this , place/" 1 advised her. I never saw her! again either, but she telephoned me a ; ■week later to say that all was well, and I to thank me for what I had done. This continual haunting the West End led me into all sort*? of contretemps, and often I wa« snubbed, so that I blushed with shame and burned with anger. But I had not the strength of will to break away from it all. I sometimes hated all men—loathed to speak to them. But I had committed myself to do this distasteful job. Then came an incident which threatened to for ever disturb my mind. I picked up a "pigeon"' one evening, a elean cut young man who had officer ■written all over him. He was an officer belonging to an Indian cavalry regiment—and after two or three meetings he began to make love to me. Here was, perhaps, a chance to realise any /chiefest ambition —love—marriage— perhaps children —a home—oh, everything a true girl sets her heart on. But—l was a decoy in a gambling den. What would this man say if he knew that? Too Good To Last. Johnny, as I will call the young Indian calalrv officer, soon became a regular habitue of the club. I don't think he came to gamble, nor because he liked that kind of place. He was not by any means strait-laced, and loved a little flutter, but he had his head screwed on too well to allow himself to be dragged into the maefetrom of a gambling den. He would play a little —with modest stakes—and have a few drinks, but when I could get away at intervals from my duties as hostess he would prefer to chat to-me. We soon became fast friends, and often when I was free he would take me off in his car; —a glorious sports model —down the river to the coast. Friendship soon ripened into love. I told him my story —but even the most sordid details seemed to make no difference. There was no mistake about it, Johnny and I had "fallen*' pretty badly. But it was too goad to last. He was due to return to India in the late autumn, and both of us were dreading the parting. Then the blow fell. One evening at the club he asked me to marry him. "Oh! Margaret, why don't you chuck up this beastly life and come with me," lie begged. "I've got a good job. as army jobs go, and shall get steady promotion. I shall not be in India all my life —just a matter of three more years. Then we can come back to England. You know I love you. Do chuck it and marry me." "The Thought Appalled Me." Desperately I tried to make up my Znind. I loved Johnny, of that I was sure. I would have given anything to get away from the horrible life I was living—to have a home, babies, and to "be able to mix w-ith respectable people. Respectable people! That was the trouble. How could I face the social routine that is the lot of an Indian officer? How could I hope to be accepted "by hi® friends, his rich relatione—l who lad not a relation in the world, no parents, and no friends but crooks? The thought of the wedding appalled ■me. It would have to be a splash affair at some London church—probably St. George's—and while Johnny would be supported by folk from the best families in the land I would have no one I dare introduce to them. Xo one who could «ven give the bride away. It was impossible. I realised that. Frantically I played for time. '"Please <ion't make me answer now." I begged. ■"Give me a few dare to think it over. I—l—am not quite sure of mvself." I lied. I knew it was no use. of course. And ■when later he pressed me for a final answer I had to tell him a worse lie "than ever. Though I loved liim dearly, and I knew he felt the same way about me. T had to pretend that —well. T did not !«ve him quite a* much as I had thought. ami so the affair would have "to end. Of course there was a terrible scene, but I managed to stick fo my guns, though my heart was breaking. Johnny went away—and though he said he "understood T know he felt he had been "badly let down—that I was no better thin heajts of other girls who plav up to a man's feeling- for the 200,1 time they can set out of them. New Faces and Surroundings. How I kej>i going at the club after "that I cannot think. Johnny was always in my mind, and I know my face reflected the 1 was going through. I was offered a holiday, but dare not take it. Work. 1 knew, would be the onlv hope ■for my sanity. But. oh. how I longed to get away from that hateful place— now a thousand times more detestable because of its associations with Johnny. About a fortnight after 1 had sent Johnny away a man whom 1 had seen playing and drinking in the club for about a wA-k came up to me. "I want to have a chat with you." he «aid. "Come over here into this" alcove." I followed him into the space which kept as a sort of "recuperating"' *°r»'" Gamblers would often lisp it between spells to have a few quiet 4kiaks before going back to the tables

■. i.v iieci u.i- -pun. i; slowed down. Kion lie \a plu-."' called the croupier, l'he wheel >top;>ed. the balrested on 2r!. The earring- had none. Someone tried to -top he- going further. but -he -hook off the restraining hand. "I've got t" get them back." she screamed, wrenching oft' her necklace. "These worth -he .-aid. "Will y.iii take them?" The croupier nodded, t hip- were handed to hei. IVwn tliev wen . and the wheel licyan to spin again. Once again -he lost. Three more throw- .-he had before her chips were exhausted. Then, when the I la>t turn of th • w heei had l»een made, s'ne rose, white as a ghost. and staggered from the room. I followed quickly, fearing a tragedy, but she grabbed a stiff whisky from the bar. got her wrap from the cloak room and left the club. The Fatal Lure. I heard afterwards that that night had l>een the last of her show, and that -he had determined to -take all in a de-perate attempt to pay off her debts. She was never heard of in Londou again.; though I believe she managed to get a ; lew .-mall jiarts ;n touring companies. ! Such is the price of gambling. Home j c-t. liu-band ruined and gone, beggared' and for-akeu by her friends, reputation 1 and livelihood completely destroyed.! And yet j>eople w ill go on. Thousand-j every day lose millions among them.l nie-merised by the spinning wheel and I dancing ball. And I was helping them to do it.! \\ hat a lite I had gone into! And vetj what else could I do now: I dare "not 1 ii-k going out into the ordinary world. 1 clean and fre-li though it be. 1 had! chosen my bed—now 1 must lie 011 it. i Hut jewellery was often pledged at; n, e wig rave Square club when gambler; ran o„ t of ready ca-h o, cheques. Then! a.l M.rt- of tilings would be -taked ! even houses and boat-. More than once j I have seen portions of the estates of j lamous people chipped off bv that re- ' voicing wheel, and on one ".H-ca.-ion a complete -team yacht was lost. j ( i o be continued.)