Freddie Foreman--The Godfather of British Crime by Freddie Foreman

Freddie Foreman--The Godfather of British Crime by Freddie Foreman

Author:Freddie Foreman [Freddie Foreman]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781782195016
Publisher: John Blake
Published: 2013-06-14T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 12

BUILDING THE EMPIRE

Harold Macmillan, Britain’s then Prime Minister, was right when he told the nation in the early 1960s: ‘You’ve never had it so good.’ Those years were some of the most lucrative in our career. Continuing success from pavement work and robbing banks and post offices meant I could now begin to invest money into straight businesses like the betting shops, and clubs and pubs. Ironically though, Scotland Yard kept putting obstacles in the way of me ‘going straight’.

When my brother-in-law Johnny Fitz (Fitzgerald) applied for our first betting shop licence in Lower Road, Bermondsey, we were heavily opposed. At the hearing in Walworth Road Town Hall, half a dozen coppers crashed in like storm troopers and accused Johnny of being ‘a front man for Frederick Foreman, a known criminal’. Well, as it happened, I knew the mayor, Bill Gates, who was chairman of the Licensing Board. I had raised money for his favourite charities and Bill, wearing his mayoral chain, was photographed in the local newspaper arriving at my pub, the Prince of Wales, in his Rolls-Royce. In response to objections from the police, he pointed out, quite rightly, ‘It is Mr Fitzgerald who is applying for the licence, not Mr Foreman,’ and he granted the application.

My mini empire was expanding rapidly. My pub, the Prince of Wales in Lant Street, Borough, was proving very popular; Maureen and I lived there in an upstairs flat. The area was famous. One of Lant Street’s noted previous residents was Charles Dickens, who had lodged there when his father was in Marshalsea Debtors’ Prison, which used to be around the corner. The house Dickens stayed in had been demolished, but one of my locals, Terry Fermature, brought me Dickens’s old lock and key, which I proudly displayed in a glass case in the Prince of Wales.

I had another flat on the 14th floor of the Brandon Estate, which was a prestige block when built and included members of parliament among its tenants. We used it as a quiet little bolt hole that only close friends knew about. I had also invested in a house converted into five flats facing Clapham Common, and we still had the house in Milton Road where Ronnie King lived.

Over a short period of time, we built up a chain of betting shops. In addition to Bermondsey, I owned another with Tommy Wisbey and Billy Gorbell in Borough Market, one in Brixton run by Reggie Isaacs, another in Rotherhithe New Road, and two in Croydon. The most successful was the shop at Nunhead Lane, Peckham, where one of our punters was Ronnie Corbett, the TV comedian, who lived around the corner. It was managed by Ding Dong with my George and a young chap Kenny behind the counter. I would occasionally chalk runners up on the board and pay out the winnings on days when it suited me. It was a very good front after I’d done a bit of pavement work, as it provided me with the perfect alibi.



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