Once Upon a Crime

by Jimmy Cryans

  The only way I can describe them is to say that they were off their nuts and a real bunch of misfits. I suppose that was why they were there in the first place, but I was a criminal and I had absolutely nothing in common with the ‘moon people’ as I called them. The bottom line for me was that they were from a totally different planet. These eight guys and seven females had a variety of different problems, being drink or drug-related or being emotionally unstable. Most of them were on one kind of medication or another – tranquilisers, I assumed, because when they failed to take their medication, some of them became really fucking bonkers.

  I found that my own mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Christine and James. She had not been at court and it was pretty much a done deal that our relationship had run its course. Although I had accepted the inevitable I was nonetheless filled with a certain amount of sadness. Christine had been my first true love and she had been good to me and good for me. Although I also knew she had started another relationship with someone else, I bore her no malice. The real pain for me was that I knew it was never going to be the same for James through no fault of his own.

  The coming days were filled with sessions that involved role-playing and these had to be seen to be believed. The group had to enact scenarios. I selected ‘You are a red Indian.’ I thought, ‘Right, you fucking space cadets, I’ll give you a show’ and when my name was called I immediately jumped onto my chair and started screaming ‘Kill all white men, they speak with forked tongue!’ at the top of my voice. I accompanied this with a series of blood-curdling screams and war whoops. When I had finished I calmly resumed my seat and looked around at the others. It was quite a sight: some of them looked frightened, others were quite clearly in shock, one or two were sniggering and the two housemasters avoided my eyes and pretended to be busy writing furiously into their notepads.

  Eventually one of them said, ‘Thank you, James, that was very revealing.’ I instinctively knew that he was trying to intimidate me and that this was his way of telling me that they knew what I was all about, but I really didn’t give a fuck what he or any of them thought. I was simply being a bit subversive and I knew that he knew that.

  It would only be a matter of time before I had had enough and it would be time for this cuckoo to flee the nest. So I started to give some serious thought to the best way to depart and where I would head for.

  On what would prove to be my final day with the ‘moon people’ I had once again gotten into a heated argument with one of the psychologists, with the end result that I was told I had to spend some time in the ‘silent room’. This was a room upstairs in which the walls and floor were covered in mattresses, almost like a padded cell, and a patient could be alone to let off a bit of steam by screaming and throwing themselves around. After about an hour I was summoned to rejoin the group and was informed that due to my antisocial behaviour I would now be required to wear a sign around my neck which stated, ‘I am antisocial. DO NOT SPEAK TO ME.’

  I quickly devised a plan to subvert this latest ploy and turn it to my advantage. This was quite easy to do as I simply asked questions of the other patients along the lines of, ‘What do you think of these new plans to withdraw all medication?’ or ‘I hear that they are taking you to the zoo to learn how to feed the lions – aren’t you scared?’ This not only produced a verbal response but it also had the effect of some very strange behaviour amongst the ‘moon people’. A wee bit cruel, I know, but it was my way of playing the game with those in authority.

  I soon grew tired of the whole charade and finally called a halt after the lunchtime break during which I had to sit alone. As everyone gathered in the day room I stood up and said to one of the psychologists, ‘Right, Doctor-fucking-Strangelove, here, you take this sign and you wear it because it’s made for you, you fucking headbanger. Now I am going to get my jacket and when I return you better have the front door unlocked or I will break your fucking jaw. And don’t think about phoning the cops or I will burn this place to the ground, OK?’

  When I quickly returned from retrieving my jacket the front door was wide open with everyone all standing in the hallway. The head psychologist said, ‘No one here will try to stop you from leaving, James, but are you sure that this is what you want?’

  ‘You’re all off your heads,’ I said, ‘and if I don’t get out of here I may end up killing all of you, and they would be mercy killings, believe me.’ I knew that would put an end to any further discussion, and it did.

