Let’s start with the original 26th Jan 1949 news story in the Adelaide News, the Sydney Daily Telegraph, the Geraldton Guardian, and the Age:
Melbourne.- Two prominent Melbourne baccarat players who desire to remain anonymous, believe they knew the unknown man in the “Somerton beach body mystery.”
They saw the man’s picture in a Melbourne newspaper and said they thought they recognised him as a “nitkeeper” who worked at a Lonsdale street baccarat school about four years ago. They could not recall his name.
They said the man talked to few people. He was employed at the baccarat school for about 10 weeks, then left without saying why or where he was going.
From a purely Melbourne-centric angle, the appeal for witnesses had only just appeared in the Herald (25 Jan 1949) and the Argus (25 Jan 1949). So it should be clear that the two baccarat players came forward immediately.
A few days ago, I wondered whether the man they had been thinking of might have been George Henry Newman. It’s true that Newman died in 1986, so could not have been the Somerton Man. However, given that people working at baccarat schools were generally younger than the Somerton Man, might the two baccarat players have mistaken George Henry Newman for the Somerton Man?
On balance, I think this is unlikely. Newman’s specific role in the whole baccarat ‘ecology’ was as a motor driver: that is, he would drive customers to and from the baccarat school. And he did that for years, not just for ten weeks.
So the person we’re looking for is someone quite specific and yet quite unusual (because of his age): a 40-year-old Lonsdale Street baccarat school nitkeeper circa 1945.
The annoying thing is that the Victorian police knew everything there was to know about these baccarat schools, but were unable to shut them down because of two specific factors:
- The police had to catch punters while they were actually playing baccarat (and not other legal card games), which was actually quite a lot trickier than it sounds; and
- The baccarat school principals bribed policemen left, right and centre to avoid the schools being shut down.
In the end, Christos Paizes’ long-running baccarat school got closed down courtesy of some kind of mealy-mouthed legal technicality, largely rustled up by Victorian politicians. And Paizes couldn’t really blame the poh-lice for that: they were too busy taking their brown envelopes to actual get him to court. Why would they ever call a halt on such a good thing?
The Missing Evidence
It seems that our well of Lonsdale Street baccarat school-related articles in Trove has now pretty much run dry. So where could we look next?
There is a ton of interesting stuff in the Victorian police archives – the NAA knows what it is, and wants to curate it, but nobody knows where it is. One day, this will come into the light, and perhaps there will be a sudden feeding frenzy from everybody with an interest in historical Melbourne crime. But… that blessed day still seems a way off just yet.
I wish I had found a list of Australian gamblers’ memoirs: anyone around Melbourne in the mid-1940s would have gone to Lonsdale Street, its baccarat Mecca. The closest I got was a series of brief articles in the Melbourne Argus of 1954, describing the memories of Melbourne baccarat school owner Robert Walker. (Incidentally, there’s a nice chapter on knockabouts in the 1986 book “Disorganized Crime”, which might still be available online.) Maybe there are more Aussie gamblers’ memoirs out there, please shout if you find any.
I therefore wonder whether the best thing to do would be to put an ad in a Melbourne newspaper – perhaps the Age, what do you think? – asking any lovely old people for their memories of Melbourne’s baccarat schools in the 1940s. Sounds like a Banker Bet to me… something to consider, anyway. 🙂
Any other suggestions for routes forward?
Try the obvious ..
you know the 40s is now 70-80 years ago? You’d be looking for some OLD people – even if they were teenagers then…..
I think the chances of reasonable memories from then might be a bit slim….
milongal: it only takes one person, just one, and every historical door that’s currently closed to us might suddenly swing open. How much do we need to know? Very little indeed.
Nothing to do with espionage ….
Interested .. ?
Seems that our baccarat nitkeeper identity was rejected by police along with all the other Victorian claimants’ attempts in the interim following publication of two pics of SM in Melbourne papers…’and they (police) say that the Man’s identity is a bigger mystery than ever’ according to the Argus of 9th February, 1949.
Nick, I kid you not mate, you certainly know how to burrow .. dealing with VM research does that to a bloke I suppose.
But what style of nitkeeper has peculiarly ‘wedge-shaped feet,’ highly developed calves and thighs, broad chest, wide shoulders, clean fingernails and soft hands?
That’s the challenge.
Pete: some people may be born researchers 🙂 , but I don’t believe anyone is born a baccarat school nitkeeper, it’s a thing that happens to you on your path. And if the claim about the ten week stint is true, it would seem that being a Melbourne nitkeeper wasn’t for him.
