Chapters
Shownotes Transcript
Matt, what would you do if you were in the upper echelons of British society and you knew a sex and security scandal had the potential to blow the establishment apart and destroy the credibility of the government? Well, we've all been there. I mean, I'd probably draw the curtains, order a pizza, a posh one, because I'd be in the upper echelons of British society. And just...
just hope it all goes away by the morning. Great B plan. A plan could be to just put all the blame on a shady osteopath slash sketch artist. Ooh, left field? Not in this story. 27th of March, 1963, Westminster. In his office, Home Secretary Henry Brooke invites his two visitors to take a seat.
Thank you for coming, gentlemen. I've found myself with something of a dilemma. Brooke pauses as he chooses his words. Then he tells them at the centre of the problem is one man, Stephen Ward. Brooke turns to one of his visitors, MI5 chief Roger Hollis. Ward is the man who introduced Keeler to Profumo in the first place. He's since been to see Labour's George Wig and told outright lies about the pair's relationship. He also claims to be an agent for MI5. He's not one of ours, I can assure you.
Hang on, that's a lie. What about Ward's meetings with the mysterious handler Mr Woods? All now denied by MI5 so they can steer clear of the Profumo affair. Keep up, Matthew. Sorry, I can be a slow learner sometimes. But I feel there'll be people out there listening who go, I'm so glad he asked. I'm here for you. Brooke eyes Hollis with suspicion. Keela has made her own claims to the press backing the spy element. She's been saying that Ward and Evenoff wanted her to get information from Profumo about nuclear warheads. Hollis laughs that off. Brooke snaps at him.
Stephen Ward is a respected member of society. If he's going to shoot his mouth off about these matters, people will believe him. Brooke turns his attention to the other man in the room, Metropolitan Police Chief Joseph Simpson. What's your view on all of this? Can we prosecute Ward under the Official Secrets Act? I doubt it. As Roger said, there's nothing to link him to MI5. Brooke sighs. This meeting was pointless. But then Simpson brightens, remembering something.
We might be able to secure a conviction for Ward on something else. It's possible the man's been living off of moral earnings. When my officers interviewed Keela, she told a few stories about her sexual escapades at parties hosted by Ward. Among other things, prostitutes were present. At the time we didn't act, private sexual behaviour is hardly our concern. But maybe we could reopen the file. Brooke wraps his desk with his knuckles, delighted. I want a full investigation launched into Ward's activities. I will expect regular updates.
Brooke needed to shut Stephen Ward up. Now, hopefully, he can. Stephen doesn't know it yet, but he's now the establishment's number one enemy. Oh, how the tables have turned. My dad works in B2B marketing. He came by my school for career day and said he was a big ROAS man. Then he told everyone how much he loved calculating his return on ad spend.
My friend's still laughing at me to this day. Not everyone gets B2B, but with LinkedIn, you'll be able to reach people who do. Get $100 credit on your next ad campaign. Go to linkedin.com slash results to claim your credit. That's linkedin.com slash results. Terms and conditions apply. LinkedIn, the place to be, to be.
As summer winds down, let your imagination soar by listening on Audible. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, new ways of thinking. With Audible, there's more to imagine when you listen.
And speaking of listening, you can listen to the best-selling science fiction thriller Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir right now on the Audible app and traverse the galaxy in a desperate last-chance mission along with astronaut Ryland Grace, all from the comfort of your living room.
As an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their entire catalogue. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. That's audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. From Wondery, I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford. And this is British Scandal. ♪
So in last week's episode, we saw the end of a beautiful friendship between Stephen Ward and Christine Keeler. He sabotaged her big newspaper exclusive, Her Kiss and Tell, about the affair with Jack Profumo, which cost her so much money and famously a house for a mum. Yes, but he had so little choice because he's got Profumo applying huge amounts of pressure to him and he's trying to protect his own status within high society. Stephen's about to find out, though, that he's not
quite as cosy with the British establishment as you'd like to think. Those guys do look after their own. This is episode four, Get Stephen. First of April, 1963, London. Christine Keeler steps out of a taxi outside the Old Bailey. She poses for the Assemble News reporters and paparazzi. She's come straight there from Vidal Sassoon's hair salon. Sporting the latest Mary Quant dress, Christine looks like a Hollywood starlet, a far cry from the scruffy teen who arrived in the capital three and a half years ago.
