Nasty Business

by Gillian Godden

  ‘What about Ralph Gold? We all know his interest in the place, would he want it turned into a strip club?’

  ‘All Mr Gold requires is profit, not loss. As far as he’s concerned, it’s up to you what you do with the place; after all, it’s your reputation at stake, not his.’

  Tony kept throwing out the arguments, but felt he was fighting a losing battle.

  At last, Jake spoke up. ‘Why not try it?’ he said. ‘The options look pretty bleak, otherwise. We’re paying more for staff on a Monday and Tuesday night than we’re making. The other option would be to close, which means no money at all.’

  ‘Where are you going to get these exotic women from, then? The usual ratholes? Women the punters have all seen before, who are only interested in doing extras with them … is that what you really want, Jake?’ Tony sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and sat back in his chair. He knew Jake was right, it was costing more to open on the quiet nights. Nobody went clubbing on a Monday, most of them had work in the morning. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but you had all better have some good ideas, to make this work.’

  Tony wasn’t happy, this wasn’t his dream, but he could see everyone’s point of view. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t mentioned the policeman’s suggestion, the night before. Still, he had, and now, finally, he was prepared to listen.

  ‘I’ve had some ideas,’ the accountant said. He seemed to have it all worked out. He had taken into consideration both Tony’s feelings and the money-making opportunities the idea held. After all, he was an accountant; money was all he knew. ‘We’re going “Vegas”, Tony, pole dancers, all the same height and all the same size. Diamante costumes, and house rules. Firstly, no messing around with the customers, and secondly, you have nothing to do with it.’ He pointed a finger at Tony, in what seemed a threatening way. ‘You are the weekend showman, the playboy host. Sharon and Jake will run the strip club. Sharon will do the hiring and firing.’

  Sharon nearly fell off her chair; she hadn’t expected this. What did she know about strip clubs? She interrupted the accountant, saying, ‘I’m really not the right person to do that, I don’t know anything about it.’ She blushed at the thought.

  ‘Then do your research, Sharon, go and see some of the pubs and clubs and then put a different slant on it. A woman running things would make it harder for the strippers to influence with their feminine ways. They couldn’t flatter you or tempt you in the way they could tempt a man, if you know what I mean.’ The accountant moved his glasses to the end of his nose and looked over them at Sharon.

  She looked around the room. The three of them were looking at her and waiting for some kind of reaction.

  ‘Can I think about it?’ she said. She was beginning to feel pressured. They all nodded in agreement.

  During the course of the day, Jake kept talking about it, and for each argument Tony put up, Jake had an answer. Tony even complained about the expense of having chrome poles put on the stage, safe enough for the dancers to use.

  ‘You’re complaining about money?’ That made Jake laugh out loud. They were raking in the money. Life had never been so good. They were taking thousands from the protection racket. The security firm that Tony had suddenly plucked out of the air and put in Jake’s name had taken off considerably. It operated as an agency, and people were ringing for security guards to go to festivals, and even warehouses. It was crazy, but they were employing more people to do the job and earning a lot of money in the process. The money-lending, or loan sharking, as Tony’s side business was known, was also making a lot of money in interest payments. No, money definitely wasn’t the problem. Tony’s attitude was the problem. They were chauffeur-driven now, which made it easier for them to talk business in the back of the car. ‘Come on, Tony, let’s try it. Let Sharon do the interviews, and take control of that side of things. Let’s show the world “Lambrianu’s” not only is a great nightclub, but is also the place to see beautiful women.’ Jake raised an eyebrow and smiled at Tony.

  ‘Okay, mate, it’s all Sharon’s decision now, I want nothing to do with it. I’ll pay for the alterations to the club, but that’s it. I’m not the bossman, using the club for my own recreation.’

  Jake knew he could get Sharon onside. He had already seen that she liked the idea and was drawn to the position of power it would give her, rather than just being the bar manager. Since she had given up her job to work with them both, he knew she felt that she had lost some of her independence and status. It was all about Jake and Tony; Sharon was just another member of their workforce and Jake’s wife. This was her opportunity to be someone in her own right.

  Jake had spoken to the accountant, and everything he had said made sense. Taking a commission off the dancers would pay their wages; charging an entry fee on the door would pay towards the cost of the bills. This was an opportunity to go forward, but he could sense Tony’s reluctance, for obvious reasons.

  Sharon started looking into things. She found out where some of the pubs were that had dancers, and visited them. She had never been in that kind of atmosphere before, and although some thought it was strange, a woman going in and keeping her clothes on, some men just presumed she would be auditioning.

  Sharon could see why Tony was reluctant to turn his new glamorous club into a dive, like some of the ones she had seen up to now. That said, the atmosphere was good, and the men seemed to be having a good time, laughing and joking with the girls, so she could see what the accountant meant, too. There was serious money to be made.

