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Hello, Matthew. Hello, Alice. So I just wanted to mention that there's a part of today's story that involves sexual violence, so just a warning. Yes, it's an important part of the story. We can't tell you this story without including this, so just a heads up. It's September 1962, Notting Hill. Walking alone in the darkness, Christine Keeler hears footsteps behind her. She stops, almost too scared to look around. When she does, there's no one there.
Then, just as Christine slows her pace and relaxes a little, she hears a familiar voice. Christine, wait! The hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It wasn't her imagination after all. She turns to face him. She knows who it is. I've told you, leave me alone! I can't do that, Christine. I love you.
Christine doesn't know what to say, how to reason with him. She's tried being nice, being tactful. She's tried pleading with him. None of it has worked. Maybe some home truths will. I don't love you. I will never love you. It's never going to happen. I hate you. She holds Lucky Gordon's pitiful gaze. He lunges forward, grabbing her and pushing her to the ground. He punches her in the head. Christine can only scream until her lungs hurt.
Lucky stops, takes in Christine as she sobs, seemingly stunned, as if only now realising what he's done. It's all too familiar to Christine. This isn't the first time Lucky's hurt her. She has no doubt it won't be the last. In an instant, he sprints away into the night, forcing herself up from the ground. Christine makes a decision. She's going to have to protect herself. But physically, she's no match for this man. She needs something more.
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Now, Matt, it's safe to say that the Profumo affair was the first political scandal of its kind. It combined illicit sex and a threat to national security. What a hybrid. Yes, and...
A pervy osteopath with links to high society. Yes, Stephen Ward, who introduced 19-year-old Christine Keeler to the Minister for War, John Profumo. They then began an affair and Keeler also had a one-night stand with a Russian spy. We've all been there. If I had a pound. And we're only on the second part of the story, so there must be so much more scandal to go. Matthew, you cannot even imagine. This is episode two, The Smoking Gun.
It's October 1961, Notting Hill, London. Christine Keeler and Stephen Ward are in a car with Stephen's friend Vasco Lazzolo, a society portrait painter. They're parked outside the El Rio cafe. Christine feels uncomfortable. So just to be clear, Notting Hill back then hadn't yet been gentrified. It wasn't the way that Richard Curtis portrayed it in his film. No, it's not the great bookshops and coffee shops that Hugh Grant was kind of...
about it, where you don't get much change from £2 million for a little flat. This is the Notting Hill of slum landlords. This is a real working class neighbourhood at this time. Stephen and Vasco are arguing over which of them should go in to try and score some marijuana. I can't do it. Any dealer will think I'm undercover police. And they won't think I am. As the pair bicker, Christine rolls her eyes. I'll do it.
The two men look at her, surprised. Christine stares back at them, deadly serious. She knows it's reckless, but that's how she feels right now. Her fling with Jack Profumo is all but over. She misses the buzz she got from it. Besides, she's curious to try weed, too. You only live once. Yeah, so why not stink of weed, lose all motivation and live life of crippling paranoia? Christine jumps out of Stephen's car and marches into the back of the El Rio.
It's like entering a different world. A squalid dive heaving with gyrating bodies. The smell of dope hangs heavy in the air. Right, I've changed my mind. You've talked me into it now. Give me a spliff. It sounds so natural when you say it. Spliff! A doobie. A big carrot. The clientele take her in with suspicious eyes. Keeping her nerves in check, she fights through the crowd regardless. Suddenly, she's face to face with a balding tall man. He sports a neatly trimmed goatee beard and a loud shirt.
Christine turns on the charm. I have some friends waiting. We wondered, would you sell us some pot? No idea how much it costs, Christine puts a 10-shilling note in his hand. The man takes the note from Christine and disappears into a back room. When the man returns, he puts a piece of what looks like old grass into her hand. But as she tries to leave, the man blocks her way. You're not going to stay, baby? I can't. My friends are waiting. The man won't give up. He insists he wants to see her again.
Christine hesitates, but she figures it's been a night of firsts. Why not give this guy a chance? If nothing else, he'll take her mind off Jack. She gives him her phone number, then heads back to Stephen and Vasco. They're both delighted with her work. Back at Stephen's, the trio giggle as they smoke the pot. Yeah, until the nausea kicks in. Thank you, Matt, for doing the assembly for Year 8 today. Yeah, don't do weed, kids. Stick to podcasts, yeah? LAUGHTER
For the first time in weeks, Christine's having fun. And she's got a new admirer. Things are looking up. His name says it all. Lucky. Lucky Gordon. Oh, no. A few nights later, in Notting Hill, Christine sits with Lucky Gordon in a seedy cafe. On the phone, Lucky said he was taking her to a party. But now he seems more interested in getting her back to his flat to see some jewellery he's stolen.
