Fog on the Tyne

by Bernard O'Mahoney

  It was reported that two of the Harrisons wept when the judge passed sentence on them. They were big enough to try to burn down a house full of innocent people, and big enough to order the desecration of a grave, but it appears they couldn’t face serving a few years behind bars.

  Chapter Five

  VIV NO MORE IN ’94

  ON TYNESIDE, A romanticism surrounds the name and deeds of Viv Graham. He is remembered by the majority of Geordies as the fourth emergency service or as a swashbuckling Robin Hood-type gentleman. However, there are some who hold a conflicting view. To them, Viv Graham was little more than an egotistical bully.

  In February 1988, Viv was involved in an attack on a man named Carl Wattler that, by any man’s standards, can only be described as pretty disgusting. According to several witnesses, Viv had been working at a bar called Baxter’s and had ordered Wattler to drink up at closing time. Wattler had failed to do so fast enough for Viv’s liking and so suffered a crushing blow to the face. It is unclear what happened after that, but Wattler was seen shortly afterwards waiting for Viv by the exit doors. A fight broke out, and Wattler appeared to be getting the better of Viv when out of the shadows stepped one of Viv’s doormen, who smashed Wattler over the head with an iron bar. Carl Wattler was later found lying unconscious in the street. He was rushed to hospital, where a CT scan revealed that a large blood clot had formed at the base of his skull. Wattler underwent emergency surgery and then spent a considerable length of time in intensive care, where a ventilator was used to assist him with his breathing.

  Shortly after the attack on Wattler, ‘Skinny’ Gary Thompson, who had been charged with a number of offences following the ‘Free Paddy Conroy’ marches and subsequent riots, was alleged to have tried to shoot Viv. Some say it was a revenge attack because of what had happened to Wattler; others say Thompson was just a typical West Ender venting his anger because he had had enough of Viv Graham’s bullying behaviour.

  One morning in the early hours, as Viv and his friend Rob Armstrong walked from the Quayside towards Manhattan’s nightclub, they failed to notice a black Nissan vehicle that was shadowing them. When the vehicle suddenly accelerated past Viv and Armstrong, they thought that it was just another boy racer showing off to friends. That was until the driver jumped on the brakes and a gunman blew out the back window and opened fire with a pump-action shotgun. Armstrong shouted at Viv to move, but he appeared to be rooted to the spot with fear. Armstrong, who had his back to the gunman, dived on Viv, and both men fell to the floor. His act of undoubted heroism came with a price. Armstrong was shot in the back and shot again as he lay on top of Viv on the ground. An innocent bystander also suffered facial injuries after being struck by stray shotgun pellets. The incident was over as soon as it had begun. All the victims later recovered from their injuries, and ‘Skinny’ Gary Thompson, who had been arrested for the shooting, was released without charge.

  When Viv appeared in court and pleaded guilty to the attack on Wattler, many expected him to be sent to prison for a number of years. Wattler had survived the assault, but he had suffered permanent injury: he walked with a limp, endured regular and severe migraines and had sustained nerve damage that caused blurred vision in one eye. In his defence, Viv claimed that he was sorry and that, upon reflection, he might have acted ‘a bit hastily’. Judge Angus Stroyan sentenced Viv to 18 months’ imprisonment, which was suspended for 18 months. He was also ordered to pay a rather insulting £500 in compensation to his victim. Little wonder Viv was punching the air and laughing when he left the court building.

  On 22 August 1988, a man named Robert Bell spent the night drinking in Newcastle city centre. The Bigg Market is an area awash with pubs, clubs and restaurants, and Bell had arrived there just before closing time. It remains unclear exactly what happened, but at some stage Bell and others began fighting with a 24-year-old man named Peter Donnelly. Three people were arrested for public order offences, but Bell and Donnelly were allowed to walk away. According to eyewitnesses, Bell had got the better of Donnelly, who was less than happy about the situation.

