Fraudsters and Charlatans (21 page)

Meanwhile, the Glasgow operation was doing well, when in November 1874 Kurr received a letter from Meiklejohn addressing him familiarly as ‘Dear Bill' and warning him that it might be necessary for the gang to ‘scamper out of the way'. He asked for an early meeting: ‘I fancy the brief [i.e. a warrant] is out for some of you. If not it will be. So you must keep a sharp look-out.'
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Kurr took the hint and shut down the operation. Meiklejohn received £500 for the tip-off, and used the money to buy a house in the South Lambeth Road.

Returning to London in 1875, Kurr and Benson, together with Murray and a publican, Henry Walters, started yet another business, the Society for Insurance against Losses on the Turf, which was widely advertised in France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland and Russia and claimed, falsely, to have a number of eminent men as its directors. Swindling foreigners meant that it was much easier to keep the dupes in the dark. Only the larger British race meetings were reported in the continental papers, so the Society claimed that the secret of success on the turf was to bet on the smaller meetings. This promising enterprise collapsed almost immediately after the arrest of Murray and Walters. A warrant was also issued for Kurr's arrest.

Kurr was beginning to realise that it was not sufficient to have just one detective in his pocket. Fortunately for his plans, there were at the time only fifteen detectives in Scotland Yard, and Kurr was well aware of the men he needed to cultivate and those who could not be bought. In 1875 the Detective Division was headed by the supremely incorruptible 45-year-old Superintendent Algernon Frederick Williamson, ‘loyal, hardworking, persevering, phlegmatic, obstinate, unenthusiastic, courageous, always having his own opinion, never afraid to express it . . . . so clear-headed, and so honest, and kind-hearted to a fault, he was a most upright and valuable public servant', recalled a colleague.
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Williamson's right-hand man was 56-year-old Chief Inspector George Clarke, who had been a policeman since 1840. Williamson described Clarke as ‘my most confidential and trusted assistant'.
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The two were also close personal friends. Clarke's speciality was the investigation of betting frauds: he had been responsible for the exposure of many dubious operations and the arrest of seventy-one offenders, including Murray and Walters. Clarke had also for some years been employed by the Chief Commissioner of Police, Edmund Henderson, in ‘business of a special and confidential character'
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well beyond the scope of everyday police work.

Among the younger officers, 40-year-old Chief Inspector William Palmer was a reliable plodder who had joined the force in 1862; but the most promising man was the energetic Nathaniel Druscovich. London-born, of Moldavian extraction, he was just 32 years old and his intelligence, application and impressive record of success had ensured a rapid rise though the ranks. He had been promoted to sergeant when barely in his twenties, was an inspector before he was 30 and chief inspector by 1871. Skilled in languages, he specialised in investigating international crimes. Meiklejohn, his involvement with Kurr still unsuspected, had by then risen to the rank of inspector.

An inspector at this time received a salary of only £225 a year and a chief inspector £275. In addition to this they were entitled to reward money, usually £5 or £10 a time, for praiseworthy conduct. Druscovich had been the recipient of several such rewards. It was a long way from the high-rolling lifestyle of Kurr and Benson.

Anxious about the warrant hanging over his head, Kurr decided that the man he must target was Clarke, and that Benson should open negotiations. Unknown to either, Clarke already held the mysterious Mr Yonge under suspicion, as Mr Hall, a son-in-law of Mrs Avis, had noticed some odd comings and goings in Shanklin and had reported the matter to the police.

Benson sent an associate to tell Clarke that he had some information on the Walters and Murray case, and, in view of his disability, suggested Clarke meet him in Shanklin. The meeting took place on 12 April 1875. Clarke was welcomed with hospitable charm by Yonge, who explained that he knew Walters through carrying out a translation for him and changing a cheque, but had not initially been aware of his criminal activities. He was hoping, because of his difficulty in travelling, to avoid being called as a witness. The conversation, which had begun so pleasantly, now started to take a sinister turn. Yonge revealed that Walters, who had impressed him as a thoroughly bad type, had claimed that he had bribed Clarke and furthermore could prove it with an incriminating letter.