  She had looked towards Soho, known by everyone and arguably London’s premier red-light district. The main thing she noticed was there was nowhere like the accountant had suggested. Nowhere with style and class, like the famous Playboy Club in Mayfair, with its world-renowned bunny girls.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ she announced to Tony and Jake, ‘on the condition that it’s my baby and I call the shots. I know I can do this, I have the vision and the sight to see it through. You two only see it from a man’s point of view; I see it from a woman’s. Is that a deal?’ Like Jake, she was a bookkeeper and accountant, so she could look at things from a business perspective. She felt she could prove herself to them and make this work.

  Tony and Jake looked at each other and smiled, this was going to be a sight to behold. What would Sharon come up with?

  ‘Deal,’ they both said in unison. The curiosity alone made Tony want to try it, and after all, if it didn’t work, it would be down to Sharon and the accountant. As he’d been told, he was the showman in charge of the club.

  STRIPTEASE

  A few months had passed. The club nights were doing well and, even though it had been announced that there was an entry fee of a hundred pounds, a lot of people still came in. There were a few that couldn’t afford it and stopped coming, but the accountant had been right. Those who moved in the right circles, the people with the money, felt it was nothing to pay to have some fun, rub shoulders with this famous gangland boss, and pursue the beautiful models that Tony still let in for free, as long as they brought their champagne-buying sugar daddies.

  The stage and its spotlights gave the place a different look. Six large poles were installed, and there were long pink curtains at either side. Over the last couple of months, Tony had handed the budget for that part of the business over to Sharon.

  Already, on the club nights, some of the wealthy gentlemen looked at the closed curtains hiding the long poles that stretched from floor to ceiling on the stage, and asked what was happening. On hearing they were putting on events with Las Vegas-style showgirls, Tony saw their eyes light up, and a big grin spread across their faces.

  Sharon advertised for pole dancers to come and audition. She had emphasized ‘pole dancers’, and not strippers. She was surprised when so many turned up to her group audition. Some were even out of work models, hoping this would give their career a boost. After all, who knew who would be having a drink in the club? A photographer, a journalist?

  Immediately Sh
aron saw anyone over thirty, they were dismissed. Anyone who had a stretch mark, or weighed more than nine stone, was also out, and anyone who didn’t have the style and grace to be able to climb up the poles and dance around them was also out. The pool of applicants went from around fifty women to twenty in less than half an hour.

  Sharon could see they all seemed rather shocked and upset that it was a woman interviewing them and making the choice, and not the blonde playboy they had seen in the newspapers. It was crazy and funny because, all the time, Jake, Tony and the accountant were watching on the monitors in the office.

  Once the girls had been chosen, Sharon hired a choreographer, and rehearsals began. She also hooked up with a seamstress who made costumes for dancers in some of the West End shows, and she made sure everyone looked the part. Jake, Tony and the accountant were all present for the full dress rehearsal, prior to the launch of the business, and even Tony had to admit the show was spectacular – and there was nothing tacky about it.

  Finally, opening night arrived. Mondays were usually dead, so the change of focus was no great risk. And, as Dan and his friends had been dropping off leaflets at local offices where there were more men than women, they were hopeful of a decent crowd.

  Jake and Tony stood at the bar. The disco lights were on and the dancefloor was lit up; all they needed now was custom. One by one, a few well-dressed men in suits started trickling in to the club. They looked a little pensive, because it still looked like a nightclub, but they were reassured when they saw the stage and the dance poles.

  Then a group of men came in that included some Tony and Jake recognized from television and magazines. They were all eagerly awaiting the main event. Jake went to the doormen and asked them if they had paid – they nodded, and they could prove it. Each man was given a card when his entry fee had been paid, and it also got them their first drink at the bar.

  Sharon was backstage, in the newly decorated changing rooms, with her clipboard. She was making sure everyone was present, properly dressed and made up, and ready for the show. At last, the music started up and, one by one, in their spangled, tasselled costumes, the girls walked out, took hold of a pole each and started to climb up them, swing around them, and teasingly wrap their legs around them.

  The atmosphere was relaxed, the men were shouting to the girls and some were even throwing money at their favourite. The girls were like gymnasts, and it was all in good taste and good fun. Each one dropped a strap of her specially designed costume, and when they took off their bikini bottoms, there was an even smaller G-string underneath. There was applause and laughter from the men. Sharon had done well.

  Each dancer, in turn, had her own spot, and at the end of the evening, they all came on in different costumes and took a bow to the audience.

  The cash register was ringing away and the credit cards were in the machines. Yes, thought Tony to himself, no matter who they are, all men like to see a pretty woman, scantily clad. He admitted he had been wrong.

  ‘What you need, Sharon,’ said the accountant, ‘is a star attraction, a full stripper for the end of the evening, to finish off. These girls tease and show as much as possible, but they’re not completely naked or just wearing their stockings, are they?’

  Sharon agreed, the show did need a finale. One of these women would do it, she was sure, especially if the money was right.

  Tony had been concerned about the club nights and how it would affect them, but again, he was wrong to worry. The curtains at the stage were pulled together, almost looking like a pink wall, and the party people came in – after they had paid their entry fee, of course.