Christine had been looking forward to a fun night out, but she can't see the harm. Lucky's behaved like the perfect gentleman until now. He speaks softly. He's calm, gentle. She feels comfortable with him. But once they're back at the flat, Lucky's demeanour changes. He pushes Christine into his bedroom, closes the door, and pulls a small knife out of his pocket. The hours that follow are the most terrifying of Christine's life. This is...
so hard to hear and think about. It's really, really difficult. So he attacks her. There's a brutal attack and he rapes her and he locks her in the room. And it's important that people know that. It's important that we say what happened. Christine's not sure how much time has passed when Lucky comes back into the room. He seems to have softened. He's almost pathetic in his need for reassurance. We could be happy together, Christine. Don't you think so?
Yes, maybe. But, she tells him, she has to call Stephen. He'll be worried about her not coming home. Lucky still won't let Christine leave the room, but brings the telephone to her on a long extension lead. Stephen answers. I'm sorry I didn't come home all night. I'm at Lucky's. As she hoped, Stephen seems to sense something's wrong from her tone of voice.
He loudly tells her to come home immediately. She replaces the receiver, turns to Lucky. You heard him. He's like a strict father sometimes. If I don't go, he'll be over here to get me. He doesn't know where I live. He can find out from the cafe. He might even bring the police. You promise you'll come back? Yes, of course. I promise. It takes all of Christine's composure to walk to the front door rather than run. To look at Lucky calmly, even adoringly,
to keep up the pretense. When she's out on the street, she finds herself running like her life depends on it. Racing through the streets of Notting Hill, Christine resolves never to get mixed up with a man like Lucky Gordon ever again. November 1961, Murray's Cabaret Club, London. Christine's never been here as a customer before, only as a showgirl. Watching the topless girls on stage from her discreet corner table, she ponders just how far she thought she'd come.
Is her life any better now than it was back then? She looks at the fading bruises on her arm from Lucky's grip. She may not be performing for men anymore, but one way or another, she's still at the mercy of them. I find it so sad the way she's treated. It's absolutely devastating. Christine's brought out of her thoughts by her companion asking if she'd like another drink. It's Jack Profumo. Oh, so he's back. He's back. Christine didn't want to call him, but she didn't know what else to do.
Lucky hasn't backed off since the attack. In fact, his pursuit of her has become more incessant. He's found out where she lives and he sometimes turns up on her doorstep begging to be with her. Stephen has tried talking to him, but he keeps coming back. That's horrific. So Christine has turned to Jack out of desperation. She's hoping if she can reignite their affair, he'll put her up in her own flat as he once suggested. Then she can be free of Lucky and all the bad memories that come with him.
I don't want any more drinks. Let's go somewhere more private. Jack is happy to. He drives them to a quiet road and parks up. Then he tells Christine how much he's missed her. Back in his arms, Christine feels safe again, protected. She tells Jack about Lucky and his stalking, how scared she's been. She mentions the idea of the flat, and Jack agrees it's a good idea.
Later, as Jack buttons up his shirt, she senses a shift in his manner. He says he'll sort something out and that he'll be in touch. Yeah, we all know what that means. But his schedule is quite busy over the coming months. Christine knows a brush off when she hears one. Tonight was just about sex for Jack. He can't, or won't, give her the security she craves. If she wants a man who really loves her and who can protect her from Lucky, she'll have to look elsewhere.
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It's January 1962, Dolphin Square, Westminster. Christine stands in the centre of her sitting room, catching her breath. She overturns tables and chairs, throwing some magazines in the air. She empties the waste paper basket all over the floor. It's pretty cathartic. Plus, she won't be the one to clear it up.
Right on time, he arrives. A barrister by profession, the man quickly gets naked. Then Christine produces a broomstick and repeatedly whips his bottom with it, telling him he's a lousy maid. When she's done, she orders him to clean up this mess before leaving the room with a smirk on her face. When Christine returns 30 minutes later, the room is spotless and the barrister has gone. But on the coffee table, he's left the most important thing.
