Old rope
Jeffrey Bernard
The Pornbrokers Martin Tomkinson (Virgin Books £1.95)
Ever since this book was published a few L/ weeks ago the joke in Soho has been that the author is now in more danger of be- ing shot in the kneecaps by the police than he is by any of the professional porn- ographers. And the police do come out of this story of sheer greed and corruption stinking to high heaven. But if Martin Tomkinson does get shot — and he's quite a large target — I shall have to advise 'Urn that it was all his own fault on account of him being the prober par excellence. He could give lessons in Fleet Street on how to dig deep. I have seen him on occasions when he was preparing this book asking questions of men who would skin you alive for making like enquiries. I must also say that the fact that Tomkinson is a friend and ex-Private Eye colleague does not alter the fact that The Pornbrokers is a first rate piece of reportage. What does make a little difference to this reviewer is the fact that I worked in a dirty bookshop in St Anne's Court for a while in the 1950's and knew the men who launched Soho into its sad decline. I can vouch for this book. My only niggle is that Tomkinson hasn't given Lord Wolfenden a broadside having rightly raked the Obscene Publications Squad and other West End policemen from stem to stern. It's my firm conviction that the Rise of the Soho Sex Barons — Tomkinson's sub-title
— would never have got off the ground in such mercurial fashion if Wolfenden's report hadn't removed the prostitutes from the streets. (What must those who were too squeamish to behold a few fairly attractive girls lounging in Old Compton Street think now of their shop, club and cinema replacements?) In the early stages of what was to become the bookshop boom the police were quick to see the financial potential. By the mid 1950's the pioneers of porn, men like John Hawkesford and John Mason, were paying £100 per shop per week to the Obscene Publications Squad and others to protect themselves from being raided. As time went by the greed of all parties escalated to obscene proportions and greed was even- tually to be their downfall. But, just what is a downfall? Take the case of the extraor- dinary John Mason who only two months ago sent me a personal invitation to visit him in Spain.
`In his evidence at the trial of the corrupt "Dirty Squad" police officers, Mason was to claim that he had systematically bribed a total of 148 policemen from 1953 onwards. Before fleeing to his second home in Sitges in Spain, Mason testified that he had paid officers of the Obscene Publications Squad for over 20 years and that by 1970 he was Paying a licence-to-operate fee of £1,000 a Month in addition to other payments. Those bribed by Mason ranged from con- stables to commanders and on one occasion Mason paid Detective Chief Superintendent Bill Moody £14,000 to help to get one of his managers, George Vinn, off a particularly embarrassing charge'.
Over the years Mason made a personal fortune of several million pounds and he hasn't paid a single penny of income tax to this day. But, as I say, greed is the vein which runs through this story and I suppose Mason is paying for his share by being stuck abroad for the rest of his life. A lavish host with the drinks in the Swiss Tavern in Old Compton Street — the old meeting place for police and villains — he was incredibly Mean too. I remember he had a poacher's Pocket in his raincoat and he would steal roller towels and lavatory paper from pubs. He also once emptied a large bag of nuts and raisins into the poacher's pocket in a supermarket. This is trivial I know but the facts and the nitty gritty are all here.
And where are they now? Tomkinson's last chapter is headed 'Dramatis Personae' and I give you a sample.
`Raymond, Paul. Founder of Raymond's Revue Bar and owner of much property in Soho; leases one shop out at f4,000 a Week.' (My italics.)
`Moody, Bill. Probably the greediest and Most corrupt of the "Dirty Squad"; sentenced to eight years in prison in 1977'. (Would you believe it, he's now working as a security officer!) `Sullivan, David. Most successful of the Younger breed of porn men; worth £5m Plus; currently serving nine months for liv- ing off immoral earnings'. Here's some hair-raising stuff and I shall have to think twice before asking a policeman the time in future.
Tomkinson could have called his book `Money For Old Rope', but The Porn- brokers is an excellent title and an excellent book too.
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