PEER AND A GANGSTER: YARD PROBE. So screamed the headline of Britain's Sunday Mirror on 11 June 1964. Bound by England's archaic libel laws, it was unable to reveal the identities of the police investigation. Germany's Stern was prepared to name names and it reported that the peer was Lord Robert Boothby, the Conservative Life Peer, and Ronnie Kray, who with his twin brother Reggie, ruled London's gangland in the so-called Swinging Sixties.

BBC-2's successful adaptation of Jake Arnott's cult novel, The Long Firm, would have led to this moment in history being overlooked. Mark Strong's mesmerising performance as Harry Starks, the charismatic gangster, is partly modelled on Ronnie Kray, who befriends Lord Thursby, played by Derek Jacobi, is clearly inspired by Bob Boothby. Arnott cleverly mixes characters from real life with his fictional creations, including Boothby's real-life friend and "fuck buddy" the Labour MP Tom Driberg into this fascinating tale of the criminal underworld of the middle of the twentieth century.

Born at the start of the century, Boothby entered Parliament in the twenties. He spent years as Parliamentary Private Secretary to that great Tory maverick, Winston Churchill when he was Chancellor of the Exchequer. Boothby was tipped as a possible future Prime Minister but he would display serious character flaws that would conspire to prevent him from climbing the greasy pole to high office. When he finally put pen to paper and wrote his memoirs he entitled them Recollections of a Rebel.

Despite having been educated at Eton and Balliol, Boothby was far from old money. His good looks, dapper demeanour and individuality would mark him out as a dangerous element in a party that has thrived on having mavericks in its midst yet never quite trusting them. Churchill and Thatcher became premiers but many others have fallen by the wayside, such as Cecil Parkinson.

Meanwhile, the controversy around his relationship and its true nature continued unabated with the Daily Mirror, sister to its Sunday tabloid, teased its public and taunted its victims. It declared that it had a photograph it "dare not print" of the well-known peer and, so far, unnamed gangster. It was an invitation to sue and with the Conservative government of the day desperate, as ever, to avoid scandal.

The party's Chief Whip was instructed, in confidence, that if a prosecution went ahead it had to be allowed to run its full course. Action had to be taken swiftly, so as not to help the Labour Party in its next General Election campaign. In the end, Boothby took matters into his own hands.

In a letter to the Times, Boothby stated categorically that he was not a homosexual and that he had only met the so-called King of the Underworld on three occasions. That it was little more than a business relationship and meetings had taken place in his flat when others were present. It cleared the air, but there was still the fear of further revelations.

Downing Street soon drew a collective sigh relief as the Mirror was forced to back down and compensate Boothby to the tune of £40,000, as well as an apology. At the time, the money was alleged to have gone to charity. Later, the peer admitted, but only in private, that he had used it to buy a house in the country. He had learned from Ronnie Kray that crime did pay.

Was the Mirror duped? They were close to the truth, although Kray and Boothby were never lovers. Shortly before his death, Ronnie issued a statement declaring that he and, the Tory peer had never been lovers, as even MI5 had known that the Mirror's suspicions were wrong.

During the breaking of the scandal, both political parties knew about Boothby and his chum, Driberg. Tory top brass had been informed that the pair had been cruising at the dogs, where "gangs of thugs" laundered money. Harold Wilson knew of Driberg's sexual orientation. On hearing that his fellow MP was about to marry, he had commented that "buggers can't be choosers". Far from being a sodomite, however, Tom Driberg preferred performing fellatio on young men.

Driberg and Boothby had to maintain a public face of credible heterosexuality, whereas Ronnie Kray had no such inhibitions as to his true sexual self. He was glad to be gay, often citing the likes of T E Lawrence as being an example of a famous homosexual. He was not, in the parlance of the day, a "pouf".

Ronnie's frank attitude towards his sexuality, as well as the reputation of the twins, led to Boothby, Driberg and the Krays congregating together. Oscar Wilde called it "feasting with panthers" or the English gentleman's sexual fascination with a "bit of rough" - a young man from the lower orders. In Ronnie's harem was Mad Teddy Smith, Driberg's lover, another being Leslie Holt, window cleaner cum cat burglar. Not only would Holt share Ronnie's bed, but also become Boothby's favourite "son".

In common with the Krays, young Leslie had trained as a boxer, hailing from the same manor as the twins. His muscular physique had been honed at the Lion Boys Club, while he lived in the cramped conditions of a terrace house on the bridge of a canal on New North Road, Islington. He shared a home with his parents and eight siblings.

Holt secured a job as a window cleaner with a large firm in the City but he had another occupation: cat burglar. He would pursue this other trade until his death in 1979 in Harley Street, after a massive dose of anaesthetic administered by a doctor called Gordon Kells.

On visiting Broadmoor, Laurie O'Leary, a lifelong friend of Ronnie Kray, was informed by his old mate that they had killed him. Who "they" were remains a mystery.

Promotion at work led to Holt working in better areas, including Knightsbridge and Kensington. His penchant for pilfering meant he still pocketed the odd gem, but temptation was always there. Yet he could hardly swipe a chair, as it would surely be missed, or the books on shelves that looked expensive but had no knowledge to value them properly.

Word from a friend made him visit an antique market in Bermondsey. A whole world opened up to him, introducing the impressionable Holt to a different world.

Besides thieving the odd antique clock or family heirloom, he was now stealing documents of a classified nature and incriminating photographs that allowed him to blackmail the owners for large sums of money. Prostitutes befriended him, hoping he would be useful to him. Others, including businessmen and politicians, such as Boothby, were attracted to him.

One night, during the sixties, Holt invited O'Leary to a mews house in Knightsbridge. In the bedroom, through an empty wardrobe, they watched via a mirror into another room, where a man, naked apart from a mask, was whipping a young woman, also nude, as she lay across a mechanical horse.

The house had once been the property of society osteopath Stephen Ward, the infamous scapegoat at the centre of the Profumo scandal. Another time O'Leary remembered the day when Christine Keeler, the woman who had an affair with John Profumo, turned up one day, being escorted by Holt in Jaguar E-Type convertible, a present from Bob Boothby to the young man. Boothby was a close friend and political ally of Harold Macmillan, whose Conservative government would be rocked, leading to infamous Labour victory.

Before his untimely demise, Pat, Holt's sister, had received frequent calls from Kells, trying to contact her brother, urging him not to go home, as it was surrounded by police. Holt had been using information from Kells to aid his criminal activities. At his trial for the unlawful killing of his accomplice his defence was that before attending the operation he had suffered a minor car accident. Two separate doses of anaesthetic had been administered in error, complications had set in and, despite being rushed to hospital, Holt had never regained consciousness. Kells left the court still a free man with the Holt family incandescent with rage.

Unlike the unfortunate Tommy, as played by the wonderful Joe Absolom, we will probably never know the truth behind the death of Leslie Holt and his true connection with Robert Boothby. Jake Arnott's novel only hints at the many unsolved crimes that remain from that time.

© Howard Watson 2004