A bundle of banknotes. Delighted, Christine calls her best friend, Mandy Rice Davies. Party at my flat tonight. Spread the word. So she's got her own flat. So this is positive. Yeah, this feels like a new phase. It wasn't hard for Christine to find men who wanted to be treated like the barrister. She'd met enough of them through Stephen over the past year. Since she started running this racket, life has been one continuous party. And Christine's loving it.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
But the look on his face tonight tells her he's in one of his crazy moods. Within minutes, he's spotted the fire axe on the back of her front door. He rips it down and brandishes it at anyone who dares approach him. Get him out of there. One by one, the guests make their escape, leaving only Christine and a female friend. These people are not good friends. They've just gone and left her there with him. Lucky keeps them there until his cigarettes run out.
Then takes Christine's door keys and goes to buy more. Christine's had enough. She's tried being nice to him. She wants him out of her life. Seizing her chance, Christine calls the police. By the time Lucky returns, they're waiting. They bundle him into the police car. Christine can only pray he's finally out of her life for good. I cannot tell you how desperate I am never to hear about him ever again.
It's September 1962, Devonshire Street, central London. When she walks into her friend Paula's flat, Christine can't wait to kick back with a drink or two. Paula, like Christine, knows how to enjoy herself. But tonight, Christine has no desire to go out. She's had a long day entertaining clients. Men are strictly off the agenda. So Christine's thrown when she walks into Paula's sitting room. Christine, this is Johnny Edgecombe.
Johnny leans in and kisses her on the cheek. Christine finds herself blushing. Hi, Christine. Johnny's friends call him The Edge. It's not a very reassuring nickname, is it? This is my friend The Edge, and his friend, The Brink. Johnny's quite the charmer. They talk, and soon the conversation turns to Lucky Gordon and the trouble he's been causing. Christine dropped the charges. Despite everything that's happened to her, she's just too forgiving.
And Lucky's stalked her continuously ever since. Christine's been so scared she even asked Stephen Ward for her old room back at Wimpole Muse. But Stephen told her it wasn't available. I wish Stephen would just help her out. Exactly, and no Profumo on the scene either.
Christine's been very much on her own. But now, Johnny tells her he knows Lucky. If she wants, he could have a word, warn Lucky off. Stick with me, Christine. I'll take care of you. Once again, she's enthralled to a man. But she's convinced that this time, this time, he will be her saviour, not another letdown. It's two weeks later in Notting Hill. Christine bangs on the door of Johnny Edgecombe's flat. She's in a state, shaking uncontrollably.
As he opens the door, she rushes inside. Where you been, baby? I was worried. Johnny takes in Christine's bruised face. He looks horrified. This was him, right? So Johnny having a word with Lucky didn't work? Correct. If anything, it's made Lucky even worse. Johnny's furious. He makes for the door, but Christine holds him back. No, you don't have to fight my battles anymore. Christine opens her bag. She tips a Luger gun and two magazines of ammunition onto the bed.
Johnny stares at her. You ain't serious, Chris. It's for protection. What else can I do? Do you know how many years you could get for just having that? You can't carry that around.
Johnny picks up the gun and ammunition. He sticks it all in a drawer. Then he takes Christine into his arms, holds her close. You don't need it, Chris. You got me. Maybe after everything that's happened to her, she just got carried away. Johnny will sort this and then her life will just be one big party. The gun was a stupid idea. Best forget about it.
Sorry to be Mr Spoiler, but this episode is called The Smoking Gun. Sure. And although I'm not a qualified man of the law, I don't think we've seen the last of that gun. I'm saying nothing. 27th of October, 1962, Notting Hill. Christine and Johnny walk into the All-Nighters Club. They're on a mission. Tonight, Christine is determined to put an end to lucky stalking once and for all.
Lucky hasn't let up. Christine can see it's making Johnny increasingly stressed out. His desire to protect her was attractive at first, but now it's becoming an obsession. It's like it's making him feel less of a man. Yep, and what this situation needs is more testosterone. Yeah, more male ego, please, check. So Christine has suggested they come here to confront Lucky together, to calmly but firmly tell him enough is enough. Christine immediately spots Lucky sitting with some friends. He looks right at her, then at Johnny.
The familiar crazed look returning to his eyes. But Christine won't let herself be intimidated. Not with Johnny by her side. She steals herself, takes Johnny's hand. They walk towards Lucky's table. "Lucky, we just want to talk." She pauses and Lucky picks up a nearby chair. Holding it like a weapon, he runs towards her and Johnny. To screams from the crowd, Lucky chases them through the club before throwing the chair at them. It narrowly misses Johnny's head.
Oh no.
What did you make me do? He's getting the law. We have to hide. Why did you make me do this? She didn't make him do it. Why are they always blaming her?