Career-wise, the closest Aussie thing might be a “knockabout” – which is not too far from what we in London call “wide boys”, dodgy geezers, perpetually ducking and diving, always something to sell their mates down the pub, just below the radar, one step ahead of the Law, never quite visible enough to go down for a stretch. For what it’s worth, I’m guessing the Venn diagram would place the (small) nitkeeper circle plum inside the (much larger) knockabout circle. 🙂
Typical wide boy line: “Stay lucky!” 😉
None of the knockabouts I knew after working ten years in nightclubs bars and hotels looked as spruce as our man. .. clean fingernails ? No way. That would be interpreted as playing for the other side.
Peteb: that’s your experience, and that’s fair enough. Maybe the Somerton Man wasn’t much of a knockabout either.
Never mind SM’s legs, the one thing that I think is the single biggest tell is the white tie. Who, in Australia in the late 1940s, ever wore a white fabric (not silk) tie, but had nothing even close to an evening suit? Answer that, and maybe we’ll start to get somewhere. I’ve looked and looked, and the only crime-related white tie story I’ve found is about two brothers who stole a motorbike in 1947, who filled a white tie with sand to use as an impromptu cosh:
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/133909805
PS: here’s a nice photocrime story from Trove involving a suitcase containing a white tie but no socks:
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/26173208
Nick has just hit on one aspect of SM’s rather ordinary attire which suggests by a particular omission the likelihood of him having been dressed up for the occasion by others before delivery to the site, either by water, wheels or according to some punters by a fireman’s carry exponent along the foreshore a fair distance. Sorry to keep repeating what I’ve offered a number of times in past posts concerning the notable absence of cuffs and studs on a buttonless shirt, in hope that some bright spark might have eventually caught on.
The cuff links and studs, if he had any, may have indicated his or their origins .. and like everything else that might have identified him were removed.
If they were ceremonial, say from war service, so may have been the tie.
….and yet it remained in place, sticking out like a Fokker in the sights of a Sopwith over Bordeaux; it’s red white and blue stripes set just so with wings inset to confirm RAF pilot origins. Why then go to the trouble of removing the similar matching service insignia cuff links, tie bar and collar studs?. More likely our post mortem dresser couldn’t find or didn’t think some old suit would miss the prissy accessories.
The attendant link marries the white tie with a class of mostly athletic young men who may or may not have been employed as nitkeepers during the war years.
Meet Skids
Five multipurpose stylish ties four in the suitcase, yet no spare collar or socks is not my depiction of a man about town, certainly not by Lonsdale St. terms. More like a cloak room attendant who has a supply on tap.
I know fashions have changed since then, but would it be normal to where a white tie with a light shirt? Weren’t all the shirts in the suitcase light colours?
Seems there were two open neck safari shirts and it’s unclear about one listed separately with no tag which may have been one of that pair though no colour is mentioned.
How is it that in the one particularly clear pic we have so many mystery items placed on that leather masonic folder?
The white tie .
The homemade metal tools … they appear far too small for a 3rd officer to use effectively.
The brush. Not used for painting or boot polishing.
A black powder shaken from the brush that analyst Cowan couldn’t identify.
The small square of zinc used to wrap and protect the tools.
Byron says prospector.
Tomsbytwo’s current post has two thread pics. If you compare the distinct colour shade variations of the very same knife handle, you’ll realise how ridiculous this whole white tie discussion has been.
Fine with khaki then, that leaves us with his tools …
If we’re talking specialist equipment like the yellow handled insulated Turner screwdriver, better to check with the coppers who ratted the suitcase on day one. As for the cuttlery, they would have been part of any handyman’s general purpose travel kit and a pretty versatile selection at that.
Hi Nick. I tried to send my email to receive updates but I couldn’t. The send me updates button didn’t work. can it be my problem? Congratulations on the excellent blog. AND.
Egroj: I’ll have a look at this, it was definitely working a couple of months back. 🙁
Nick’s nitkeeper sounds like he may have only been on the job for a little while, so what’s to say his involvement in criminal activities didn’t cover other money-making schemes?
Remember your ‘hot car scenario”, Dome old son? You may have been closer that you realise.
Fellow named Nick Savas born in Italy 1912 left the eastern states in September 1945 for his domicile in Perth. Address during the war was 109 Lonsdale Street Melbourne and another den of iniqity in Goulburn St. Sydney. His CMF picture side/front profile fits the bill well enough for our nitkeeper, though a definate no for SM as we have Nick and an older brother buried in Perth. That doesn’t let a particular blood relative, possibly another older brother off the hook though.
Any relation to Savas(possibly Savvas) in Adelaide? There’s a bulk distributor down Port Adelaide that used to be run by “Sammy Savas” (who I imagine would be rather elderly these days).
There also used to be a coffee and fine foods emporium called “Savas House” on one of one of the less busy East-West roads in the city centre (possibly on Flinders St?).
I don’t know that the two were necessarily related to each other (although wouldn’t be surprised if they were….or perhaps even ultimately the same entity)
Google also suggests there’s a Savas St in Rostrevor – but I’m sure that means SFA.
