Jack knew all this; he had already done his research, and he had been looking forward to taking this Greek ponce down a few pegs. He had a natural bent for this type of work. He researched his marks without being told to, and he had known instinctively that they were not getting their due from this one. His cousins had both stood back and let him run the show, recognising his talent for the job. But this place was not like the pubs or the cab ranks he usually dealt with – this was a different ball game altogether. Jack liked the idea of an all-day drinking club, a place to hang out, where girls were in abundance, and where he was not liable to be treated like a kid. He saw the potential here.

Jack was a ladies’ man – he had a permanent erection and he preferred faceless sex. The girls who worked here were on an earn, so they would not be too fussy. At twenty-one he was shrewd enough to know that, if he played his cards right, the possibilities were endless.

‘Please, boys, I can pay. I promise you.’

Jack smiled at his cousins; they were not yet au fait with his way of working, but they soon would be. He would see to that.

As he walked into the club, Jack could smell the cheap perfume, the stink of old lager and could see the stains on carpets that only looked good late at night. He saw the interest on the girls’ faces, and he responded to them instinctively, drinking in their fake smiles and their fake cleavages. This was shag central to him; this was what he had been dreaming of for years. Jack Bailey felt like he had finally come home.

His two cousins were impressed with his confidence; if they followed his lead their lives would be enriched in more ways than they had ever imagined. Jack Bailey was born to spread it about; this job made it all the easier for him to do that, and he embraced it with every bit of energy he possessed. He grinned at his cousins and, winking, he said pleasantly, ‘Noel, Jamsie, follow the man, and count the money. I have to acquaint myself with the premises, and the females within it, as I am sure you both understand.’

As he sat down with the girls, and saw them smiling at him as if he was a male model or a movie star, he knew his father had inadvertently given him the world on a plate and for that alone he would always be thankful.

‘All right, girls? So what’re your names, then?’

The girls, for their part, knew a mug when they saw one, and this mug was obviously someone of note. They gave him their best smiles, and invited him into their group without a second’s thought. This was, after all, a hostess club.

Chapter Fifty-Three