dropped off or if anyone else was with them, hanging about outside.
When Ron was sure it was just the two of them, he came in. David heard him asking them outright: ‘Got any tapes on you?’ – meaning were they wired up.
After that David stayed out of it. Of course he did. Whether they were paying for information or grassing up someone they wanted put away, he knew it would be more than his life wasworth to get involved. While the three of them talked, he busied himself behind the bar, getting ready to open the club a few hours later. They’d do all their business before then, before anyone came into the club, and the Old Bill would creep out before anyone saw them.
That’s how it was generally. My brothers never really knew what the twins were doing at the beginning and didn’t want to know. But then of course they did know, by which time they were too excited by it, or too frightened, or both, not to do what Ronnie wanted.
Ronnie was in the club at lunchtime another day with another couple of cops, and David saw him giving them a packet, a white envelope. They went on talking for a while and then Ron got up, went over to the bar, put his hand in his pocket and got out a wad of notes. He pulled a few out, walked back over and put it down on the table in front of them, saying: ‘There you are, you’d better cop that as well.’
David explained to me how it went. The police needed bodies as well as bungs. Money was lovely but the coppers had to get their books right. It was no use the Krays giving them loads of money and no one getting nicked. They’d pass envelopes of cash – but they’d also inform on anyone they wanted to see out of the way. If the Krays did a job with someone who then didn’t give them the lion’s share of the readies, a couple of weeks afterwards the former partner would find himself arrested.
Some of the coppers out of West End Central were especially corrupt. Their line was: ‘I will help you, and I will leave you alone. If you’re going to be raided I will let you know in advance. ButI need a pension for that – and to satisfy my governors, I need a body once a month.’ So that’s how it worked for the twins.
The Krays would get whatever information they wanted from the police – who was doing well, who might be in need of a little visit, who was going to get nicked and who might be talking to the coppers about the twins’ business. It was a way of spreading fear: ‘You talk to the police about us and we’ll be hearing about it pretty quick.’ So much of their operation depended on information – and informers – which is why they were so paranoid about anyone informing on them. Having coppers on the payroll was the best insurance policy. Sometimes David would go on special meets way outside London to make the pay-offs. One day he would find himself heading for the airport with a suitcase of cash.
David told me in detail afterwards what had happened. It was spring 1963. David was asleep at about eight or nine o’clock with a girl called Lucy on the couch at the 66 Club when there was a bang on the door. Big Pat Connolly and Charlie Kray walked in and told David he had to take some money to Ronnie in Jersey. He thought they were joking but he soon realised they were deadly serious.
They told him to go to Vallance Road. He went there and waited for about five hours before Charlie eventually came in and said: ‘I’ve got a packet here with some money in it. And an air ticket. Keep this on you, whatever you do. Get a case and put some clean shirts in it for Ronnie’ – Ronnie liked shirts – ‘and get a cab to Heathrow. When you get to Jersey, someone will be there.’
David couldn’t help feeling quite excited. He didn’t know exactly how much money there was in the packet but he knew it must be a lot to warrant a personal courier to take it to Ron. He caught the plane to Jersey and waited for an hour but no one turned up to meet him. He knew Ronnie wouldn’t
When Ron was sure it was just the two of them, he came in. David heard him asking them outright: ‘Got any tapes on you?’ – meaning were they wired up.
After that David stayed out of it. Of course he did. Whether they were paying for information or grassing up someone they wanted put away, he knew it would be more than his life wasworth to get involved. While the three of them talked, he busied himself behind the bar, getting ready to open the club a few hours later. They’d do all their business before then, before anyone came into the club, and the Old Bill would creep out before anyone saw them.
That’s how it was generally. My brothers never really knew what the twins were doing at the beginning and didn’t want to know. But then of course they did know, by which time they were too excited by it, or too frightened, or both, not to do what Ronnie wanted.
Ronnie was in the club at lunchtime another day with another couple of cops, and David saw him giving them a packet, a white envelope. They went on talking for a while and then Ron got up, went over to the bar, put his hand in his pocket and got out a wad of notes. He pulled a few out, walked back over and put it down on the table in front of them, saying: ‘There you are, you’d better cop that as well.’
David explained to me how it went. The police needed bodies as well as bungs. Money was lovely but the coppers had to get their books right. It was no use the Krays giving them loads of money and no one getting nicked. They’d pass envelopes of cash – but they’d also inform on anyone they wanted to see out of the way. If the Krays did a job with someone who then didn’t give them the lion’s share of the readies, a couple of weeks afterwards the former partner would find himself arrested.
Some of the coppers out of West End Central were especially corrupt. Their line was: ‘I will help you, and I will leave you alone. If you’re going to be raided I will let you know in advance. ButI need a pension for that – and to satisfy my governors, I need a body once a month.’ So that’s how it worked for the twins.
The Krays would get whatever information they wanted from the police – who was doing well, who might be in need of a little visit, who was going to get nicked and who might be talking to the coppers about the twins’ business. It was a way of spreading fear: ‘You talk to the police about us and we’ll be hearing about it pretty quick.’ So much of their operation depended on information – and informers – which is why they were so paranoid about anyone informing on them. Having coppers on the payroll was the best insurance policy. Sometimes David would go on special meets way outside London to make the pay-offs. One day he would find himself heading for the airport with a suitcase of cash.
David told me in detail afterwards what had happened. It was spring 1963. David was asleep at about eight or nine o’clock with a girl called Lucy on the couch at the 66 Club when there was a bang on the door. Big Pat Connolly and Charlie Kray walked in and told David he had to take some money to Ronnie in Jersey. He thought they were joking but he soon realised they were deadly serious.
They told him to go to Vallance Road. He went there and waited for about five hours before Charlie eventually came in and said: ‘I’ve got a packet here with some money in it. And an air ticket. Keep this on you, whatever you do. Get a case and put some clean shirts in it for Ronnie’ – Ronnie liked shirts – ‘and get a cab to Heathrow. When you get to Jersey, someone will be there.’
David couldn’t help feeling quite excited. He didn’t know exactly how much money there was in the packet but he knew it must be a lot to warrant a personal courier to take it to Ron. He caught the plane to Jersey and waited for an hour but no one turned up to meet him. He knew Ronnie wouldn’t
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