Nick Savas ex 109 Lons. Greek club and Brother Diamond were qualified as chefs and worked in a fancy Perth hotel before the war, having landed at Fremantle ex Port Said in 1927. Seems that Diamond put Queenie as his NOK in ’45, as opposed to his ’42 nominated Greek spouse. Far as I’m aware the lads had no relatives amongst the other Castelarizarian Savas or Savvas families who migrated to all states including Tasmania and NT. Big problem is that the Greek surnames were interchangeable to a great degree, as can be seen on Diamond’s two NAA files. So in reality their older sibling Tom, Greg or Stan (whatever), also a cook who arrived in 1916 from Cazzie via PS, may not be related either.
Apologies for going off topic. Milongal, you know your history, what was the procedure for placing a classified in an Adelaide newspaper back in ‘48
Stanley’s fish cafe at Sydney’s busy Circular Quay would have been the ideal location for joint intelligence observations to be conducted and there can be little doubt that a trusted ex government employed Greek cook like Tom Savas would have fitted the bill admirably. One of his handlers Lt. Fred Reynolds Morris met with him at the Sydney Greek (Hellenic) club for periodic de-briefings and in July ’42 obtained information on a suspected nazi sympathiser. The officer’s report to his Military Intelligence boss is on record at NAA along with some rather mundane inquiry notes of NSW SB police, but nothing more on the suspect was unearthed until he came to notice post war for his pro communist leanings. Man couldn’t seem to make up his mind on which bad nag to back.
….Absolutely nothing more was ever heard from Tom aka ‘Stanley’ Savas or his fish cafe which must have been well frequented by legit and subversive types alike in the war years, though it is noted that his controllers were re assigned to the North in ’44 where they saw their war out as native labour force supervisers. Upon demobilization Fred Morris, formerally a Darwin civil servant, stayed with the government in Canberra (Trove illegal weapon rap ’52) and his young off-sider Fred Gubbins of Brighton Beach SA, edited newspapers, the ‘dead heart’ and Centralian Advocate which he eventually sold to the Murdoch news monopoly for a tidy sum years later. Whatever became of Tom is perplexing, though there are offers of help from a heavily advertised online Hellenic family locating service who charge little. Reminds one, unfairly no doubt, of some old saying to do with Castelorizians bearing gifts etc…
@Pete: Flattered, but that’s not really history – that’s just Adelaide in the 90s (but I could imagine a connection at least to John’s Savases….although I suspect it’s not an uncommon Greek name.
Regarding placing an ad Trove suggests that in 1946 the Advertiser began accepting phone calls to place ads:
Telephone Service To Begin On Monday
Beginning on Monday. April 8, a service will be in operation for people who
wish to telephone classified advertisements. The service will operate from
1 p.m. until 9 p.m. daily from Monday to Friday, and a restricted service will
be in operation on Sundays between 6 p.m and 9 p.m. There woll be no service on Saturdays
Milongal, much appreciated
milongal: Being groomed for the roll of a useful stalking horse is par for the course where our old Stalker-in-Chief is concerned, as you might have experienced some times in the past. Dobbin might just as easily have availed himself of the desired info as you, me or any other duffer without resorting to snivelling canivances; So hardly flattering by my estimate, though each to their own.
Castelorizians were of Greek origin and started leaving their economically unviable island just off Turkey before 1900, opting for the US and Australia as preferred resettlement destinations. Most ‘Halutz/Balutz immigrants arrived in Fremantle from Port Said and being multilingual were able to disburse far and wide to seek good paying jobs. They were originally considered to have been be legally Italian which, in later years went against some who had remained unaturalised (esp. Qld) where they were rounded up with those of Italian birth in 1939 and interned as POWs by mistake.
My fellow Tom Savas Grigorious etc., to the best of my figuring, had arrived in WA in 1916 then immediately shipped north aboard ‘New Zealand’ with many of his countrymen to the proposed Vestey beef slaughteriing factory at Para Parap NT, initially for general construction work then later as meat processors. After that business failed finally in 1925, it seems he was able to get work as govt. cook and victualer? at the Darwin Hospital. He married Helen Margaritis in 1930 (Trove) and his last known sighting was in Sydney as aforementioned in mid 1942 as Stanley the fish restrateur.
Here’s a shot in the dark. If our man was involved in illegal gambling perhaps he was a gambler himself and the code was his record of hands wagered in some game or other. I’ve seen quite a few roulette gamblers keeping notes as they play.
pb: roulette arrived in Australia in the 1970s, as I mentioned recently:
http://ciphermysteries.com/2020/01/11/the-difficulties-of-australian-archives
I didn’t necessarily mean roulette, but wagering games popular in the 40’s might provide an insight.
Pb: that’s basically what I’ve been doing here for a while now. 🙂 Though I somehow doubt I’ll succumb to the Aussie charms of Two Up any time soon, not even on Anzac Day. :-/