  The information I had gleaned on my journey by car now began to pay dividends. I knew which direction the nearest town was in. Once I had left the grounds I crossed the road and entered a large field and set off running at a brisk pace, aiming for a large wooded area about one mile distant. It was important that I get out of sight as quickly as possible and to avoid contact with anyone. It was my intention to put some distance between myself and any likely pursuers and then to lie low until darkness fell.

  The adrenaline was pumping and I was feeling exhilarated but I was also aware that I was now on the run and the first 12 to 24 hours would be crucial. It was 3.30 in the afternoon and the light would begin fading in another hour. During my ten days at the funny farm I had been aware of trains passing close by and I knew that if I was able to find the track then it would be a relatively simple job for me to find my way directly into town. And that is exactly the way it turned out and at 7.30 that evening I found myself standing on a platform of the train station. From there it was an easy task to jump the London train and within an hour I changed trains and boarded a connection to Newbury.

  When I arrived at Newbury it was almost 10.30 at night and I decided to make my way home. Keeping well away from the main roads I did not go directly to the house but lay up for over an hour in a garden at the top of the road. Once I was sure that there was no sign of any cops I made my way to the house via the back gardens of our neighbours. The lights were on in the living room but the curtains were closed. I cautiously made my way down through the garden until I had reached the window of the living room and keeping low I listened intently for the sound of any unfamiliar voices, but all I could hear was the television which was turned down to a low level. I stayed in this position for a good half-hour and then entered the kitchen. I reached the living room door and as I peered into the room I saw a female friend of Christine’s sitting on the sofa with her back to me. I entered the room and said, ‘Hello,’ which gave the girl a bit of a fright but at least she knew me. The first thing I said was, ‘Where is James?’ I found him asleep in his wee bed and looking like an angel.

  The girl told me Christine had gone to visit someone. There was a look of fear in her eyes as she told me this and I knew straight away that she was lying. Before very long a car drew up outside and the girl said, ‘Oh, that’s Christine back. I’m off. Cheerio, Jim.’ It was another few minutes before the front passenger door opened and Christine got out. The street lights made it easy for me to see that the driver was a guy and he wasn’t a taxi or someone I knew.

  Christine came through the front door and the first thing she said was, ‘What are you doing here? Have you escaped and you’re on the run?’ No matter what our personal circumstances were I trusted Christine and it was only fair that I was honest with her. So I said, ‘Let’s have a cup of tea and we can sit down and I’ll give you the full story. And we also need to talk about us and James, and try to sort out where we go from here, OK?’ So that is what we did and we talked into the wee small hours before finally making our way upstairs to what we both knew would be our last night together.

  In the morning I was up early and went through to awaken James. His little face lit up when he saw me. My heart was breaking as I looked into his eyes but I had made a promise to myself that any time I spent with James from now on would always be happy and full of fun and laughter. So I scooped him up in my arms and we went downstairs to have our breakfast together. Christine joined us and for a brief moment it was as if nothing was wrong in our live
s and we were a normal little family unit with no problems. But I knew that there was very little chance of us ever sharing breakfast again.

  I was taking a chance even being in the house, so after an hour or so I made my way to Thatcham. There was only one place where I knew I would be made welcome and that was John Renaldi’s house. John opened the door and said, ‘Fuck me, Jim – they didn’t hold you for very long. Are you on your toes?’ When I told him the story he said, ‘Right, no worries, you’ll stay here with me and Pauline.’ Pauline was sitting with us in the living room and immediately agreed. She wouldn’t have it when I said that I didn’t want to cause them any trouble. Now you get an idea of why I have a special place in my heart for Londoners.

  For the next few days I maintained a very low profile and stayed behind closed doors. John and me had a chance to formulate a few plans. It went without saying that we were going to be grafting together and that is exactly what we did. In between I had arranged with Christine to see James and spend a few hours with him a couple of times a week. The law did not seem to be putting too much effort into finding me, after making an initial token visit to Christine’s and my ma’s.