Christina's lapping up the attention. The rumours about her affair with Profumo have made her famous. But today isn't just a photo opportunity. She's been summoned to explain why she didn't show up at Johnny Edgecombe's trial. And that's Johnny Edgecombe who tried to shoot her in an earlier episode? Yes, so she was the key witness, but she ran off to Madrid, if you remember. Now she has to face the music. She stands up in court.
Not again. What's he doing here? He's still stalking her and incredibly, he's still out there. He's still at large. Christine! Christine!
It takes five officers to drag him away. Christine jumps into a taxi, slamming the door on the chaos outside. As it speeds away, she buries her head in her hands and sobs. All the money and fame in the world can't rid her of Lucky. He's never going to leave her alone, not unless she makes him. 4th April 1963, Cavendish Square, London. At his consulting rooms, Stephen says goodbye to a well-heeled regular.
Before she leaves, she insists Stephen put her next appointment in the diary. He's happy to oblige, managing to fit her in between the American ambassador and Prince Philip.
Stephen's glad work is busy. It distracts him from the loss of Christine from his life. Or at least, it pays for the distraction of clubs and parties full of fun. By which you mean orgies? If you must insist on calling them that, yeah. Is there another name for an orgy that I'm not aware of? What do you call them, Alice, when you're there? Tuesday night, baby. Stephen hears voices from outside. At the window, he sees a smartly dressed man talking to his patient.
Stephen's been around the block enough to know a plain-clothed detective when he sees one. He rushes downstairs. By the time Stephen's outside, the officer has disappeared. Stephen catches his patient up, asking who she was talking to just now. He said he was a police officer. He asked me a few rather personal questions. The woman blushes, unable to meet Stephen's eye. It's not for me to discuss how you spend your private time, Mr Ward. Now it's Stephen's turn to blush. I can't tell you how sorry I am.
It's fine, really. Do you know, I've just remembered I may be busy next Thursday. Perhaps we could postpone my appointment. I'll let you know when's convenient. As the day goes on, it gets worse. More patients are questioned, more cancellations. Enough is enough. Stephen goes straight down to the police station. I wonder if I might see one of your senior detectives. Before long, Stephen is shaking hands with Chief Inspector Samuel Herbert.
He's careful to be as polite as possible, as befits someone of his good name and professional standing. It's come to my attention that one of your officers has been taking an interest in my patients. I wondered if I might be of help with anything? Not at the moment, Mr Ward. If we need to speak to you, we'll be in touch. Stephen smiles stiffly. He knows better than to push. Until the police reveal more, all he can do is put up and shut up. But something's very wrong. He's going to have to do some detective work of his own.
13th April 1963. At Cliveden, Bill Astor paces the house's grand drawing room. And this is Lord Astor, right? Stephen Ward's best mate and owner of the Cliveden estate. And it's the grand setting where Christine Keeler first met Jack Profumo. And where Stephen's rented a cottage from Bill for peanuts since the early 1950s.
Oh, swirl it around your mouth, man. Savour the flavour. Don't drink it and eat, you maniac. Thank you for coming so quickly. I do appreciate it.
Stephen's smile fades. Bill stares at his feet, unsure where to start. I was visited earlier by Detective Inspector Herbert from the Metropolitan Police. He asked me some rather embarrassing questions. Questions like, does your mate like massive orgies? Stephen butts in. Bill, I'm so sorry. It's a very odd business. But I've been assured their inquiries are just routine. Bill turns and looks out of the window. This is harder than he thought.
"'The man asked for the names of all the women I've slept with over the past few years, "'whether I'd paid them money, whether I'd met them through you. "'The flat in Fulham where Christine and Mandy lived for a while. "'They know I paid the rent for it. "'I realise how embarrassing this must be for you. "'We must deal with it, of course. "'You obviously must know people who can have a word in the right ear. "'I'm sorry, Stephen. "'I think you misunderstand why I've asked you here. "'I'm going to need you to give up the cottage.'
