Read Online London Blues by Anthony Frewin - Free Book Online Page A

down himself with a sly glance to the door, leant forward, looked around once more, and said in a barely audible whisper, ‘The … blue … film … racket.’ Nothing more. That was it. The statement hung there in the air. I didn’t know what to say. The blue film racket what ? He didn’t say anything further, he was looking about again. What was I supposed to say, Yes, please!? The blue film racket? I began to think I was being thick. There was something I should say in response but I didn’t know what it was. He’s just staring at me. Is my name going to be put in the frame as a Mr Big to protect someone else or what? I was waiting for him to start talking like one of his detective friends: ‘It’s all right, son. We’ve got you bang to rights. You can tell me everything. Be helpful to me and I’ll play fair with you.’ All detectives talk like this because that’s how they talk in Desmond’s books, and I’ve read two of them, Robbery on My Patch and Villainy on My Doorstep. But hold on, Desmond is about to say something.
    ‘It’s worth a fiver.’
    ‘A fiver? What’s worth a fiver?’
    ‘The story. The whole story. The whole inside story … the fearless truth.’
    Fearless truth!!?? This guy thinks like he writes, no less.
    ‘Desmond, I haven’t got any fearless truth. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    A long silence. The face of the Crown Prince of Crime Reporting drops like a schoolboy who’s just had a bar of chocolate confiscated.
    ‘You don’t know about the blue film rackets then?’
    ‘I don’t know anything about them.’
    ‘I just thought you might. Nobody else about today. I’ve got a problem.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘A very quiet week. We need a feature for page two. The editor says we have to do a major exposé of the blue film racket about every six months and tomorrow is as good a Sunday as ever, and it’s been a lean week … and I’m a bit burnt out, old boy, to tell you the truth.’
    Desmond’s problems are also his listener’s problems. It is a childlike egocentric world he inhabits. He’s irritating me no end now.
    ‘You’ve written these stories before, you know what to write.’
    ‘I need something fresh. I’m stymied.’
    ‘OK then. How’s this? For the first time ever blue films are being organised, promoted, in a big way in this country. It’s a slick operation. They are all professionals. And, what’s more, they are regularly making films over here now and not relying on old foreign films made in the 1920s.’
    ‘Yes. A slick operation!’
    ‘High profits. A wave sweeping the country.’
    ‘A wave sweeping the country!’
    ‘The police know who the Mr Big is but he’s surrounded himself with expensive lawyers. The police are patiently waiting for him to make a slip.’
    ‘Patient crime-busters. A slip. I want lots more plausible detail, Tim.’
    Well, I gave it to him and the following appeared, featured over two pages under his byline, the next day. A fitting counterpoint to the greasy bacon and burnt toast on the nation’s breakfast tables.
    I GET THE PASSWORD TO
THE SECRET WORLD OF BLUE FILM FILTH
     
    From the murky back alleys of Soho to a more fashionable and smart area of central London I have followed the trail of the ‘blue’ film traffic. There are no shady advertisements , no ex-directory telephone numbers. The only ‘ passport ’ is a personal introduction.
    Even in the basement clubs of Soho the subject is taboo.
    This ‘blue’ film traffic is a subject for concern.
    This is what Lord Kilmuir, the Lord Chancellor, said about it in the House of Lords during the second reading of the Obscene Publications Bill:
    ‘We must face it that grossly obscene films in houses or the rooms of clubs are one of the evils of life. There have always been places which try to attract people to shows of this kind. I think they ought to be struck at.’
    Lord Denning said films exhibiting obscenity could be smuggled in from another country and