‘The Slimes’ were rough. They invariably had sawdust sprinkled on the floor – so useful for soaking up the blood that would undoubtedly be spilled by closing time! – and brass spittoons within expectorating distance of each table. They drew their clientele from the furthest, darkest fringes of society – burglars and fences, prostitutes and their pimps, bank robbers and would-be bank robbers, bookies and con men. When an officer immersed himself in one of these pubs, it was because he had to – because, if he wanted to talk to his snitches and listen to the current criminal gossip, this was the only place to be. ‘The Steams’ were a different matter altogether. There was no uniformity of fixtures and fittings about them. They could be smart or shabby – or on the way up or down, from one state to the other. They could be located on one of the broad city streets, or hidden away down a back alley. What gave them their special character – as with ‘The Slimes’ – was their clientele.
