The Twins - Men of Violence. Kate Kray
to see if things are OK and if I need anything.
He loved Ronnie Kray, that was obvious, and when Ron died he was devastated. I remember when I was paying my last respects to Ron at the funeral parlour which was under siege by TV crews, journalists from all over the world and thousands of fans all wanting to see Ron for the last time. Grim-looking men with broken noses and wearing cashmere overcoats surrounded the Chapel of Rest.
Reggie had control of who was allowed in and who wasn’t. He had made a list of names in order of priority.
Obviously, Reggie went first to pay his respects. Charlie Kray was second on the list, and I was third. Unless your name was on that list, you could forget it.
Charlie arrived while I was with Ron. I had so much I wanted to tell Ron, but a gentle knock on the door broke my thoughts.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Kate, but there is a man at the door called Charlie. He said you know him.’
I was so pleased that it was Charlie; I needed to see a familiar face.
Charlie was shown into the Chapel of Rest. He looked pale and drawn — it was obvious he had been crying but he managed to keep his grief under control. He put his arms around me and hugged me tight. His huge arms engulfed me. It was a great comfort. Slowly, he peered into the oak coffin, the brass handles shining in the sunlight coming through the window.
Flowers, mainly spring flowers, were everywhere and their scent filled the air. Ron’s body looked like a cold marble statue. Charlie bent forward and gently kissed Ron’s forehead. Tears welled up in his eyes, and there was genuine pain etched on his tough face, a face that had seen many a brawl in its day. Finally, he broke down and cried.
I didn’t know how to comfort him. I just didn’t have the words. It nearly broke my heart. I’ve heard it said that tough men don’t cry. Well that day, I saw a tough man cry for his friend. The man he describes as ‘a diamond’.
Charlie has held his peace about Ron and Reg for thirty years. Even now it took some persuasion to get him to speak about the two men he respected above all others. But after Reg’s death I went to see him, to talk about the twins and reminisce about the old times. And he told me stories I’d never even heard before…
Charlie got to know the twins through two brothers — Checa and Teddy Berry. He was a good friend of the Berrys, two tough men who didn’t like the twins one little bit. It was only a matter of time before the brothers would end up having a row.
And boy, did they have a row! Ron went right into one and shot Teddy in the leg. Now normally, if you do someone in the leg, you get them to remove their trousers, otherwise the material from the trousers makes the gunshot wound go septic. Well, Ron didn’t bother with any of that. The wound turned bad and Teddy had to have his leg amputated.
Ron felt terrible — but not as terrible as Teddy! The row was over something really stupid, and it certainly didn’t warrant somebody losing their leg. Ron had just lost his temper.
The twins tried to put things straight by arranging a big party for Teddy at the York Hall up in the East End of London. It was a fantastic evening, and Ron and Reg made sure that everyone who was anyone attended. They even raised enough money to buy Teddy a pub called the Bridge House just off Bow Common Lane. Checa and Teddy took over the pub, were good hosts and the whole thing was a roaring success.
Things quietened down for a bit between Teddy and Ron. But deep down the Berry brothers still resented the twins, and in particular Ronnie. Well, it’s not surprising, I suppose — he had shot the geezer in the leg!
They barred them from the pub. Well, maybe barred is the wrong word — you didn’t really bar the twins from anywhere — but let’s just say that they made it known that they were not welcome. I suppose it was reasonable under the circumstances. Charlie didn’t really know the twins at the time. He’d seen them around, of course, and he knew who they were, but so did everybody, unless they came from another planet or something.
Then, one night, right out of the blue, Teddy changed his mind and said that the twins could come to the pub, and they would be made welcome. The Bridge House was Charlie’s local. He always drank in there, and when the twins eventually visited the pub, it was as if nothing had happened. Everyone was friends again. That’s how it often was in those days — you never knew what was going on behind the scenes.
So that’s how Charlie got to know the twins. At the time, he worked for a bloke called Micky who owned a car front, selling all kinds of cars. The twins would turn up at the front and just help themselves to whatever car they fancied — normally a Standard Vanguard for Reg and a Yank for Ron. Not that either of them could drive, of course, but they had people to drive them around anyway. So they’d turn up, help themselves to the cars they wanted, drive them around till they ran out of petrol, and just dump them on the side of the road, or in a ditch, or wherever they felt like it. Next day, you could bet your bottom dollar they’d be back at Micky’s garage helping themselves to another motor!
The twins were used to getting what they wanted, and one day they decided that what they wanted was Micky’s own motor, a rather swanky Chevrolet Impala. Of course, being Ron and Reg, Micky couldn’t say no. Later that night Charlie was driving back to the front with his boss one evening, when what should they see but a Chevvy Impala crashed into a big hole in the road, the back of the car sticking up in the air, and two blokes in suits peering down the hole, scratching their heads.
Micky did a double-take. ‘Hang on, I recognise that car.’
‘Leave it, Micky,’ said Charlie.
‘That’s my Chevvy! Someone’s crashed my fucking Chevvy!’
‘Yeah, and that’s Ron and Reg,’ laughed Charlie. ‘Believe me, you don’t want to get involved. Forget about your motor.’
Micky had no choice but to write the motor off. It proved to be one of the more sensible things he did, and from that moment on, Micky’s garage was under the protection of Ron and Reg. Sure, he had to supply them with cars, but that was a small price to pay for being under the wing of the twins. It meant that any time someone took a liberty with Micky, or threatened to do damage to his property, he made a call and it was sorted.
Sometimes, though, being under the protection of the Krays could backfire, and Charlie told me all about one time when it did. Micky had heard that some mug had threatened to trash his garage. I don’t know why — maybe Micky had done or said something to upset him — but the guy should have known better. It was well known that Micky’s car front was protected by the Krays.
The geezer was a loud mouth in a cheap suit, cussing and snarling on the car front, when who should walk out of Micky’s office but Ronnie Kray. His eyes narrowed, his fist clenched. The trouble maker didn’t stand a chance. When Ron finished, he tossed the guy to the floor, and as he walked out of the garage he turned to one of Micky’s employees and growled, ‘Clear it up.’ With that, he was gone.
The guy wasn’t dead, but he wasn’t far off. Micky panicked: ‘You heard what Ron said.’ They bundled the bleeding man into the back of one of the cars, then drove off in the direction of Victoria Park, hoping to find some bushes where they could dump the bloke.
They arrived at the park, but it was no good. There were too many people around. They had to think quickly. The guy was fading fast, and if they didn’t do something then they’d end up with a corpse in the back of the car.
By now, night was falling, and Micky’s employee was in a panic. He drove the car to the nearby Queen Mary hospital and sneaked in for a look. Good, the coast was clear. Amazingly, he managed to get the bloke into the hospital and dumped him on a trolley. He sunk his bloody hands deep into his overcoat pockets and walked towards the exit. And then he bumped straight into a nurse. She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Can I help you?’
He shook his head. ‘No, no thanks. I’ve just been visiting a friend. G’night.’ And off he hurries.
The man pulled through. He never had evidence