The Camden Tales

8 - All At Sea

-=₪ April 1922 ₪=-

Moey's Spieler / Soho / 10.15am

Alfie and Moey had been friends since they were teenagers, often found kicking about Somers Town Market together.

Their gambit was to set up a small card table and entice market goers to follow the card, while Moey quickly moved three playing cards around the table. If the punter could correctly guess where the card finished, they won, but if they lost track, the house won.

When nobody was betting, Moey would make the cards easy to follow, causing laughter and drawing crowds. The moment money was on the table, the house always won.

Alfie, with his gift of the gab, would bring the punters to the table who were eager to win and keen to prove their observation skills. While Moey, with his deft fingers would trick them out of their honest day's wages.

Often, their little enterprise would attract police attention after a few complaints from the locals and they would be forced to move along. The spirited duo would fold the table under arm and skip to another market, often Spitalfields or even Covent Garden for larger wins but higher risk of fines.

Always, however, by the following weekend they would invariably return to Somers Town and pitch in their favourite spot.

Sixteen years later and in many ways the pair hadn't changed. They still spent many weekends together, still ran cons and were still solid mates. More so since being the only two of their friends to survive the war. Their other mates had often joined them at market to pickpocket unsuspecting onlookers and pose as crowd members who had decided to have a punt at Moey's game and luckily won.

These days Moey had a string of spielers, which was not only wonderful for Moey's schemes of accumulation but also proved fruitful in gathering word from the streets. If Moey didn't know something, then it most likely wasn't worth knowing. While Malka was a supporter of the latter, Alfie was most definitely a supporter of the former.

Alfie Solomons Jr was a gambler, and now at thirty-four, it was a safe bet, he always would be.

"Well, look who it is. If it isn't old Two Coats himself." called Moey as he saw Alfie stroll in.

The Soho spieler was housed in an unused warehouse. It had many Faro card tables, a couple of snooker tables and a bar. On busy nights, Moey would open the mezzanine above, which housed a wealth more Faro tables. At full capacity his spieler could easily support four hundred men, all gambling, drinking, smoking, and generally having a good time.

Today was quiet, or at least it was for now, given the early hour. Only a few chaps could be seen smoking and drinking, quietly occupying a few of the tables.

Alfie and Moey greeted one another with slap back hugs and joined a table that only had a couple of old fellas on. Alfie was quick to pull out his pipe, observe the Faro case keep and begin placing his chips.

"How's tricks mate?" Moey asked, pleased to see his buddy. The barman delivered two rums to their table.

"Honestly? I'm thinking I should be coppering my bet at this point." Alfie mumbled with his pipe in mouth and eyes locked on the table.

"That bad? Still? I thought this deal with the Gypsy fella was gonna help?"

"Yeah, well, we ain't really seeing it." Alfie said before swigging his rum and adjusting his bets. "We got the brass... which helped the store and has made protection easier to maintain, but that is it really, we're maintaining what Sibini left us." Alfie sighed, adjusting bets, and pushing his bottom lip up in annoyance. "I still haven't been able to get on the racetracks, which is where we make the real dough, so, feeling a bit fucked, to be honest. I wanted this deal with the Gypsy to work."