Ward looks winded, but he recovers himself quickly. Too much of a gentleman to complain. He nods. And I wonder, could you return the keys in such a way as to make it seem like you acted on your own initiative? I'd hate for anybody to think you were forced out. Despite that being exactly what's happened. Right. Stephen looks down, his face a mask. I understand. I'll do that as soon as possible. There's a good chap. Bill shakes Stephen's hand and guides him to the door.
Of course, I'll arrange for compensation of your expenses over the coming months. £5,000, that should cover it. Bill knows Stephen would have preferred his support than money, but he simply can't risk his reputation. From now on, Stephen Ward is on his own.
Important question. Five grand back then, what's that in today's money? Let me just put that into my little old money calculator. About £88,000. Cha-ching. I'd have that over a friend. Joking, I'm joking, I'm joking. How much? Depends which friend, actually. Okay, have you got a friend you'd get rid of for £88,000? I've got the one in mind, yeah. Okay, you're looking at me really deep in the eyes.
And Paula is...? Right. Thanks for that. And now to her brother, who turns out to be another man with a violent temper.
Christine comes out of the bathroom. I'm fine. I've had worse. Your brother doesn't scare me. I can take care of myself. Paula avoids meeting Christine's eye. Well, he has just had a drink. He doesn't like being talked to like that. Paula searches the fridge for something cold to put on Christine's swollen eye socket. I just want to forget about it. A bit of makeup's all I need.
I can't handle how normalised all this violence is. I want to go back in time and find these people. Yeah, this is not liberated 1960s Britain that we celebrate, is it? Within hours, Christine is dressed up for a night out with Paula and a couple of her male friends. But just as the group leave, Lucky Gordon is there. He lunges at Christine. How is this guy still walking the streets? Lucky kicks her in the chest until she's on the ground. Her friends wade in and pull him off her.
Paula shouts out of the window that the police are on their way. Lucky sprints off. The men help Christine back into the house, but then they're more worried about the police. They plead with her to leave their names out of it. Once again, Christine's on her own.
An hour later, in an interview room at the station, Christine tells Chief Inspector Herbert what happened. She leaves out any mention of the men who were there. That's quite a shine a lucky gave you, Christine. Christine had forgotten about the black eye. She realises pinning this on Lucky is the best chance of getting the police to actually do something. So she doesn't correct his assumption. Yes, it was so painful when Lucky did it.
She asks the officers if they're done. Not quite. We need to talk to you about Stephen Ward. Christine is puzzled. What on earth does Stephen have to do with Lucky? When you and Mandy Rice-Davis were living at Stephen's flat, what was in it for him? What money did he get from all your visitors? He didn't get any. Let's not beat around the bush, Christine. We need proof Ward was making money immorally. You need Lucky Gordon out of your life for good.
But right now, I can't guarantee we can make these charges stick. Christine and Stephen have had their ups and downs, but she's never wanted to harm him. But this is a matter of her own safety now. Christine makes a decision. OK, what do you want to know? Christine, tell them everything. Ryan Reynolds here from Intmobile. With the price of just about everything going up during inflation, we thought we'd bring our prices down.
down. So to help us, we brought in a reverse auctioneer, which is apparently a thing. Mint Mobile, unlimited premium wireless. How did it get 30, 30, how did it get 30, how did it get 20, 20, 20, how did it get 20, 20, how did it get 15, 15, 15, 15, just 15 bucks a month? Sold! Give it a try at mintmobile.com slash switch. $45 up front for three months plus taxes and fees. Promo rate for new customers for limited time. Unlimited more than 40 gigabytes per month. Slows. Full terms at mintmobile.com.
Make this new school year an opportunity for your kids to learn important life skills with Greenlight. Greenlight is a debit card and money app for families where kids learn how to save, invest, and spend wisely while parents keep an eye on kids' money habits. Greenlight also helps families get into their fall routine with a chores feature that lets parents assign chores and pay kids allowance when they check them off. Get your first month free at greenlight.com slash wondery. greenlight.com slash wondery. ♪
It's a month later, May 1963, at the House of Commons. Stephen Ward enters a wood-panelled office. The Prime Minister's personal private secretary, Timothy Bly, sits waiting behind a large desk. He strikes an imposing figure as he gestures to Stephen to sit in the chair opposite.
