Inside the Kray Family

by Rita Smith

  Thinking about it now though, I wished I’d pushed him a bit harder to stay because now he’s gone it would be nice to stick the video on and see the old fella again. On the other hand you couldn’t step six inches without tripping over a cable, so I had to consider – one little tumble at his age and it’s all over.

  On the Monday Charlie rang me again wondering what was up and when I told him the old man had got the arse’ole with hanging about, he said, “Never mind. Get Johnny and come down to Reading because they’re filming a boxing scene.” I thought, “I don’t mind that. Couple of days on location, couple in the studios; nice few quid – not too much work.” Cor, don’t they go on in that game. Five, ten, twenty takes; you think they’re never going to get it right. Midnight every night before I got home to bed.

  There was a few faces on the set, but they were just walk-ons same as us. There was old Jack Kid Berg, Alex Steene and the fella they called the Guv’nor, Lenny McLean. He didn’t half cause a ruck one day when he had a row with the cameraman and threatened to punch his head in. Don’t know what over but they was going to shut the set down if he didn’t leave. He told them “Fuck off ” and stayed where he was, and nobody had the bottle to say any more. Then I got a bollocking for taking Kid Berg to Westcliffe for the day when we should’ve been filming, but they couldn’t go too strong with me being family, and we both got paid out even though we hadn’t been there. Alex and Ted didn’t give a monkey’s about the film – all they wanted to know was did they get paid out every night or when it was all over.

  I mean you could criticize all day long about “they got this wrong and they got that wrong” but it was only a film after all and you couldn’t take it too serious. It made a few quid for the boys, but where it went with them stuck inside I’ve no idea.

  Charlie blew his on different business ventures because he was out, but the twins, well they wasn’t buying flash clothes and motors. But whatever, it wasn’t long before they were looking round for a few quid again.

  I remember Ronnie phoning me up one time for a favour. He wanted me to pick up a woman friend of his and take her to Broadmoor. No problem – then he tells me he’s going to marry her. What can you say? He wouldn’t have been where he was if he had all his marbles. I did what he asked and I met up with her. Plainish looker – nothing wrong with that. About thirty years old – nice enough girl and perfectly normal. Elaine her name was. On the way there she says to me, “What’s Ronnie like?” How do you answer that? She’s prepared to marry a bloke and she don’t know him from Adam.

  They did get married and got divorced just as quick, and whatever reasons she had for getting hitched up to Ron in the first place, that was it – finished. She didn’t write books, she didn’t sell her story to the papers and she never traded on the Kray name, as far as I know. So all I can think is that she was genuine enough in how she felt even though to me the whole business was a bit strange, what with him only fancying blokes since he was a youngster.

  The years went on and he met up with this other one who I’ve never met and don’t know much about. But you hear things, put two and two together and weigh it up for yourself.

  I’ve always got on better with Ron than with Reg and that’s probably because I’ve seen more of him over the years, but even so you always had to be careful what you said to him because he could turn in a second. So when he said that he was going to get married again, I had to say to him, “This marrying lark, Ron. What’s that all about?” He laughed and said, “You know what it’s like, Joey. We all need some woman to run about for us.” Stands to reason he wouldn’t want one for anything else because he’d said often enough that he didn’t have time for them. I wasn’t a bit surprised when it all took a tumble after a short while.

  I saw this Kate woman fronting some programme on the telly the other night and they was calling her Ronnie Kray’s widow. A bit odd considering he gave her the elbow quick as you like when he thought she was out of order, so somebody’s got it all wrong.

  With both of them stuck behind the door I think that out of the two of them Ron got the best deal. Apart from his freedom he had everything he wanted. A few friends round him, a comfortable berth, plenty of visitors and no worries. I don’t know if he was being crafty or he thought he was back in the old days when dough was flying around, but he had four faces visit him one day. As they were going he’s asked if they could do him a favour and settle up his bill at the hospital shop. “No problem, Ronnie. Leave it to us,” and all that. When they went to the desk they got stuck with a bill for twelve hundred quid. They all had to dig a bit deep but they paid it.

  Reg, on the other hand, once he came off A Cat, went straight into the mainstream prison system. And though the only bird I’ve ever done was overnight, I know enough about it to realize he couldn’t drop his guard for a minute, so that’s a strain in itself. You only had to look round to see he got plenty of respect from the other cons, but he didn’t get no favours from the screws. To them he was no different from anyone else.

  I’ve spoken to people who’ve got their ideas from American gangster films, where the top geezer has everybody waiting on him, so they’d say, “I bet Reg has got a plush cell,” imagining that he was suited up and still running this empire from an office behind bars. Nothing was further from the truth. What you’ve got to give him credit for is that he did all them years before he cracked up. Up until then he was fit, sharp and generous. OK, he was generous with other people’s money, but he did put his name behind a lot of charity stuff when he could just as easily not have bothered.

  Some kid needed an operation – bomp – he’s knocked out one of his drawings to be auctioned off. Personally, I didn’t think they were all that, but never mind, they raised a good bit of cash.

