J.T.'s Ladies Page 2

  ‘Now,’ Miss Benkinsop said, after having passed over the intercom on the desk a request for tea and cakes to be brought in. ‘What can we do for you?’

  ‘We’ve got trouble at the Puppydog Club,’ Spender replied, taking two transparent celluloid dice—each with an insignia in the form of an attractive young dog of indeterminate breed on its ‘one’ surface —and laying them in front of the headmistress while continuing with his explanation. ‘If it isn’t bad enough having those left wingers picketing outside, these have turned up at the big stakes craps table.’

  ‘Hum, most interesting,’ Miss Benkinsop declared, showing not the slightest surprise as she picked up the dice. However, after having given them what appeared to be only a very cursory inspection considering they were the reason for the visit, she handed them to the fourth person in the room. ‘What do you make of them, Amanda?’

  The person to whom the question had been directed was a girl of perhaps eighteen. As the light blue collar of her navy blue blazer signified, she was not only a Sixth Former, but one of the Prefects and responsible for helping to maintain the School’s discipline. In spite of her youth and appearance, and for all his appreciation of the situation’s gravity, Spender did not show the surprise his companion was registering over her being consulted any more than the headmistress had when he produced the dice.

  As the only child of a brilliant scientist, albeit one in the classic ‘absented-minded professor’ mold, Amanda Tweedle did not possess the requisite family background for admission to the School. 19 However, having delivered her there in the erroneous belief that he had arrived at Roedean, her father went away and was killed whilst conducting an experiment before the mistake could be rectified. Not even Miss Benkinsop’s vast, if far from conventional, resources had been able to locate a single relation who might have assumed guardianship and responsibility. So, with her usual compassion, she had waived the usually strict conditions of entrance and allowed the little orphan to stay.

  The decision had proved remarkably beneficial all round!

  Amanda had soon acquired the sobriquet, ‘the School Swot’, by virtue of her extraordinary ability to absorb all kind of knowledge and through a rigid attendance to her studies. Not that she looked anything like the way in which tradition suggested the bearer of such a nickname should be. Convention expected a person imbued with such proclivities to be tall, lanky, plain of features, possibly pimpled, peering owlishly through thick-lensed spectacles and with shoulders rounded by long hours spent poring over books.

  Surrounded by a halo of perfectly coiffured blonde hair, Amanda’s exceptionally beautiful face bore an expression of demure, almost elfin innocence which could bring out all the protective instincts of even a confirmed misogynist. The School’s uniform: a blazer, white blouse, red, white and blue striped tie, navy gymslip reaching to just above the knees, black stockings and matching well-polished shoes with heels of moderate height, as prescribed by the headmistress—could not hide the fact that inside the garments was a body with superlative feminine contours.

  Although the School Swot was five foot seven in height, she conveyed the impression of being very small and helpless. It was a case, as Spender knew and his companion clearly did not, of appearances being deceptive. She had attained an almost omniscient erudition, to which she was continually adding, and was capable of putting much of what she had learned to practical use. Spender was aware that she could handle a powerful car as well as any top driver on the international racing circuits, or the best ‘wheel-man’ employed by the Consortium to ensure a safe get-away from a robbery. What was more, not only did she have a knowledge and ability at unarmed combat which put to shame the toughest of his organization’s ‘minders’, but she had also proved herself equally adept in the use of every type of handheld weapon.

  A slight hint of a frown came to Amanda’s face as she looked at the six surfaces, then held up and peered through each dice in turn. Watching her, Spender was reminded of a perplexed pixie. Yet he, if not his companion, had no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing. Furthermore, he felt sure she would not only confirm his suspicions, but could in all probability also supply the solution to the problem with which he was faced.

  An unashamed imitation of the more celebrated international Playboy Club, although catering for a somewhat less wealthy clientele, the Puppydog Club owned by the South London and Southern England Crime Consortium relied upon the proclivity of its members for gambling to provide its main source of revenue. Nor were the profits acquired by cheating. As in every honest casino’s games of chance, the odds were so adjusted that the operators were assured a percentage of every wager that was placed came to them—no matter whether the result was for or against the ‘house’—and, in the long run they must be the winner.