Ward clears his throat. I find myself in need of your assistance. He's had a hellish week. The police have continued to doorstep his patients. He's also heard rumours that they've applied pressure on Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davis to make statements against him.
He needs to end this before he loses his business and even more friends. I've never had any dealings with the police before now, no argument with them at all, but this is harassment, pure and simple. I wondered if the PM's office could do anything to encourage the Met to drop the case. A word in the right ear, perhaps. Bly appears shocked at the suggestion.
Stephen finds himself shaking. His usually calm expression leaves him. He looks Bly dead in the eye, desperate. Bly darkens.
It sounds a lot like you're trying to blackmail the PM's office into dropping a police investigation. No, no, no, no. Of course, I would never. Bly interrupts. The PM has spoken to Jack Profumo and he's satisfied with the denial of any affair. As for your problem with the police, there's nothing the government can do. I will, however, have to report this conversation to the Prime Minister. Too late, Stephen realises what a waste of time this was.
The connections that once served him so well are now conspiring to destroy him. He forces himself to say a polite farewell to Bly. Striding away from Westminster, he's filled with rage at the injustice of it all. At home, Stephen takes out his finest writing paper. He's going to contact every powerful person he can. He'll expose Profumo for the liar he is and present his side of the story. He begins writing the first letter to the leader of the opposition, Harold Wilson.
27th May 1963, West London. Christine pours herself a fresh gin and tonic. She's lost count of the number she's had tonight, but she's sure this won't be her last. The stress of the past few weeks has driven her to it. I wish I had sophisticated drinks tastes like these people. I'd just have ten lagers and order a pizza. Matt reclined in his lazy boy, covered in spaghetti hoops. He died as he lived.
Christine's been interviewed by the police over 15 times. On each occasion, she's been asked to put her name to more and more dubious statements about Stephen. She's gone along with it, desperate to make the charge against Lucky Stick. Ward may have hurt her in the past, but Christine feels guilty about how their friendship has ended up.
Even when Stephen sabotaged the pictorial newspaper deal, it wasn't so bad. In no small part because her new manager, Robin Drury, has got her an even better deal with the news of the world worth £23,000.
And that was then, so what's that in today's money? OK, I'm good at this. About £410,000. You couldn't be able to buy a mum about 500 houses. Oh, my God. Why get one big one when you can get just loads everywhere? Christine could retire on that alone, but Robin's come up with another money spinner, a book about Christine's life. And tonight she's agreed to tell him all her stories.
We're sending the guy round, make sure, Christine, promise me you'll be wasted. Ideal conditions.
She tells him everything. The affair with Jack Profumo, the sex parties with Ward, the prominent men she and Mandy slept with. Men like Douglas Fairbanks Jr. The very same. When she gets to the most recent part of the story about Lucky, she's so drunk she doesn't think to hide the truth. Christine tells all about the witnesses who hid from view when the police arrived at Paula's. She explains about Paula's brother giving her the black eye earlier in the day.
It's only in the early hours of the morning that Robin announces they'll need to pay a friend of his £15,000 to ghostwrite the book. What? Christine is appalled. Since when? She thought they were writing it together. Robin argues he's already promised his friend the money. Christine is adamant. It's my life. That makes it my decision. Forget the book and burn those tapes.
I'm not sure that guy is going to burn those tapes, you know. Matt, you're such a cynic. Why would you say that? When has a man ever let her down? It's June the 4th, Venice. Jack Profumo stands on the terrace of their white-stoned villa, watching his wife Valerie pouring herself an iced water. They only arrived yesterday, but already Jack is feeling more relaxed than he has in months. This holiday is just what he needed. Brace yourself, Jackie boy. British scandal, not great previous for holidays being relaxing. No, no.
You stay there, darling. I'll get it. Isn't a man allowed to enjoy a holiday anymore? Who do you think he is, Dominic Raab?
Brooke's tone is deadly serious. The PM has agreed to have the Lord Chancellor launch an investigation into your association with Ward and Keeler. Jack sits down. He needs a moment to take this in. He had no choice, Jack. Labour have been piling on the pressure. The questions won't end. They're going to keep coming. Jack thought he was in the clear. Yes, he'd heard about the police sniffing around Ward, but he hoped that would be the end of it. That's why he thought he could finally take a few days off.