  Then he changed almost overnight, and he was nothing like the old Reggie. What was it? Ronnie dying, or did it suddenly hit him that they were never going to let him out? I knew he was going to do the full stretch and I’ve got letters here from the Home Office more or less saying that, in a roundabout way. Never told him that but he was no fool. It seemed like he shut off from anybody or anything outside the walls. He fell out with decent people that had supported him for years, and was only interested in the little mob of youngsters that hung around him in the prison.

  When he died he left a letter for the newspapers saying he was gay. Well, I’m not going to judge him on that because who knows what thirty years does to your head. But it was never a secret anyway. Never talked about, but it stuck out a mile. Different prison, different young fella would be introduced as his “friend”, and whoever it was would be showing off a gold chain or a watch that Reggie’s bought them. I thought half of them were taking the piss but Reg never saw it.

  Then all of a sudden he’s getting married, and I could only think it was for the same reason as Ron. Still it was his life and none of my business. Though you can’t help wondering why a comparatively young, middle-class woman with supposedly a bit of a head piece on her would want to marry an ageing, partially deaf and gay ex-gangster. It’s anyone’s guess.

  I won’t say too much about it now because it’s all over, but this Roberta didn’t do us family any favours when Reg was dying. When I found out he’d been moved out of prison and into hospital I made myself busy trying to find out what was going on. But it was an uphill struggle. Remember, I’d been involved with him since him and Ron popped out like two little monkeys – sixty-six years ago. Now all of a sudden the papers are getting the story before us, and to my way of thinking that’s all arse about face.

  I eventually got hold of Roberta by ringing her home and she told me that Reg had a kidney infection. Well, she was either kidding me or kidding herself, because either way, a day or so later it was all over the news that he was suffering from terminal cancer.

  What can I say about Reg’s end when it came? I’d known he hadn’t been in the best of health for a long while, but it still throws you when one of your own is on their last kn
ockings. Me and Ann got ourselves up to Norwich hospital and in to see him. He was still a prisoner then so of course there was a couple of screws in the room, plus some woman keeping an eye on him. Bit of a joke really, because the man couldn’t turn himself over in bed let alone do a runner. He did look a state – tubes, bottles, wires, you name it. And whether he knew it or not, I could tell it was only a matter of weeks – if he was lucky.

  Funny how your mind works at a time like that. He was more taken with this new shirt I had on than anything else. He said, “You don’t half look smart, Joey”. And I said, “Should hope so, this shirt cost me fifty nicker”. And that gave him a bit of a laugh. We had a chat, but he was very weak and I thought it best not to hang about too long. He thanked me for sticking by him over the years, sent his love to Rita and Kimmy and that was that really.

  As we were leaving he said, “Joey, come and see me again. Don’t ask, just come any time you want.” I never saw him alive again, because when I went again some time after, I was turned away by the sister in charge who told me he was having a bad day. Fair enough. But on the way out I couldn’t help noticing that a TV crew was laying cables everywhere and setting cameras up outside his room. So I have my thoughts about that.

  I eventually watched the result of that filming that was obviously going on that day and was disgusted that my cousin’s dying was turned into a peepshow for money and entertainment. Who on earth thought it was a good idea to show Reg as a shadow of what he used to be and then link together shots of him with filthy comments from Lenny Hamilton? Doesn’t he have any respect for the dead or any decency toward us family left behind?

  Them fellas like the Lambrianous and Freddie Foreman who served years and years in prison for the twins, have a right to say what’s on their mind. But to give airtime to a man who wants to make a living out of being striped with a hot poker by Ron, is an insult to us. Stripe him? Ron should’ve stuck it down his fucking throat. Only time I ever heard the twins talk about him was when they were calling him a grass and a rat. Revenge – that’s what he wants, but he’s taking it out on the wrong people now because he didn’t have the bottle to open his mouth when the boys were still alive.

  Still, while I was getting all wound up about things that were being said, I still managed to have one chuckle to myself over something that Roberta come out with. What were they pumping into Reg while he was hospital? Because whatever it was, forget your Viagra, they want to put it on the market and make a fortune. Consummated his marriage? C’mon. None of that lark was on the cards all the time he was under arrest and by the time he was free he could hardly breath, could barely move too quick and was wired up to a morphine box. I could be wrong, of course, but who’s to say any different?

  Anyway, day after the knock-back in the hospital I got a call from Roberta saying that Reg wanted a word with me. He came on the line, but he sounded so rough I could hardly understand what he was saying. Basically, what he wanted to say was sorry for the misunderstanding the day before. I told him to forget it because I doubt he even knew I was there at the time. We talked for a bit and that was it. I put the phone down and said to Ann, “That’s it, it’s all over”. And it was, because he was dead not too long after.

  Counting the bird he did in the early years before the big one, he spent more than half his life in prison. Was it worth it? You tell me.