Clarke was momentarily shaken, but remained calm. He said that he recalled the letter, which he had written to Walters a year previously asking for a meeting. He had been investigating a burglary and had wanted to see Walters to obtain certain information. He denied any underhand intention and said that he had not received any money from Walters. Asked where the letter was, Benson said he did not know but that a man named Kurr, a poor dupe of Walters, did know. He then attempted to start Clarke on the slippery slope to criminality by offering him £100 if he (Yonge) could avoid the witness box. To soothe the policeman's guilt he added that other Scotland Yard detectives were also receiving bribes.

Clarke adamantly refused. He said that he would make a report of the meeting but that Yonge probably knew too little to be called as a witness in any case. The discussion was concluded, but next morning Benson suggested to Clarke that he might be able to get the compromising letter from Kurr. He left Clarke in no doubt that, if Kurr should be arrested, the letter would be made public. Before Clarke left, Yonge offered him twenty sovereigns, but he would not accept them. Clarke, now deeply concerned, returned to London, where he reported that in his opinion Yonge was a scoundrel but that he had no useful information about the betting fraud. Despite his calm denials of any wrongdoing, he was aware of how his letter to Walters could be misinterpreted.

Perhaps realising he had gone too far, Benson changed his tactics. Letters were exchanged in which Benson addressed Clarke as ‘My dear Sir and Brother', an allusion to the fact that both men were Freemasons. Benson did not want Clarke to have a sample of his handwriting, so he asked Mrs Avis to make copies of his letters to send to Clarke. Mrs Avis was not a foolish woman. She was well able to pretend that she knew nothing of Benson's activities as long as he provided a pleasant home for her and paid for her son's schooling, but she must have suspected that Yonge was not what he seemed. Benson, for his part, saw her as a trusting domestic and made the mistake of underestimating her. Unknown to him, she retained the handwritten originals of his letters to Clarke. By June the two men were on friendlier terms, and Clarke made several more trips to Shanklin, of which he made no official report. The problem of Walters and Murray was by then temporarily solved. On being granted bail, both men had promptly absconded and sailed to America.

As the months went by, the vital letter was frequently alluded to and still dangled frustratingly just out of Clarke's reach. Clarke became increasingly anxious. Benson later claimed that he supplied money to Clarke on some of his visits, an allegation Clarke always denied. With the warrant still outstanding, Kurr had been lying low, but on Clarke's advice wrote to the Treasury to discover if he had any charges to meet: whether or not Clarke had anything to do with the decision is unknown, but ultimately the reply came that it had been decided not to proceed against Kurr. As for Clarke, although his letter was returned to him, he had been drawn into the web of Benson and Kurr.

The conspirators next turned their attention to Nathaniel Druscovich. This young star of the detective division must have appeared unapproachable, when he unwittingly delivered himself into their hands. Druscovich had recently guaranteed a bill for his brother, and had unexpectedly been called upon to pay £60, a sum quite beyond his means. Frantic with worry, he made the error of confiding his position to Meiklejohn, who did not hesitate to drag an honest man down. Claiming that he was unable to help Druscovich personally, he disclosed that he knew a man who could. The man was Bill Kurr.

Druscovich was tempted, but needed convincing that Kurr would keep quiet about the transaction. Meiklejohn assured him that Kurr was the soul of discretion, ‘a perfect gentleman, an owner of racehorses'.
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Shortly afterwards, Druscovich met Kurr and received £60, free of conditions. He must have known that Kurr, as a man of business, would not give something for nothing, but he cannot have known that he would pay for the small sum with his liberty, his career and, ultimately, his life.

The ease with which men suspected of betting frauds had recently been evading arrest had not escaped Superintendent Williamson, who, fearing that someone in his department was leaking information, began to make discreet inquiries. Realising that the younger recruits did not know enough to tip off the villains, he was forced to consider that a more senior man might be responsible. Only Meiklejohn had been active in all the cases under suspicion, but there was no proof of guilt. Williamson communicated his findings to the Commissioner of Police, and soon the Home Office set up an inquiry. While this proceeded, Williamson had the difficult task of behaving as if he knew nothing.