  However, from time immemorial, unscrupulous players had sought for means to nullify the ‘house’s’ advantages. Experience had taught them that the only successful way to achieve this was to reduce the all-important percentages. Much thought and ingenuity had been devoted to attaining this desired state of affairs.

  The pair of dice which had caused Spender to seek the advice of Miss Benkinsop and the almost omniscient School Swot, despite the opposition and thinly disguised disapproval of his companion, were the end products of such devious experimentation. A fast action game such as ‘craps’, 20 which was played with only two dice—thereby limiting the various combinations of numbers upon which the decision of each ‘throw’ and wager depended—was particularly susceptible to such manipulations.

  So, having put the matter into the most competent hands he knew, the Consortium’s managing director sat back to await the results.

  On seeing the dice and listening to Maxwell Spender’s comment, Amanda Tweedle had suspected they might be what had once been called ‘Dispatchers’ and were now generally known as ‘Tops’. 21 Her preliminary examination had established this was not the case. As was traditional with honest dice, each was numbered correctly from one to six around the cube and the total of the opposing pairs of surfaces added to seven.

  Discovering her original premise was incorrect, the School Swot concluded she was holding a pair of ‘loaded’ dice. While there was no visible evidence of tampering, she knew a means by which she could ascertain whether this had been carried out. Laying down one of the dice, she gave the other her full attention. Taking it between her right thumb and forefinger as gently as if it was fragile, she held it by two diagonally opposite corners so that its ‘one’ surface was uppermost. When the cube rotated of its own volition, she repeated the method of holding it with each set of opposite corners in turn and found that only the original pair produced the movement.

  ‘I’ve never got the hang of doing the “pivot test”,’ Spender remarked quietly, deducing from the cessation of restless movements that his companion had a similar lack of manual dexterity, as the girl was exchanging the dice and commencing a similar experiment.

  ‘I confess I don’t find it easy myself,’ Miss Benkinsop replied, but the second man refrained from making any comment. ‘In fact, should the need arise and circumstances permit, I prefer to use the “water test”.’ 22

  Repeating the “pivot test” with an equal dexterity, Amanda satisfied herself that her assumption was correct. Gravity had caused the weighted surface of the dice to turn downwards when suspended lightly between the thumb and forefinger. Each dice was designed so that the three higher numbers and the ‘six’ in particular would finish on top at the end of a ‘throw’ more frequently than would otherwise have been the case, thereby ruining the long term percentages upon which the ‘house’s advantages were based and its profits depended. For all that, she still felt puzzled at the conclusion of the experiment. However, being a well-bred young lady, she did not offer to interrupt her elders’ conversation.

  ‘All right, Amanda,’ Spender said, noticing that the girl had put down the second dice and was looking at him. ‘How about it?’

  ‘I must confess I’m puzzled, sir,’ the School Swot replied, tapping one of the dice gently with her right forefinger. As in the headmistress’s case, her accent was that of an upper class English ‘county’ gentlewoman; but less authoritative. Rather it sounded properly respectful in the presence of older people and had a slightly lisping intonation which made her seem almost mouse-like. ‘They are loaded!’

  ‘Huh!’ Spender’s companion snorted. ‘We didn’t need to come all this f-, this way to be told that!’

  The abrupt termination of the profanity the second visitor had been about to utter was caused by a kick on the ankle, accompanied with a prohibitive frown, from the managing director.

  Slightly shorter than his superior in the hierarchy of the Consortium, Leonard ‘Lenny-Boy’ Hotchkiss was burly and powerfully built. If it had not been for a broken nose, a couple of pits and scars on his face—giving it the appearance of having been stepped on, which had happened on two occasions—he would have been passably handsome. Although just as expensively dressed as his companion, his clothing was more garishly ‘trendy’ and his longish black hair had drawn a brief glance of disapproval from the headmistress when they were introduced despite having been styled by a fashionable ‘gay’ hairdresser who catered to all the leading pop stars and television performers.