  I’ve stood beside too many family graves over the years, and every one takes a little piece out of you. Me and my Ann often go to the cemetery in Upminster where my close family are buried just to walk round and pay our respects. My mum and sister Connie have been gone long enough for me to come to terms with losing them, but when I stand thinking about my father, I look down and can’t believe that tough old man is laying there. I used to think he’d go on for ever.

  Then perhaps once a month we’ll slip over to Chingford Mount Cemetery for the same reason. Doesn’t half make me think that, when I look round and see that most of the people that were such a big part of my life are laying under my feet. I don’t think there’ll ever be another family like them and give or take the ups and downs we’ve been through, I’ve got to say I’ve been proud to be part of them all. Yes proud – not proud of what those boys got up to, but of being connected to a strong loyal family stretching right back down the years.

  I look at that big slab of black marble that says “Legend – Ronnie Kray”, and I know it’s only a matter of time before they get round to putting Reggie’s name beside his. Same thought comes to me every time: “Well, boys, you never wanted anything else than to be famous, and you certainly got that – and a bit more. But you didn’t half pay a heavy price for it.”

  Then I look to one side and there’s my mate Charlie’s little patch. Funny how something like a name can ruin a bloke’s life. If he’d been a different sort of fella – maybe stronger and more forceful, whatever, I don’t know – me and Rita wouldn’t be putting this book together right now because the Kray name wouldn’t mean nothing. If those twins had looked up to him a bit more and taken notice of what he said, which most of the time made a lot of sense, the three of them could’ve had a different life altogether. But as we all know he didn’t stand a chance against that pair so he got sucked in time and time again. As for that last business that got him stuck away for twelve years – what can I say? I was going to say bit of a joke really, but it was nothing to laugh about when we all knew that once that door shut behind him he couldn’t live long enough to walk out again. Nobody will ever convince me that it wasn’t a fit-up. Someone up top marked his card and after that he’d got no chance.

  He told me hand on heart that he never got involved in drugs and that he was innocent. If it was any different he would’ve said, knowing that it wouldn’t go any further. He told me a lot more on those visits that I made to him when the end was near, but it won’t do him any good now for me to start shouting my mouth off. It was an injustice, and I’ll leave it at that.

  He knew he didn’t have long to go and I was pleased I was there for him as often as I could be in those last weeks. I’ve got a letter in front of me now that he wrote about twelve hours before he died, and by the time I got it he was already gone. He was too ill to get to the phone, yet he made an effort to say what he had to say to me and I’ll always appreciate that.

  He was always in the shadow of his brothers – always second best. And even now in death he’s been overlooked because he hasn’t even got a marker. Nothing that says he was a decent fella whose only real crime was looking out for those twins. Nothing that marks his coming or going. Says it all really.

  10. They never saw

  Rita Smith

  Sentencing my cousin Charlie to ten years in prison was as criminal as the crimes he was supposed to have committed. What sort of justice is it that puts a man away because he has the same name as the guilty ones? I know he still had his life, but thinking about it, he was as much a victim of what the twins did as the men who died.

  Reg and Ron both knew what they were doing when they did what they did, but I wonder if they ever considered the others who just happened to be there, or once they were in their cells, consider the hurt they left outside? I don’t suppose they did for a minute – they had enough to think about with having to face thirty years minimum. Though, as I’ve already said, at first they did think they’d only get fifteen years as a maximum, but by the time the trial was coming to an end I’m sure they had both guessed that the outcome would be twice that, so of course they weren’t surprised.

  Unlike all of us at home. People always think of the prisoner. They wonder how can they get through ten, twenty or thirty years? But if you’re a wife or husband, parents, grandparents or, like me, close cousin, when those gates bang shut you know that one way or another you’re going to share every day of the same sentence – that’s if you live long enough, and though we didn’t know it then, Nanny and Grandad only had two years left.

  They were both in their nineties, and like it does wh
en you’re old, the birth of their grandsons must have seemed like yesterday, and suddenly they know they’ll never see them again. They loved the three of them but had idolized the twins since they brought the family back together all those years ago. Neither of them knew a fraction of what those boys got up to, though they knew enough to realize they weren’t angels. But as far as the serious things went, none of us wanted to spell it out.

  Their old television broke down so Ronnie told Grandad that he’d buy him a new one. Basically Grandad was proud and he was honest, so he said to Ronnie, “Nah, I don’t want one of your effing knock-offs. I ain’t having the law banging on my door.” That was funny in itself because over the years the police had tramped through his front door on loads of occasions, but then that was looking for the twins, not him. Ronnie did buy the television, but he had to show the receipt before he was allowed to plug it in.

  From being the strong man he’d been all his life, Grandad gradually deteriorated after he had a fall. He never ever took any notice when we told him to be careful or to leave certain jobs until Joe or Charlie called in. So he was well over ninety years old when he decided to climb on a chair, then balance on the table while he changed a light bulb. Nanny didn’t even notice he was up there when she moved the chair while she was dusting round. So when he came to get down he stepped into mid-air. He hurt his leg quite badly and though he went on for a few more years I think it was down to that, that led toward him being taken into hospital with a chest complaint.