But too many people know about his affair. Other members of the establishment will fear having their own dirty laundry exposed by Keeler and Ward. Jack doesn't have to ask Brooke what the PM wants him to do. He already knows. Okay, Henry, I understand. But before I do anything else, I must tell Valerie. Jack slowly makes his way to the terrace. He sits on the end of Valerie's sun lounger. He tells her everything. Valerie is silent, her expression emotionless.
Then she places a hand on his. Go home and tell the Prime Minister everything. Hang on, so she's not going to dump him? I know, I know. Well, it's kind of the same for Valerie Profumo and for Christine Keeler. They're in these destructive relationships with these men, but they have all the power, they have the money, they have the social standing, so they're sort of trapped. It would be great, though, if she just said, Jack, sod off. That would be ideal.
Jack sits down and writes his resignation letter to the PM. And do you have a copy? I luckily do. Dear Prime Minister, you will recollect that on March 22nd, I made a personal statement. At that time, rumour had charged me with assisting in the disappearance of a witness and with being involved in some possible breach of security. In my statement, I said there'd been no impropriety in this association.
To my very deep regret, I have to admit that this was not true and that I misled you and my colleagues and the House. I've been guilty of a grave misdemeanour and despite the fact there's no truth whatsoever in the other charges, I cannot remain a member of your administration nor of the House of Commons. Now there will be no more lies. Jack promises Valerie that. With the exception of any inquiries he's obliged to speak at, he'll never mention Christine Keeler again.
Jack only hopes his actions haven't caused the government damage. Politicians don't lie. They don't have affairs with call girls. Jack knows that whatever harm this may have done to his personal life, the impact on the British government may be far greater. And your name, Jack, has become a byword for scandal and filth. Quite the legacy. Three days later, at the Old Bailey, Christine paces the foyer.
She's here for Lucky Gordon's assault trial. No details on her outfit this time. Gutted. When she was at the Old Bailey, it was like a fashion parade. I'll try and find out for you. Let me know what she accessorised with, please, Alice. This morning, she gave evidence against him, repeating the claims she made to police about Lucky causing her black eye. But there's a problem. Lucky recognised the two men who were there that night. They're from his neighbourhood. He even knows their names.
As part of his defence, he's stating that Christine lied about him giving her the black eye. If the police find these missing witnesses, he can prove it. Now Christine panics. She's committed perjury. She decides to come clean to DI Herbert. It's the best chance she has of minimising the damage. About those people Lucky claims were present, I... But Herbert cuts her off. Lucky Gordon's a dangerous man, Christine. We need to get him off the streets, by any means.
You don't have to worry about anyone coming out of the woodwork to support him. Right, so the police knew about the witnesses but just weren't bothered about finding them. Well, that's what people think, yeah. They needed power over Keela for their case against Ward and they knew that Christine was so desperate to get Lucky away from her that she'd basically go along with anything. Incredible. The verdict is delivered. Guilty. Lucky is sentenced to three years in prison. He's led from the court and shouts, I'll get you for this!
Christine shudders. She can't shake the fear that this isn't over yet. It's the 8th of June, 1963. At his practice, Stephen Ward whistles to himself as he packs up for the day. Despite his empty appointment book, he's feeling upbeat. The truth about Jack Profumo is out. The Secretary of State for War has resigned. The whole business is over and everyone involved can move on, including him.
He's spent the afternoon ringing former patients, urging them to rebook. He's confident they will. He's also taken steps to clear his name. He appeared on TV a few days ago. The reporter asks if he's been running a call girl racket. He says, no, indeed, I was not. This my friends know, and I think the police will continue their investigation until they're satisfied that I'm in the clear.
Stephen was sure that would encourage the Met to back off. But tonight, as he arrives back at his Wimpole Mews flat, Chief Inspector Herbert is waiting. Stephen Ward, I'm arresting you for living off immoral earnings. You do not need to say anything. Stephen can't believe it. There must be some mistake. His pleas fall on deaf ears. He's cuffed and led to a nearby police car. At the station, Stephen is determined to be absolutely truthful under questioning.