Christine pulls away from him, terrified. She runs as fast as she can. She hears Johnny cry her name, but she doesn't stop. She keeps running until her lungs ache. Eventually, Christine finds herself at Stephen's door. As he opens it, she practically falls inside. One bath later, wrapped in a blanket, Christine tells him what happened. "'It's all right, little baby. You can stay here. We'll make it work. It's not your fault.'"
Christine is so relieved to be back at Stephen's. But now she has two violent men in her life and no idea what either of them will do next. It's two months later, the 14th of December 1962, Wimpole Muse. Christine is decorating the Christmas tree. The last couple of months have been the calmest Christine's had in a long time. Since the knife fight in Notting Hill, Lucky's pretty much left her alone. Johnny's phoned regularly, wanting her to speak to the police on his behalf.
But Christine was so shaken up by what he did that night, she wants nothing more to do with him. Even Jack Profumo is starting to feel like a distant memory. From the bedroom, Mandy Rice-Davis calls out to her. Have you seen my fur hat? The one Peter bought me. I can't find it anywhere. As Mandy enters the room, Christine sees she has tears in her eyes. It's all right. We'll find it. Christine has seen a different side of Mandy these past few weeks. Last month, Mandy's longtime lover, Peter Rackman, died suddenly of a heart attack.
Mandy was devastated, so much so she tried to take an overdose two days later. It seems Mandy cared for Peter far more than anyone realised. Stephen promised Mandy's mum he'd keep an eye on her, so now she's staying at Wimpole Muse too. But Mandy still has her bad days, so Christine is taking her Christmas shopping. She reckons a bit of retail therapy is just what her and Mandy need. They're both about to leave when they hear a taxi pull up outside. Then a familiar voice calls out. It's Johnny.
Christine, I need to speak to you. Answer me, Christine. Christine and Mandy exchange alarmed looks. Christine tells Mandy to say she's not there. Mandy goes over to the window, pushes it open and sticks her head out. She's at the hairdresser. She left a few minutes ago. I'm not going anywhere until she talks to me. Mandy glares at Christine. What now? Knowing he means it, Christine goes to the window. It's over, Johnny. You need to leave. If you don't, I'll call the police.
You'd really do that to me? All the trouble I'm in is because of you. You're destroying me, Christine. But Christine is having none of it and they move away from the window. The past is staying firmly in the past. Jesus, Christine, he's got a gun. It's the Luger. Christine left it at Johnny's place. She rushes back to the window, sees that Johnny has it in his hand and he's shooting at the front door. Spotting her, Johnny points the gun straight up at the window and fires.
Mandy and Christine scream. Johnny shoots again. He throws the gun away and jumps back into the waiting taxi. But the taxi's been there the whole time. Back in the flat, Christine and Mandy lay on the floor. They're not hurt, but they're terrified. Christine's association with Lucky and Johnny has threatened her life. And it's about to stir up a whole heap of trouble for Jack Profumo and the British government too.
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He asks her to repeat what she just said. Jack Profumo and I were lovers. Which is the least shocking part of this whole story. Christine hadn't intended to talk about Jack today. This meeting was meant to be about Johnny Edgecombe. He was arrested after the shooting at Wimpole Muse, and it's likely Christine will have to testify in court.
So Stephen has arranged for her to see Michael, a patient of his, to help her prepare. At least she's been a bit helpful. Yeah, for Stephen, that's going above and beyond. She hadn't wanted to go. Every time Stephen puts her in the path of a new man, it seems to go pear-shaped. But as soon as Christine arrived, she was glad she came. Eddowes quickly put her at ease. He's sympathetic. He actually really listens to her. Sorry, what did you say? She actually... HE LAUGHS
Once she started talking, she couldn't stop. It all came pouring out in a jumble. Lucky attacking her with an axe, Johnny trying to kill her, Profumo starting their affair, then backing off. When she talks about the affair with Profumo, Edo's eyes practically pop out of his head. You had an affair with a cabinet minister. People say he's going to be the next PM. Mate, she's been shot at and chased with an axe. Did you hear the other bit of the story?
Okay, this is exciting.
It's January 1963, Fleet Street. Christine sits in the headquarters of the Sunday Pictorial. Sunday Pictorial doesn't sound like a big newspaper. Sounds like something from a Dickens book. Yeah, it does actually. Perhaps one of the reasons that later it changes its name to the Sunday Mirror, which you might have heard of.