  Acknowledged as the leading junior executive of the Consortium, Hotchkiss had ambitions to rise higher. He was suspected of being disinclined to wait until the voluntary retirement of those above him, as a result of old age, brought his ascension in the natural and orderly fashion. When the Board of Directors had decided that the situation caused by the appearance of the loaded dice was sufficiently serious to warrant calling in outside aid, as the operation of the Puppydog Club was his
responsibility, Spender had not been able to refuse when Hotchkiss had asked to be present at the meeting with the experts who were to be employed.

  Despite Hotchkiss’s present status, he belonged to a family which had not previously ascended from the lower echelons of criminal society and therefore his sisters had not gained acceptance to the school, so he had tended to discount the stories he had heard concerning Miss Benkinsop’s establishment and the School Swot’s abilities. What was more, he had not cared for being compelled to accept Spender’s choice of the way to deal with the predicament. So he was tom between a desire to have the mystery solved before it caused an adverse effect to his aspirations and a hope that it would not happen as a result of the help which the managing director had insisted upon using.

  ‘The fact that they are loaded isn’t what I find puzzling … sir,’ Amanda corrected and, in spite of her apparently gentle tone of apology, there was something about how she looked at Hotchkiss while employing the honorific which made him feel very uncomfortable.

  ‘I always thought transparent dice couldn’t be loaded,’ Spender commented, not displeased by noticing signs of his companion’s discomfiture. ‘At least, not strongly enough for them to work as well as these do.’

  ‘That isn’t what I find puzzling, sir,’ Amanda replied, but there was a subtle difference in the way she addressed the older man. ‘I’m afraid it has been made comparatively easy for a sufficiently heavy loading to be carried out.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Spender asked.

  ‘Normally with transparent dice, sir, only the painted spots of the numbers are opaque,’ the School Swot explained. ‘This means the areas which can be weighted are limited. But the Club’s insignia on these dice allows a filling of, I would assume platinum or gold, rather than tungsten or amalgam, to be applied beneath it and so attain a greater weight.’

  ‘How the f-. How could it be done?’ Hotchkiss challenged, once again accepting the warning of a kick to his ankle and expunging the intended profanity, being genuinely interested as it had been at his instigation that the insignia was employed, to prevent the possibility of unscrupulous players introducing their own suitably prepared dice.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought it could be,’ Spender supplemented, realizing that such a task would be far more complicated than merely drilling the cavities of the spots slightly deeper and fixing the weights—suitably painted to match the untreated numbers—in position, as was done with most types of loaded dice with which he was acquainted. ‘But, if you say so, it obviously has been done. The thing is, how?’

  ‘The technique is new to me, sir,’ Amanda answered, having thought up her own method of producing the desired result while in the Fourth Form.

  ‘But that isn’t what is puzzling you either, is it, dear?’ Miss Benkinsop suggested, remembering her pupil’s experiments, but deciding they had nothing to do with the matter under discussion.

  ‘No, ma’am,’ Amanda agreed and tapped each dice in turn, continuing, ‘You did say they both appeared on the high stakes craps table, sir?’

  ‘They did!’ Hotchkiss confirmed bitterly, although the question had been directed at Spender. ‘And the others!’

  ‘Others, sir?’ the School Swot inquired.

  ‘We didn’t bring all of them,’ Spender elaborated. ‘But we’ve had five more put into the big game over the past fortnight’

  ‘Five,’ Amanda said, nodding her head in the fashion of one who sees where she had been in error. ‘That accounts for it, sir.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Hotchkiss challenged.

  ‘I thought they were both put into play at once—!’ Amanda began, but was not allowed to continue her explanation.

