The more extensive of the operations in which Benson was engaged followed upon his release from gaol. He was estranged from his family in Paris, and, being obliged to earn his own living, he advertised himself as seeking the place of secretary, giving his knowledge of several languages as one of his qualifications. This brought him into connection with a man who was to be his confederate and partner in many nefarious schemes. A certain William Kurr engaged him, and they soon came to an understanding, becoming associated on equal terms. Kurr was a very shady character, who had tried several lines of life. From clerk in a railway office he passed into the service of a West End money-lender, and then became interested in turf speculations. The business of illegitimate betting attracted him as offering great opportunities for acquiring fortune, and he was the originator of several sham firms and bogus offices, none of which prospered greatly until he fell in with Benson. From that time forth their operations were on a much bolder and more successful scale. Benson’s ready wit and inventive genius struck out new lines of procedure, and there is little doubt that quite early in the partnership he conceived the happy idea of suborning the police. Kurr, under the name of Gardner and Co., of Edinburgh, had come under suspicion, and was being hotly pursued by a detective officer, Meiklejohn, who had been chosen from among the Scotland Yard officers to act for the Midland Railway in the north. When the scent was hottest, Kurr, by Benson’s advice, approached Meiklejohn and bought him over. This was the first step in a great conspiracy which presently involved other officers, who weakly sacrificed honour and position to the specious temptations of these scoundrels.
Benson, being half a Frenchman, and intimately acquainted with French ways, saw a great opening for carrying on turf frauds in France. The firm accordingly moved over to French soil, and elaborated with great skill and patience a vast scheme for entrapping the unwary. They first worked carefully through the directories, Bottin’s and others, in order to obtain the names and addresses of likely victims; when eventually they were brought to justice some of these books were found in Benson’s quarters, much marked and annotated. At the same time they prepared an
attractive circular, setting forth in specious terms the extraordinary advantages of their system of betting. This circular was distributed broadcast through the country, accompanied by a copy of a sporting paper specially prepared for this particular purpose. It was the only copy of the paper that ever appeared, although it was numbered 1,713. It had been printed on purpose in Edinburgh, and was in every respect a complete journal, containing news up to date, advertisements, leading articles, columns of paragraphs and notices, several of which referred in the most complimentary language to a Mr. Hugh Montgomery—Benson’s alias in this fraud—and the excellence of his system of betting investment. It stated that this Mr. Hugh Montgomery, who had invented the system, had already netted nearly half a million of money by following its principles, and it was open to any to reap the same handsome profit. They had only to remit funds to the firm at any of their numerous offices in London, at Cleveland Road, Duke Street St. James’s, and elsewhere.
This brilliant scheme soon brought in a rich harvest. Many simple-minded French people swallowed the bait, and none more readily than a certain Comtesse de Goncourt, a lady of good estate, but with an unfortunate taste for speculation. The comtesse threw herself eagerly into the arrangement, and forwarded several substantial sums to London, which were duly invested for her with good results; for the old trick was followed of at first allowing her to win. Presently her transactions grew larger, till at last they reached the sum of £10,000. Several bogus cheques were sent her, purporting to be her winnings, but she was desired to hold them over until a certain date, in accordance with the English law. Yet these rapacious scoundrels were not satisfied with such large profits. They wrote to the poor comtesse that another £1,200 was necessary to complete certain formalities. As she was now nearly cleaned out, she tried to raise the money in Paris through her notary, and this led to the discovery of the whole fraud.
Meanwhile the conspirators had been living in comfort, pulling the wires from London. Benson had made himself safe, as he thought, by extending his system of suborning the police. Through Meiklejohn, a second officer, Druscovitch by name, who was especially charged with the Continental business of Scotland Yard, was approached and tempted. He was a well-meaning man, with a good record, but in very straitened circumstances, and he fell before the tempting offers of the insidious Benson. All this time Benson was living in good style at Shanklin, in the Isle of Wight. He had a charming house, named Rose Bank, a good cook and numbers of other servants, he drove a good carriage, and constantly entertained his friends. One of his accomplishments was music; he composed and sang charming French chansonettes with so much feeling that they were always loudly encored. Benson soon tried to inveigle another fly from Scotland Yard into his web. Scenting danger from the news that Inspector Clarke was hunting up certain sham betting offices, he invited him down to his little place at Shanklin. Benson did not succeed with Clarke, who, when placed on his trial with the other inspectors, was acquitted. He must have been sorely tried, for Benson showed consummate tact, and cleverly acted upon Clarke’s fears by seeming to incriminate him. Then he offered a substantial bribe, which, however, Clarke was honest enough to refuse.
When the storm broke Benson had early notice of the danger from his allies in the police. Druscovitch warned them that a big swindle had come in from Paris; it was theirs. Already the French police had begun to act against the firm. They had requested the Scotland Yard authorities, by telegraph, to intercept letters from Paris which, it was believed, contained large remittances. But Benson contrived to secure this telegram before it was delivered. Knowing that he had good friends, he held his ground; Druscovitch, on the other hand, became more and more uneasy, thinking that he could not shield his paymasters much longer. He had many secret interviews with them, and pleaded desperately that he must ere long arrest somebody, and he warned Benson to look out for himself. It was time for the conspirators to think about their means of retreat. So far they seem to have held the bulk of their booty in Bank of England notes, a very tell-tale commodity which could always be traced through the numbers. Benson solved this difficulty by deciding to change the Bank of England notes into Scottish notes, the numbers of which were not invariably taken on issue. Through Meiklejohn Benson got rid of £13,000 worth, travelling down to Alloa on purpose and getting Clydesdale Bank notes in exchange. To cover this operation, Benson had deposited £3,000 in the Alloa Bank. He was on very friendly terms with its manager, and was actually at dinner with him when a telegram was put into his hands warning him to decamp, for Druscovitch was on his way down with the warrant to arrest him. Benson bolted, but was, of course, obliged to forfeit his deposit of £3,000.
When Druscovitch arrived his game, of course, was gone. He still attempted to linger over the job, but the authorities were more in earnest than he was, and England became too hot for him. The exchange of Bank of England into Clydesdale notes was known, and so were some of the numbers of the latter. A watch was therefore set upon the holders of these notes, and Benson thought it wiser to escape to Holland. Soon after his arrival at Rotterdam he and his friends were arrested. But here, at the closing scene, while extradition was being demanded, another confederate, Froggatt, a low-class attorney, nearly succeeded in obtaining their release. He sent a forged telegram to the Dutch police, purporting to come from Scotland Yard, to the effect that the men they had got were the wrong people. The imposition was discovered just in time, and the prisoners were handed over to a party of London police, headed, strange to say, by Druscovitch in person. His complicity with the swindlers was not yet suspected, and he was compelled to carry out his orders. What passed between him and his friends is not exactly known, but Kurr and Benson, after the manner of their class, had no idea of suffering alone. That they should turn on their police assistants was a matter of course, and one of their first acts in Millbank Prison, where they were beginning their long terms of penal servitude, was to make a clean breast of it and implicate the detectives.
When Clarke, Druscovitch, Meiklejohn, and Palmer, with Froggatt, were put upon their trial, the facts, as already stated, were elicited, and it was found that the swindlers had long secured the connivance and support of all these officers, except Clarke. A letter, which was impounded, written by Meiklejohn to Kurr as far back as 1874, shows how eager Meiklejohn was to earn his money. It was an early notification of the issue of a warrant, and warned his friends to keep a sharp look out:—
“Dear Bill,—Rather important news from the North. Tell H. S. and the Young One to keep themselves quiet. In the event of a smell stronger than now they must be ready to scamper out of the way.”