He'll tell the police all about his permissive lifestyle. He has no reason to hide it now. As a consenting adult, he's done nothing wrong. But to his horror, Herbert doesn't even seem interested in hearing his side of the story. We already have all we need from interviews with a large number of witnesses. But surely you need a written statement from me. That won't be necessary. There's nothing Stephen can do. He's charged with living off the immoral earnings of several women, including Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davis.
At the Magistrates' Court, it gets even worse. Thanks to Bill Astor's money, Stephen can afford bail, but it's denied. Stephen is led to the van that will take him to Brixton Prison, where he'll await trial. This is Stephen Ward's worst nightmare. He's lost his good reputation, the lofty position in society he's spent so many years building. He's facing the prospect of losing his liberty. The thought of prison chills him to the bone. He can only hope his establishment friends come through for him.
If they don't, the consequences don't bear thinking about.
Let's face it, we were all that kid. So first call your parents to say I'm sorry, and then download the Instacart app to get delivery in as fast as 30 minutes all school year long. Get a $0 delivery fee for your first three orders while supplies last. Minimum $10 per order. Additional terms apply. ♪
It's the 9th of June. Les Ambassadeurs Club, central London. Smoke fills the air of the large library-style room. A group of men sit in armchairs, puffing on pipes and cigars. This is my kind of scene. These are my guys. Could I have your attention, please? Stephen Ward's solicitor, William Rhys-Davies, has assembled several of Ward's closest friends and patients. His name sounds similar, but he has no relation to Mandy Rhys-Davies. It does sound like someone's saying her name wrong, but no, completely different.
While Bill Astor's money may be going some way to covering his legal fees, what Ward really needs are character witnesses. Among those present is Daily Telegraph editor Sir Colin Coote and the Earl of Dudley Sir Godfrey Nicholson.
I feel obliged to remind you all that Stephen Ward has been good to you in the past. He's taken care of both your professional and, how shall I put it, personal needs. Stephen needs your support in court. Editor of the Daily Telegraph, Colin Coote, stands up.
He looks sheepish. I think I speak for the room when I say we can't jeopardise our good names and careers by appearing as witnesses in Ward's defence. Since Jack Profumo was revealed to be a liar in a cad, Ward's name is synonymous with scandal. Rhys Davis fights on. He tells those assembled that the prosecution's case is weak, based on trumped-up charges that will easily be disproved in court.
Stephen has always been loyal to them. Once again, Coote is the most vocal. What about Lord Astor? He's Ward's closest friend. Will he be a character witness? Rhys Davis looks down at his feet, awkward. Coote has his answer. The mood in the room shifts. If Ward's best friend won't speak up for him, why should they? One by one, Ward's former friends take their leave. Rhys Davis begins to realise just how bleak his client's future might be.
17th June 1963, Westminster. The Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan, puffs on a cigar in a parliamentary drawing room. I will not be brought down by that tart. Well, I hope you are now. Terrible language. Macmillan has spent the last few days fighting for his political life. He never thought a showgirl and her flatmate could threaten to bring the government down. But surviving won't be easy. Since Profumo's resignation, the affair has made headlines all over the world.
Of course it has. It's got everything, hasn't it? Politics, sex, vice, espionage, hypocrisy and some weird osteopath who just sketches in the middle of the room and he's mates with Prince Philip. It almost feels like there should be a series on it. Macmillan hates it. Every country is either laughing at Britain as a nation obsessed with sex or criticising the way its government conducts itself.
The members of his cabinet, once seen as the very embodiment of British respectability, are now a byword for scandal. Macmillan himself has become the target of mockery and satire, at best seen as naive, at worst incompetent. An hour later, he stands up in the House, ready to defend himself at a debate called by the opposition. It's the government's biggest test so far. He stands up at the dispatch box, looking around at his peers earnestly.
What has happened has instilled a deep, bitter and lasting wound. I could not believe that a man could be so foolish, even so wicked, not only to lie to colleagues in the House, but be prepared to issue a writ in respect of a libel which he must know to be true. Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's put to a vote. He wins. But there are 27 abstentions. It's a clear message to Macmillan that his position is irretrievably damaged. Following the vote, he goes into a meeting with senior members of the party...