  Gordon and Pauline Mills were a couple who John and me knew really well and they would buy all the jewellery that we were able to steal. Another connection was that they had two daughters, Alison and Haley, and my brother Hughie was going out with Haley, the younger of the two. One Friday evening I asked Hughie if he would give me a lift over to Ma’s and he said Pauline would be glad to take me there as she had to drop off Alison. I found myself next to Alison who said, ‘Don’t be shy, Jim, squeeze up next to me. It’s freezing.’ Little did I know it but this was to be the opening line of a romance that would have devastating effects on everyone and Alison would prove to be the love of my life.

  Alison was 18 and was absolutely gorgeous and I mean Hollywood-movie-star gorgeous. She was truly stunning, standing about 5ft 6in with shoulder-length, blonde hair and amazing blue eyes. She had a perfect figure and she was the double of a young Marilyn Monroe. She also had the sweetest nature and the best personality of any female I have ever known, and there have been a few. Alison was highly intelligent with a sparkling sense of humour and was adored by everyone who knew her.

  I was a bit slow on the uptake but a couple of days later Alison called round to see how I was. I had only told her I was staying with friends for a while after breaking up with Christine. She wasn’t aware that I was in fact on my toes from the law. Alison made it clear that she was interested in me and even though I knew that this could be dangerous for me I was flattered. She also sparked something inside me that I hadn’t felt before. It made me feel good and so began a very intense, physical, sexy, loving and wonderful relationship which would only last a few short months but would squeeze in a lifetime of living. Even now, more than 30 years later, my heart misses a beat whenever I think of Alison.

  The danger of this relationship lay in the fact that Alison’s dad, Gordon, was a man who was respected and feared in equal measure and was not someone to be taken lightly. I knew that he would take a very dim view of any relationship I had with Alison, who was the apple of their eye. Consequently we had to be very careful, but even so it wasn’t too long before things came to a head.

  John came home one Friday afternoon and told me that he had just left Gordon and that he was on the warpath after being told that I was seeing Alison. John said, ‘Be very careful, Jim, as that Gordon is really handy and he is spitting nails at the thought of you with Alison.’

  I said, ‘Well, fuck him, John, I’ve no intention of waiting for him to come into the boozer like a fucking mad man. I’ll go round to his gaff and sort this out now, and if he wants it I’ll fucking do him on his doorstep.’

  John laughed when I said this and said in reply, ‘I should have known that would be your attitude, Jim, but be careful just the same. I’ll come with you.’

  I told John that I didn’t want him to do that and that this was something I had to do alone. It would have done neither of us any good for Gordon to be able to say that I needed backup.

  Gordon was on his own and I saw straight away that he was a bit shocked to see me. I detected a little bit of apprehension in him, so I went straight for the jugular. ‘I hear you have been looking for me, Gordon, and that you were going to get a hold of me tonight in the Wheatsheaf, so I thought I’d save you the trouble. What’s this all about?’

  He had regained his composure but I could see he was still a bit wary and rightly so. He may have been a bit feared but I was nobody’s mug. He knew that I was more than capable of bringing serious violence to the table if need be, so it was only right that he showed me a bit of respect. ‘Come in, Jim, we need to talk.’ He offered me a seat in the living room and sat on the sofa facing me and the atmosphere relaxed almost immediately. If there is going to be heavy violence then there is less chance of it starting from a sitting position, and I knew that by going to his door and confronting him I had taken the heat out of the situation and it had thrown him off balance.

  He very quickly got straight to the point. ‘I’ve been told that you are seeing my Alison and if that is true then I’m not happy about it and it’s going to stop or we will have a fall out.’

  I had no intention of not seeing Alison, but I knew I would have to give Gordon his place and pay him a bit of respect at least on the surface because he was a very proud man. So I said, ‘I don’t know who told you this, Gordon, but it is a fucking lie. Of course I see Alison in the pub and we play the odd game of pool now and again but that is all it is. There is nothing going on between us.’

