House Detectives - the Lowdown!

 

I was a House Detective  by Dev Collans and Stewart Sterling

published 1954

 

 

“Forget everything you’ve heard about detectives. On this job you won’t do any of the things plain-clothes men are supposed to do. No shadowing suspects. No brow-beating stool pigeons. No chasing of crooks. A detective has to catch crooks. You’re supposed to stop ‘em before they do anything crooked.”

Well.  Earlier this week I posted on an excellent book set in a NY hotel in the 1940s: Dead Wrong by Stewart Sterling. In my meanderings I said this: ‘our narrator and hero is Gilbert Vine, the house detective. I have often idly wondered about this role: does it still exist, did they ever exist in the UK? I presume they were a real thing though obviously I have only seen them in books.’

Discussion on this continued in the comments – I said ‘What did they DO all day - lurk in the lobby trying to spot wrong'uns? I wonder if they were aiming to stop immorality - check people weren't with people they weren't married to, or sneaking into rooms late at night. Morality guardians. But it seems unlikely. (and don't hotels just want money, don't much care what you are up to?)’

If I’d had to guess who would come to the rescue here, I would have been correct: noted blogfriend Shay sent me a link to this book – it’s here. I Was a House Detective is exactly what it sounds like - the memoirs of a house detective. Stewart Sterling (ie the author of the original crime book) is a co-author of the book – I believe he is in effect the ghost writer. The house detective gave himself a false name and obviously told his marvellous stories to Sterling, who pushed them into shape for the book.

I read the book straightaway, over a couple of hours, and it is tremendous stuff, highly enjoyable, as well as answering all my questions. And letting me know that they worked very hard…   Even the list of chapter titles brought me joy:

And gives a good clue as to what the house detective got up to.

Collans and Sterling explain everything that is going on, and it is fascinating. 

The hotel lobby was the centre of operations -  very busy, full of people. People came to sleep in the comfortable chairs, and ‘a drowsing person was duck soup for pickpockets or bag-grabbers.’

He also had to watch out for ‘Loungers loafers and larrikins who hung round annoying and sometimes swindling desirable patrons.’

In a large hotel, there could be 10,000 people a day coming and going – most of them not staying, but using the facilities, meeting people, having a drink or lunch.

There were always pickpockets around, and also con artists using distraction to steal bags.

Then there are guests trying to cheat the hotel – there were many different versions of people trying to have more people staying in the room than were paid for. Guests want to get away without paying the bill, or cash a check which won’t be honoured.

And he also has to watch out for dishonesty in the hotel staff, though he says that is very rare. Guests are always ready to blame staff, and accuse them of this and that, but Collans tends to hold fire and says he was usually correct.  

Very much of his time, Collans is very judgemental about some (but not all) sectors of the gay community – we will move swiftly on.

His other views are also very much of the time - 1940s and 1950s - but also simple and often surprisingly non-judgemental. He has his job to do, other people have their own interests at heart.

This is his straightforward take on gender differences in a hotel in the 1950s: ‘Women without men are always under surveillance in a hotel; the younger they are the closer they’re watched. If they’re respectable, they have to be protected against molestation. If they’re not, or if they can be considered borderline cases, they’re under practically continuous suspicion.’

He reckons to have learned a lot about people, and can pick up cues and clues in all kinds of fascinating ways – and he also generously says it is less about being Sherlock Holmes and more about teamwork. The chambermaids and bellboys have a very good eye as to what is going on, and are quick to warn management of something out of the ordinary.

But his perceptions on how to, for example, tell whether a couple is married or not are fascinating. Married couples are more likely to open their suitcases in front of the bellboy: and they also want to get out and about and see the sights. He looks for a disparity in the smartness of the couple's clothes.

And then there’s the big question – does the house detective actually care if a couple aren’t married?

‘Security men have to concentrate on the sex angles which annoy and disturb others or which may in some way damage the hotel’s reputation’.  ie if you were quiet and straightforward about it you were fine. Sneaking an extra person into a single room was a money issue, not a sexual one.

And he would be concerned in the hotel got a reputation for prostitutes. He says there were clues here too - they walk too fast, and don’t say goodnight to the elevator operator. 

Staff are always on the lookout for people who are not residents – but then obviously there is the chance of offending an important client by asking the wrong questions. An interesting point from a time of very different communication methods – any respectable resident, particularly a woman, will stop at the desk to ask for messages if she has been out: absence of this is a giveaway.

There is another layer of sexual activity – when giant conventions come to town, many men will be looking for a bit of out-of-hours fun. And here they tend not to use straightforward sex workers, but what Collans calls Convention Cuties. These are young women available for one night only: civilians, you might say, or in the magic words of a Louise Brooks or a Dodie Smith, ‘just hanging onto their amateur status’. They didn’t ask for, or take, money directly – but were ‘looked after’ later by shadowy representatives of the companies involved. They were making a bit of extra money on the side. I loved this side-eye of this kind of event:

‘One girl told me, after I’d had to break up a party that was getting too boisterous: ‘Why I never even took my hat off!’ Few do take of their hats… or anything else… right away.’’

This book had SUCH fascinating details of life, both in the hotel and out of it, and it was very funny. Collans came over as a nice man, very good-hearted, who helped people out where he could. 

I am so glad I read it, and very grateful, as always, to Shay. (And I'm not even  mentioning her favourite story, about the college girls who threw their panties at the sailors. All in a day's work.)

Palm Court menu cover from the NYPL. 

 Obviously there was a lot in the book about whether women are respectable, and whether you can tell. Three women in a hotel lobby in Oregon – I think you can tell here. From Flickr.