‘Sometimes. I was running another club. He invited me as a courtesy. I’d return the favour.’
‘Did you have parties?’
‘Not me. I didn’t have that sort of money, but we swapped girls at the clubs. If one of them was off ill or absent or overdosed, we’d send one of ours over.’
‘The parties at Aberman’s house when his wife was there, what were they like?’
‘The later parties were better.’
‘Regardless, what were they like?’
‘Plenty of alcohol, plenty of women.’
‘Did his wife take part?’
‘Not that I saw. Mind you, I was always busy.’
Yet again, Isaac realised that the ex-Mrs Aberman was somehow involved. She had always given the impression of non-involvement in her husband’s business affairs, yet she attended the parties, even turned a blind eye to the shenanigans.
‘Aberman used to throw a lot of money around. These parties couldn’t have been cheap.’
‘That was Aberman. He always liked to put on a show. I never understood how he did it, but I was glad of the invite.’
‘You went to every one?’
‘Not all of them. We weren’t that friendly, it was just business.’
‘Gerald Adamant, what can you tell me about him?’
‘Not much, apart from him marrying Helen. After she left here, nobody heard from her for a few months, and then, all of a sudden, she’s being squired around the town on Adamant’s arm. The first time Daisy saw her picture in a newspaper, she was in here showing me.’
‘Daisy, was she surprised?’
‘Daisy and Helen, they’d been sort of friends in the club, although, with Helen, you never knew if she was a friend or whether it was something else.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not sure how to explain it. She came to the club, got up on the stage, and she was a great performer. She knew how to excite the men, and then she’d finish for the night, get dressed in regular clothes and walk out of the door.’
‘What else?’
‘Before she moved in with Aberman on a semi-permanent basis, no one knew where she went after she left the club.’
‘You know a lot about this woman,’ Isaac said.
‘Not me, but there she is with Adamant, and then she marries the man. There was plenty of gossip about her. Most of the girls here on that pole, they’re looking for the knight in shining armour, ready to take them away from all this and into a life of luxury, the loving husband, the house in the country. Normal childhood dreams, but with them, they carried on into adulthood. It’s the life they lead, I suppose.’
‘Do you want out?’
‘A regular job, plenty of money? Of course I do. What do you think I’m doing here, living on the edge, wondering when the next gangster is coming to knock on the door, to tell me my number’s up?’
‘Is that likely?’
‘Who knows. We’re strictly legal here, but our protection comes at a cost.’
‘Who owns this club? It’s never been explained.’
‘As I’ve told you before, a consortium of businessmen.’
‘But you must have met them?’
‘Not me. I’ve met the man who put me in this job, but apart from that, I haven’t, and that’s the truth.’
‘I’m interested in Gerald Adamant. How did he come to know Helen?’
‘I’m not sure. Some of the women said he used to come into the club.’
‘Gus?’
‘He said he did, but I wouldn’t place too much credence on him.’
‘Why?’
‘Gus only sees the people of a night time when it’s dark.’
‘I need to meet this consortium,’ Isaac said.
‘They’ll not talk to you, even if you can find them.’
‘Why?’
‘They’re secretive.’
‘Why are they secretive? You’re legal.’
‘Social stigma. Businessmen are after a good return on their money, and these clubs can be money in the bank, only it doesn’t look good on their financial returns. It won’t help their reputations, their being involved in strip clubs, prostitution, drug dealing.’
‘You said there was no prostitution or drugs here.’
‘There isn’t, but people always associate these places with crime and sin.’
‘How do you see it?’
‘A night out with the boys, a chance to get drunk, to have a laugh and a look at the women. We’re entertainment for the grown-ups.’
***
Back at Challis Street Police Station, Isaac called the team into his office. Chief Superintendent Goddard came as well, although he did not stay long. He gave the obligatory words of encouragement and left hurriedly, another meeting, another chance to press the flesh.
‘Wendy, anything more?’ Isaac said. He was sitting upright, his arms resting on his desk.
‘I’m not sure I understand Ben Aberman’s widow. Before, at her house in Chelsea, she was pleasant. Now, out at Bray, there’s a hardness in her. She’s fallen out with the next-door neighbour, accused her of prying.’
‘Was she?’
‘Probably.’
‘You think the ex-Mrs Aberman is hiding something.’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Bridget, what do we have on her?’
‘Christine Aberman, married to Ben for fifteen years, no children. Originally trained as a nurse, although she’s not worked for the last twenty years. She’s from London, the same area as Aberman. She divorced Aberman, moved in with William Ecclestone, a bank manager, although she still uses Aberman as her surname. The house in Chelsea is beyond a bank manager’s salary.’
‘It was part of the divorce settlement, according to her,’ Wendy said.
‘It was. I have a copy of it, as well as the division of the assets,’ Bridget said. ‘There was no money owing on the house.’
‘Could he have made this amount of money with Dixey’s and two other clubs?’ Larry said.
‘His tax returns indicate he could not, although I assume there’s a lot of black money.’
‘Would he be subject to a tax audit?’ Wendy said.
‘Unlikely,’ Isaac said. ‘He’d use smart accountants to head them off, and his records would