Christine's friend Paul Gad sits beside her. He arranged this meeting. He's a freelance journalist, so Christine was confident he would know the right people to call. She was spot on. The Pictorial isn't the only paper Paul contacted. He thinks they may even be able to start a bidding war. With a Sunday bugle. But today, Christine has been disappointed. The reaction they're receiving from the Pictorial's editor is muted, to say the least.
The trouble is, Profumo's a millionaire, and while I've no doubt what you're telling me is true, we only have your word. Without proof, Jack Profumo won't hesitate to sue us for libel. Christine looks at Paul for guidance. He nods his head, indicating that she knows what she has to do. Christine reaches into her handbag and takes out one of Jack's letters. It's the one he wrote to break their date back in August. The one that begins, "'Darling.'" Paul's eyes stay on her, urging her to hand it over.
Christine hesitates. Things might not have gone the way she wanted with Jack, but she knows how serious the consequences of this will be for him. It could destroy his marriage, his job. Meh. But then she thinks about how he disappeared when she needed him most, how disposable she was to him, how they had sex in that car and then nothing. Nothing.
Christine has had enough. She sits up straight, her face hardens. She slides the letter across the table. This proof enough for you? The editor picks it up and reads. He looks like he's hit the jackpot. Christine looks at Paul and smiles, giving him the go-ahead to negotiate. If you're not interested, the news of the world is their crime editor has already made us an offer, but obviously we'll go with you if the money's right.
Christine can tell the pictorial editor is panicking now, and they quickly negotiate a fee of £1,000 for her full story with photos. The clincher is their offer to give £200 of the money up front and the rest on publication. Christine's already agreed to give Paul a generous cut, but she'll still be left with more money than she's ever had.
And how much is £1,000 in today's money, Miss Levine? That is 12p. No, I'm joking. It's £17,835. So back then, pretty good. A considerable amount of money.
As the editor's secretary hands Christine a check, she exchanges a gleeful look with Paul. She's survived Lucky's obsessive behavior and Johnny's attempt to shoot her. She's turned her affair with Profumo to her advantage. Now people are going to hear what she has to say the way that she wants to say it. She strides out of that office, her head held high. Christine Keeler's future has never looked brighter. Across town, a very different meeting is taking place.
This one is between former Labour MP John Lewis and the current shadow minister for war, George Whig. John has come here today to pass on some very interesting gossip. It concerns Jack Profumo. At the mention of that name, George is all ears.
John Lewis knew he would be. Every member of the Labour Party knows there's no love lost between George and Jack. John tells George he was at a Murray's Club reunion party over the festive season and how he overheard one of the venue's former showgirls talking to a journalist friend. She was going on about an affair she'd had with none other than Jack Profumo. George barely looks up from his cigar. He sighs.
A showgirl is likely to say all sorts of things. Whether they're true is another matter. John bristles. He's no fool. Obviously, I didn't leave it at that. I said I'd give her legal help. She gave me lots of detail, how they met, where they conducted their liaisons. I taped the whole thing, of course. Her name is Christine Keeler, and she's already known to the police and the press. Her boyfriend tried to shoot her a few weeks back. John can see George is interested.
He pushes. You could bring this up in the Commons. He won't be able to sue you. Jack Profumo's reputation will be all but destroyed. It won't do the Tory government any favours either. But George foresees a problem. It doesn't matter what you have on tape, John. Profumo's sex life isn't a political issue. You know as well as I do that unless his dalliances with this girl affect his work as Minister for War, I can't raise the matter in the House. John smiles. He was keeping the best detail until last.
John explains he had the same thought, so he spoke to Keeler again a couple of days ago. This time, she gave him an added detail. She's also involved with a Russian spy. Eugene Ivanov? The one and only. Seems her flatmate, Stephen Ward, asked Christine to get information from Profumo about nuclear weapons being supplied to Germany. No doubt for this Russian pal of his. Is national security enough of a political issue for you?
George Brighton's. Clearly it is. He pours John a drink and the pair raise a toast to the new year. It's going to be a good one for the Labour Party. Jack Profumo's affair with Christine Keeler looks set to cause an explosion for the British government, the like of which has never been seen before.
This is the second episode in our series, The Perfumer 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 on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, the Wondery app or wherever you're listening right now.
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A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but all of 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 Ford. Wendy Grandeter wrote this episode. Additional writing by Alice Levine and Matt Ford.
Our sound design is by Rich Evans. Script editing by Joseph Lidster. This episode was produced by Rich Ward. Our senior producer is Russell Finch. Our executive producers are Stephanie Jens and Marshall Louis for Wondery. Wondery.
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