Macmillan agrees he'll step down as leader, but not yet. He mustn't be seen to be forced out by the Profumo affair. He'll lead the party to victory in the next election, then bow out. Good luck with that, mate. That evening, Macmillan sits in a Commons bar with the same friends he spoke to that morning. My spirit is not broken, but my zest is gone.
June 1963, Mayfair. Later that week, in a swanky hotel room, Christine Keeler looks at the cover of the News of the World with pride. The headline reads, Confessions of Christine. Next to it is a picture of her posing naked astride the back of a chair. So this is the famous chair picture where the chair's the wrong way round and she's sat looking over the back of the chair, sort of legs either side of it. I mean, it changed the way that people sat on chairs. Sweet for yourself. LAUGHTER
The photo was an illusion, just like so much of the last few weeks. Her lies in court to secure Lucky's conviction, her lies to the police over the true nature of her relationship with Stephen. Christine studies the cover of the paper. This is what she wanted.
She's even turned herself into a limited company. That's just smart. Simplifies your finances. She's had offers to appear in Cabaret in Las Vegas, to make Hollywood movies. She's rich, famous, and at last, people are listening to her. Yes, but is she happy, Alice? Matt, didn't you hear she's rich and famous? Fair does, yeah. Toasting herself with a glass of bubbles, Christine goes to answer a knock on her hotel door. It's Robin Drury. That's her manager, right? Er, he was, but then she sacked him after their row over the book.
Christine answers the door. What do you want? The answer is not a big surprise. Money. The tapes I made of you spilling your guts? I didn't burn them. And if you don't pay me the money I'm owed, a copy will be going to the police. Christine thinks quickly. She knows the police won't want to reopen this any more than she will. She slams the door in his face. Before she can think on it further, a call comes through to her room.
It's Clarence Camaccio, one of the missing witnesses who was there when Lucky assaulted her. No! Yep. He tells Christine that the press have found him. They're offering him money to say Christine lied at Lucky's trial. How much would Christine pay him to stay silent? Christine slams down the phone, her head spinning. She hasn't got the money from the news of the world yet. Even if she wanted to buy him off, she can't. She just has to let Drury and Camaccio do their worst and hope she comes out unscathed.
Christine takes another sip of her champagne. It's somehow lost its fizz. The government may have survived Christine's affair with Profumo, but her own future is unclear. And with Stephen Ward's trial still to come, this scandal is far from over. There's so much more to this story than I realised.
This is the fourth episode in our series, The Profumo Affair. If you like our show, please give us a five-star rating and a review and be sure to tell your friends. You can listen to new episodes one week early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app. Subscribe to our channel
Subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, the Wondery app or wherever you're listening right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app to listen for free. In the episode notes, you'll find some links and offers from our sponsors. Please support them by supporting them. You help us offer you this show for free. Another way to support us is to answer a short survey at wondery.com.uk.
A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but all our dramatisations are based on historical research. If you'd like to know more about this story, we especially recommend the books Secrets and Lies, the Autobiography by Christine Keeler with Douglas Thompson and How the English Establishment Framed Stephen Ward by Caroline Kennedy and Philip Knightley. I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Forkley.
She struck him with her motor vehicle. She had been under the influence and then she left him there.
In January 2022, local woman Karen Reed was implicated in the mysterious death of her boyfriend, Boston police officer John O'Keefe. It was alleged that after an innocent night out for drinks with friends, Karen and John got into a lover's quarrel en route to the next location. What happens next depends on who you ask.
Was it a crime of passion? If you believe the prosecution, it's because the evidence was so compelling. This was clearly an intentional act. And his cause of death was blunt force trauma with hypothermia. Or a corrupt police cover-up. If you believe the defense theory, however, this was all a cover-up to prevent one of their own from going down. Everyone had an opinion.
And after the 10-week trial, the jury could not come to a unanimous decision. To end in a mistrial, it's just a confirmation of just how complicated this case is. Law and Crime presents the most in-depth analysis to date of the sensational case in Karen. You can listen to Karen exclusively with Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify.