  ‘Do leave off, darling!’ Hotchkiss requested indignantly. ‘They might not have been to a bloody toffee-nosed public school, but our dealers and stickmen23 were sent over and trained in Las Vegas. There’s no way anybody could rip in a bad ’n’, much less two at once, at the big table. Particularly after the first time it happened and I’d warned them what I’d do if it was done again.’

  ‘But it did happen again,’ Miss Benkinsop pointed out, her demeanor such that an iceberg might have considered it decidedly chilly.

  ‘Yes. Well …I …’ Hotchkiss spluttered, more disconcerted by the headmistress’s obvious disapproval than he would have believed possible; especially a woman. ‘That is …’

  ‘It happened even when you were watching,’ Spender reminded, as his companion relapsed into sulky silence.

  ‘Few didn’t see whoever’s doing it last time, neither!’ the junior executive countered and, although he refrained from adding, ‘So there!’ the words were implied in his tone.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Spender conceded.

  ‘Then we are up against somebody who is exceptionally proficient,’ the headmistress declared. ‘I would have thought that you would be able to spot him, Max, or at least work out who is doing it and how it is being done.’

  ‘I’ve tried and I’ll be da-blowed if I can,’ Spender asserted, but he was so pleased by the tribute to his ability that he felt sufficiently forgiving towards his companion to lead him to continue, ‘No more than Lenny-Boy here has. And it’s not for the want of trying on his part. In fact, before it happened, I’d have sworn nobody was good enough to rip “work”24 into a game he was casing without him sussing out what was going on before the dice stopped rolling.’

  ‘Then something unusual is amiss,’ Miss Benkinsop said, in a voice which neither confirmed nor denied whether she believed what she had been told. ‘Give Mr. Hotchkiss the dice back, please, Amanda.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ the School Swot assented promptly and, as the two men looked at her, reached out what appeared to them to be an empty right hand and did as she was told.

  Instead of merely handing back the dice after she had picked them up, Amanda shook them in the fashion of the ‘shooter’ at a game of craps and the men could hear them clicking together in her clenched fist. Then her right arm moved with a whip-like snapping motion of the wrist and her hand opened.

  However, the objects which landed on the desk and bounced towards Hotchkiss were two five pence pieces!

  ‘What!’ the junior executive gasped, raising his gaze from what should have been a pair of dice and staring at the School Swot’s open and displayed palm as if unable to believe the evidence of his eyes. ‘How?’

  ‘Just a harmless prank, Mr. Hotchkiss,’ Miss Benkinsop understated, behaving as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Nor, where the angelic-faced girl standing so demurely at her side was concerned, did she consider it had. Swinging her gaze to where the study door opened and her maid entered with a small trolley, she went on, ‘Ah, tea. You may stay, Amanda, if these gentlemen don’t object.’

  ‘We don’t!’ Spender stated, appreciating that he had just witnessed a remarkable feat of legerdemain and, impressed more than he would have cared to admit, the junior executive nodded a vehement concurrence.

  ‘We’ve taken all the precautions we could think of, Amelia,’ Maxwell Spender declared, after tea and cakes had been consumed, returning to the subject which had brought his companion and himself from London. ‘And those you suggested. We’ve had every member photographed as he came in and covered the table with closed circuit television cameras, but we still haven’t a clue who’s ripping in those “loads”.’

  ‘I know it won’t be this simple,’ Miss Benkinsop admitted. ‘But have you checked upon which players consistently win by betting on the high numbers?’

  ‘We’ve tried, Lenny-Boy Hotchkiss replied, the question having been put to him. ‘But it’s never the same blokes and, even them we’ve clocked didn’t “shoot” all night. There’s something else I can’t suss out. How does the f-bloke who’s doing it know when his dice comes back into play after a box up?’

  ‘Well, Amanda?’ the headmistress requested, noticing that the avoidance of the profanity had not been caused by Spender’s intervention on this occasion and aware of the convention in crap games whereby the two dice in play were frequently returned to a box with others so a fresh pair could be selected.