  He said, ‘Right, Jim, fair enough, but I hope that is all it is. I appreciate you coming to my door like this so we could sort this out in private. It would have been a real shame if we were to have a falling out, know what I mean?’

  I got the message loud and clear and said to him, ‘Of course, Gordon, and neither of us wants that, but do me a favour will you? I’ll be in the Wheatsheaf at 8.30 tonight. It would be good if you showed face and came over and bought me a drink as per normal, because believe me the jungle drums have been beating and everyone is expecting a showdown. So let’s disappoint them all and nip this thing in the bud, eh?’

  ‘Good idea, Jim. I’ll see you tonight.’

  When I got in John told me how he had kept a constant eye on Gordon’s from his front window and had been expecting to see an ambulance screeching to a halt with one or both of us being carried out. He said, ‘You’ve got some balls, Jim. I wouldn’t have gone round to Gordy’s without a shooter in my pocket.’

  I said, ‘You needn’t have worried, John. I’m not that fucking stupid,’ and pulled an eight-inch butcher’s knife from my waistband.

  John laughed and said, ‘Fuck me, Jim, you are a dangerous little bastard. I love ya.’

  John and I agreed that it was very important that if I was to continue to see Alison that I had to be very careful that Gordon or Pauline did not become aware of the situation, because the last thing we needed right now was a war on our doorstep. We had enough on our plate with me being on the wanted list and with various earners that we had lined up, so from now on Alison and me had to be very discreet.

  Yet Alison had been a godsend for me. The break-up with Christine and not seeing my James so often had left a huge gap inside me and the empty feeling had returned with a vengeance. It is very difficult for me to describe this feeling. It may sound as if I was suffering from loneliness, but that isn’t it at all. I don’t mind being alone but I am not someone who feels lonely. No, it was like there was a part of me that was missing, something that everyone else had but not me and it is a horrible feeling. It never quite leaves me but when I have someone in my life then the feeling almost disappears.

  It was now only a week or so until Christmas 1976 and I would need to be extra vigilant as this was exactly the time of year when the lawmen were likely to make an unannounced appearance. I had as yet made no firm plans
regarding my long-term future, but sometimes fate steps in to make the choice for you, and sometimes it is given a little helping hand from someone who just doesn’t want you around any longer. Such was the case with me and it was to make the coming new year of 1977 one of the most traumatic in my life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I brought in 1977 in the company of John Renaldi, his wife Pauline, Tommy the Viking and various other friends in the Wheatsheaf pub and right by my side the whole evening was the beautiful Alison. Shortly after the bells Alison and me slipped away and spent the rest of the night in bed along with a bottle of quality Scotch, literally bringing in the new year with a bang! We partied for the next couple of days and then spent the rest of that week recovering.

  In the third week of January I arranged with Christine to have James for the day and met her in a quiet part of town to pick him up. We made our way to Thatcham by taxi and were walking past the Wheatsheaf when John came running out. ‘Quick, Jim, get inside,’ he said. ‘The law have been here looking for you and they are on the plot.’

  We quickly entered the pub and made our way to a back room where John told me exactly what had happened. Gordon and Pauline had been having me watched by an associate and knew I had spent the previous night with Alison. They were on the warpath. Gordon wanted my blood and was tooled up, determined to do me some damage. Pauline had phoned the old bill and informed them that I was on the scene and had been staying at John’s house. John had a right row with Gordon and Pauline and told them that he would make sure that everyone knew that Pauline was a grass. If I was arrested because of them then, he said, he would fucking shoot the pair of them.

  Alison entered the pub in a right state and was ushered through to the back room to join us. She told us that Gordon was almost insane with rage and had locked her in the house after telling her he was going to find and kill me. I said to her, ‘The best thing you can do is to return home before this gets really messy. I’m going to have to get James back to Christine and then I am going to disappear. It’s not safe for me to stay around here any longer.’