The Twins - Men of Violence. Kate Kray
If they had continued to get away with it for another couple of years, perhaps they would have become untouchable. They would have been so far removed from the crimes they committed it would have been impossible to trace anything back to them. Even in their heyday, Ron could walk into a pub, kill George Cornell, and tell everyone he’d done it, safe in the knowledge that nobody could touch him for it.
The twins set the standard for organised crime in Britain. They were glamorous and nobody, before or since has achieved the same level of sophistication. Look at the gangs nowadays. They don’t have the profile or the glamour of the Krays. Not a chance. Their crimes were vicious, yes; some would say barbaric. Even in prison, Ron could strike fear into the hearts of the toughest men around him. In Parkhurst one time, he was sitting having his dinner with a bunch of other cons, when somebody noticed he hadn’t eaten his greens.
‘Not eating your greens then, Ron?’ asked the con. Ron was silent for a few seconds, then he lifted up his metal tray and with a single sweep used it to slice off the con’s nose.
But it wasn’t their violent nature that sealed their fate. The bottom line was that they were far too famous …
When I was married to Ron, I used to visit him or phone him every day. I talked to him about being free all the time, and he always used to say, ‘Don’t worry about me Kate. Just help Reggie get free.’ Ron knew he belonged in Broadmoor. He knew he needed his medication. If he was feeling ill in the head, he’d say to me, ‘Kate, I can’t see you for a few days.’ He was sensible like that. All he wanted was for Reggie to get out.
By the time Reg was freed, he only had a few weeks to live. In my eyes, that was no act of kindness; that was an act of cruelty, to say to a dying man, ‘This is what you’ve missed for the last 32 years; now you’re dying, so you’ll never have it.’
Not that it would have bothered Reg. I can hear him now, being told he was going to be let out: ‘About fucking time, too!’ And he’d have been right. They could have released Reggie years ago, and if they had I’d have known where to find him every day: in Broadmoor by Ronnie’s side, not on the streets causing trouble. Reg would never have gone back into organised crime.
Ron, on the other hand, was a different matter. I asked him once what was the one thing he’d do if he was freed. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say — go down the East End, perhaps, have a drink with some friends. No. The one thing he wanted to do was to have a walk in the park and stroke a dog. After he’s shot three people, that is!
I spent so long talking to Ron, and Reg too — that was all we could do — talk. So much crap has been written about them, I think it’s time, now that they are gone, to set the record straight. In this book you will find stories about Ron and Reg from my time with them, but also tributes and anecdotes from members of the firm and others who knew them closely.
I want to tell the truth about them. They were violent men. Nobody knew that better than me. I’ll never forget the time Ron had the hump with me, and he told a friend of his, Mick, to kill me. Mick laughed and said, ‘Ron, you’ve got more chance of me killing you than Kate.’ Next time I went to see him after that, of course, I was all cocky — ‘Ha, you see, even Mick won’t kill me!’
Ron just held my hand and said in his quiet voice, ‘No, Kate. If I wanted to kill you, I’d just ask one of the nutters in here to do it on their home leave. They’d do anything for me.’ That soon wiped a smile from my face.
I’ve been on a visit with Ron and a couple of faces, and one of the guys would say something that upset Ron. You would never have known it to look at him. He just kept smiling and said, ‘I want you to leave now, ‘cos I want to have a word with Kate.’ They shook hands, and the geezer left thinking Ron was his best mate. Then Ron turned to the other face, and with a glint in his eye and in his quietest voice, he said, simply, ‘Kill him.’
And in the next breath he’d change his mind. But that was Ron.
Oh, he could be a nasty bastard, alright, and he knew it. But there was a softer side to him that few people ever saw. Sometimes on a visit I’d start crying, and Ron would never quite know what to do. He’d wipe the tears off my face, and nine times out of ten he’d end up wiping the mascara everywhere so I looked like a panda. Then he’d send me off to the bathroom to compose myself. When I came back, he’d apologise and say, ‘It’s the German in me, Kate. I’m sorry.’ Kray was a German name, you see.
I don’t want to pretend that they weren’t violent men. But there was far more to them than that. When you think about it, they were just a couple of ragamuffins from the East End who did something with their life. Show me a person who hasn’t heard of the Kray twins. It takes a certain kind of tenacity to become that famous, but at the end of the day they could hardly even read or write. Imagine what they would have achieved if they’d been educated …
I hope this book presents a rounded portrait of Ron and Reg Kray. When I used to talk to Ron, he’d tell me all his secrets, and say, ‘Pay attention, Kate. One day all this will make a good subject for one of your books.’ So much of what he told me I had to keep quiet until him and Reg had passed away. But I know they wanted the truth to be told. Now, at last, it can be.
Ron is a very complex character, often contradictory, sometimes eccentric. I’ve known him to be vicious when necessary, but deep down he has a very kind nature. Anyone who has met Ron will confirm that he has an immaculate dress sense and is always the perfect gentleman.
One time Ron and I were in the Greengate public house and Ron was sitting on a bar stool, three fellas entered the bar and stood directly behind Ron making sarcastic remarks against him. I watched and listened, but before I could make a move, Ron stepped down off the stool. He hit one of the fellas with a right hand punch. He hit the floor immediately like a windless bagpipe.
Ron hit another with a right then a left, sending him to the floor. The third joker looked on in amazement. His face went white. He apologized and made for the exit.
Ron was completely fearless.
The Twins demanded loyalty and respect. Even after they were banged up. And they had the power to see that that loyalty was respected. Even from prison, the Krays had a very, very long arm …
Thirty years after their heyday, they had a core of followers who treated them with the respect they demanded. One of those men was Charlie. Throughout the sixties, Charlie was at their side. He is a man of his word. A proud man, and one I am proud to have as my friend. He has an air of confidence about him and you know instantly it wouldn’t be a wise move to cross him.
He is a big, broad man, and he knows how to act with everyone. He’s always suited and booted, and when Charlie is in the room you know about it — he stands out like an immovable object.
It was in the summer of 1988 when Ron asked me to phone Charlie to arrange a visit. He was such a friendly man that we clicked immediately. In those early days, I have to put my hands up and admit that I was green and didn’t know the score. I was always eager to please Ron. I tried to do all the things he wanted but it was impossible.
There was always so much to do. So many messages to deliver, so many people to see and places to go. It seemed that Ron had completely taken over my life and there was no time left for me any more.
Charlie sensed that and encouraged me