  So, now they had their nightclub, for the couples, singles and hen parties, and their revue bar, for men who liked to see showgirls dance around poles, and the show finished off with a stripper. There was no such thing as a quiet night at Lambrianu’s. The money on the door, alone, paid the girls wages.

  Tony was invited to movie premiers and theatre nights, and spent his time dating his choice of pretty women that hung on his every word. Jake felt it was good promotion for Tony and the club, but it was also promotion for the young starlets who wanted to be photographed with Mr Clubland, the notorious racketeer. It worked both ways, and Tony constantly had his photo in some glossy magazine or other, standing on the red carpet with a wannabe model or would-be actress. He revelled in it. This was living!

  His own party nights, in his apartment, caused the odd scandal, but it only served to make him more popular, to the point where the newspapers called him ’the Italian stud’. Jake and Sharon laughed when they saw him disappearing at the end of the night with some glamorous woman – or even a couple of them, to make the party go with a swing.

  Eventually, though, these models decided to make extra money by selling their ‘kiss and tell’ stories. It seemed everyone wanted to know about Tony’s sex life and the women he entertained, which made the club even more popular, because people then came to see the man himself.

  Time passed and the year was nearly up; Tony and Jake were soon going to find out how much Ralph Gold would want for the club, which was now very much a going concern.

  Sharon had hired more strippers, not just one for a finale, and had the pole dancers on in their break times. She held stag parties, and got the dancers to encourage the customers to buy cheap champagne at top prices. These were all well-known wealthy men and each paid their fees, then made a point of going to Tony’s office to meet him.

  This was the part that Tony enjoyed the most; they came to his office to shake his hand and meet the man behind the myth. No one knew anything about him, other than he was Italian and came from a wealthy background. If only they knew, he thought to himself, if only they knew I lived on the streets, and went through dustbins for food.

  Tony and Jake still visited the local pubs and kept in touch with the landlords, as Tony didn’t want to appear as though he had taken his eye off the ball for one second. When he felt someone was taking advantage he reverted back to his old ways, showing his short temper and using his fists. He might be ‘Mr Lambrianu’ to his wealthy customers, but he was also still Tony who ran the protection racket and didn’t suffer fools gladly.

  The strippers at the club were exclusive and signed a contract; while working at Tony’s club, they weren’t allowed to work anywhere else. This way, if the customers wanted to see their favourite stripper, they had to come to Lambrianu’s to see her. The strippers were happy; they were well-rewarded, everything was above board and they paid their taxes. Plus, they also got money tips from the men and commission on the champagne they sold.

  Sharon discovered some men didn’t like to share their favourite girls with the other punters and, despite the fact they were all married, seemed to get a little jealous when their favourite stripper was showing attention to someone else. Sharon had a word with the accountant about this, omitting Tony and Jake from the conversation, and he suggested installing VIP booths. That way, a man could have the woman he wanted to see dance exclusively for him. CCTV cameras were installed in these booths, so there was no reason for the strippers to feel unsafe or opportunity to offer anything more. Of course, exclusive exotic dances came with an exclusive exotic price. Tony and Jake were surprised these men were prepared to pay it, but pay it they did, and the revue bar nights became even more popular.

  THE KING OF SIN

  That was what the newspapers called Tony Lambrianu – the ‘king of sin’, in every aspect of his life. No stone was left unturned when it came to his private and his business world.

  There is no such thing as bad publicity, so this reputation only made the women love him and the men envy him. Tony made a point of having a woman of model status on his arm, every night. And yet, as much as the money poured in and Tony and Jake’s lives took on celebrity status, Jake was worried. He felt there was something lacking, but he couldn’t talk to Tony about it, he would just laugh it off.

  Jake often went to see Elle. He felt Tony had reached his goal, bu
t lacked an intimate personal life. Jake had Sharon, but Tony had no one special, and this bothered Jake; it was as though Tony was afraid of getting too close.

  Tony liked to be in control; that way, he felt secure. The more he reached for the stars, he seemed to get the moon as well. Over the months, things had kept on getting better and better for Tony, but now it was crunch time. The year was finally up: it was time to find out if he could keep his empire. Today was the day.

  The meeting was set for noon at the solicitor’s office. This was one meeting that made Tony sweat. He hadn’t slept, he had even spent the evening before alone, which was unusual for him. Jake felt the same fear; today was judgement day.

  The solicitor was Mr Mathews, who Tony had met when he was in Italy, visiting his grandmother. The man had turned up with Don Carlos. Tony had learned that Eddie Rawlings had betrayed him, and had undertaken to kill him for it. He had also shared his dream of owning the club. Both he and Don Carlos had signed their names over the sealed flap of an envelope that contained Ralph Gold’s asking price; he had no idea what that was, but he was about to find out. Tony and Jake had banked all their funds together. All in all, they had two and a half million pounds. They were hoping, if nothing else, this showed willing and could maybe be used as a deposit.

  Tony went dressed in a well-tailored grey suit from Savile Row. His gold cufflinks were engraved with his initials. As it seemed the newspapers and the glossy magazines wanted to know everything about him, he made sure that he was always dressed to perfection, just in case a photographer or journalist turned up out of the blue.