With senior detectives in his pay, Kurr was now ready to carry out a scheme of great audacity. He was tired of little businesses with small pickings, and shops that had to be closed after a few days of opening. He wanted to make big money. The new scheme was outlined at a dinner held on 4 August 1876 at which Meiklejohn and Charles Bale, an associate of Kurr's, were present. It required the intelligence and linguistic ability of Harry Benson and the organisational talents of Kurr to contrive a plan that was bold, lucrative and convincing. The previous swindles had been advertised through circulars and in the newspapers: this time they were going to operate a newspaper of their own, but not for the general public – this message was going to a very precisely targeted clientele.

Kurr arranged for Brydone, an Edinburgh printer, to publish
The Sport
, a racing journal. The paper claimed to have been printed in London, an anomaly which seemed not to worry Mr Brydone. Although numbered 1,713, to give the impression that it was well established, only one edition was issued and a few hundred copies printed: it did not go on general sale. Benson made a special study of French directories and was able to identify wealthy individuals who were ideal recipients of the publication. The contents were mainly copied wholesale from genuine sporting papers. The only original piece was a leading article written by Kurr and polished by Benson.

This article revealed that
The Sport
was the property of the fabulously wealthy Andrew Montgomery, who had amassed a fortune of £575,000 through intelligent application of his great knowledge of horse racing. So astute was the fictional Montgomery that the wagers he placed invariably won, which meant that the bookmakers, who had initially been so pleased to take his wagers, now refused to take any more of his bets; and that Montgomery was no longer able to take part in the sport he loved.

The Sport
railed with righteous indignation against mean-spirited bookmakers and declared that it would ‘never cease to protest until we have compelled these vultures to discontinue such unfair conduct'.
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Montgomery was not, however, the sort of man to take this lying down – he was much too clever for that. The rules of the Jockey Club, he said, forbade the making of bets in an assumed name, but he could still employ agents to bet for him – for a suitable commission, of course. Once again, Kurr and Benson had come up with an ideal scheme. Their trademark was to offer a deal in which the participants, it seemed, could not lose. Montgomery was betting with his own funds, so if he lost he would be losing his own money, whereas if he won his agents would receive 5 per cent commission on the winnings.

The newspapers were packaged up to be sent to their targets abroad, with Benson's French translation folded inside. Initially they covered only one area of France, the Marne and the Gironde. Before the papers could be distributed, however, there was one little detail that needed attending to. Any continental development was bound to attract the attention of Nathaniel Druscovich. In anticipation of this, Meiklejohn sent Druscovich a letter saying that Kurr wanted to see him. To his surprise, Druscovich found that the meeting had nothing to do with the £60 he owed Kurr; instead, Kurr wanted to talk about his new business. He said he was going to open a betting office for customers living in France. Reassuring Druscovich that the business was quite legal, he said that all he wanted from the inspector was to be warned if he heard of any complaints about the operation, or if any warrants were issued, especially if they referred to someone called Montgomery. Although Druscovich was left with the worrying impression that the scheme was not all it should be, Kurr managed to convince him that it was not in itself criminal, but a means of sidestepping a technicality of the Betting Act. Kurr offered Druscovich £25 for his trouble, which the policeman refused, saying he was already £60 in Kurr's debt, but when Kurr thrust the money into the policeman's pocket, Druscovich made no further protest.

According to Kurr, he next saw Clarke and handed him £50 for a similar arrangement (which Clarke denied). He gave Clarke some envelopes on which he had written his address, saying that, should Clarke wish to see him, he should send one with a blank sheet of paper inside, to avoid any written correspondence between them.

The scheme was to involve large sums of money arriving from France. To avoid repetition of a scare the pair had encountered in an earlier swindle, when the French police had stopped their letters, Kurr approached Meiklejohn, who found him two Post Office employees, Jebb and Goodwin, who were happy, for a consideration, to give early warning of any investigation.