  Bloodied and bruised, Donnelly decided to go home and get changed. It had been his intention to remain at home, but he was simply not prepared to lose face. Just after midnight, armed with a shotgun and a knife, Donnelly returned to Newcastle city centre, where he eventually found Bell sitting at a table in Santino’s restaurant with Viv Graham. An unidentified accomplice of Donnelly stood at the entrance to the restaurant with a knife as Donnelly approached Bell’s table armed with the shotgun. When Bell looked up from what could have been his last supper, he saw that the barrels of a shotgun were just inches from his face. Viv Graham snatched the weapon and threw it against the wall before Donnelly was able to squeeze the trigger.

  A confusing but extremely violent fight broke out, and diners began to run and scream in terror. The unidentified man who had been guarding the door came forward and held his knife to the stomach of Bell’s younger brother Ian. Somebody else ran up behind the knifeman and brought a chair crashing down upon his head. He immediately collapsed and lay motionless. Bell and Donnelly somehow ended up brawling in the back alley of Santino’s. As the two men traded punches, Bell suddenly fell back. He had been stabbed in the shoulder and heart. As blood pumped out of Bell’s chest, he screamed for assistance and Viv was soon on hand to help him once more. Viv punched Donnelly, breaking his jaw, and then began to administer first aid to the dying man.

  Miraculously, the knife had not penetrated deep into Bell’s heart, and Viv was able to stem the flow of blood until an ambulance arrived. From his hospital bed, Bell named Donnelly as his attacker. Both his brother Ian and Viv Graham also made statements telling police what they had witnessed. Donnelly was charged with attempted murder, wounding with intent, possessing a firearm with intent of endangering life and possessing a firearm without a firearm licence. He was remanded in custody to await trial.

  It is rumoured on Tyneside that Bell was financially compensated on the condition that he did not implicate Donnelly at the trial. Whatever the truth may be, when Bell entered the witness box he suffered a bout of acute amnesia. He could not remember what had happened that night or who had attacked him. Bell’s amnesia proved to be extremely contagious, because not only his brother but also Viv Graham suffered from it too. The jury unsurprisingly found Peter Donnelly not guilty of all charges, and the judge ordered his immediate release.

  A few months after Viv had displayed the type of behaviour that has led many Geordies to believe he was a hero, he was involved in yet another cowardly attack on an innocent person. It is alleged that Stephen Sayers had been refused entry at a nightclub in Newcastle called Hobo’s. Stuart Watson, the head doorman at the venue, had made it known that he didn’t want the Sayers brothers or their firm frequenting the club, because, according to him, they had no respect for the other customers and treated the place as if they owned it. Stephen Sayers had tried to square up to Watson when he was refused entry, but Watson had stood his ground and Sayers was forced to walk away. It is said that, that same week, Sayers met Viv and falsely claimed that Watson had broken the jaws of two young lads while ejecting them from Hobo’s. Sayers knew that Viv objected to this type of behaviour by door staff and so added that he had remonstrated with Watson, who had allegedly told him that he wasn’t afraid of the Sayers family, nor did he care what Viv Graham thought about the way he did his job.

  Viv’s ego was as big as his biceps, and so he was easily wound up by this comment. Together with Alan ‘Fish’ Tams, David Lancaster, Rob Armstrong, John Thompson and Stephen Sayers, Viv made his way to Hobo’s and asked the receptionist to fetch Stuart Watson. Rather than comply with Viv’s request, the receptionist fled upstairs and telephoned the police. Moments later, Watson appeared in the reception area and Viv began to punch him repeatedly in the face. In fairness to Watson, he was struck at least 20 times by Viv and never went down. In fact, he parried many of the punches and made no effort whatsoever to hit back. I
t is accepted that Watson didn’t hit back because he was, understandably, scared. Watson had seen who had attended to back Viv up and rather wisely realised that if he did fight back they were more than likely to join in.

  After throwing an array of ineffective punches, Viv began to tire, and so he resorted to grabbing Watson and throwing him about like a rag doll. To this day, CCTV footage of the attack captured by the nightclub’s security system can be viewed on the website YouTube. The assault looks a lot worse than it actually was. Watson appears to have been knocked all over the place, but if you look closely you will see that it is his oversized jacket that is moving rather than anything else. Watson was quite right to assume that he would have been in a more dangerous situation if he had fought back, because as the brawl spilt out onto the dance floor Sayers and others began kicking him, although he still refused to go down.

  It later emerged that a male and a female police officer had witnessed the attack. Working undercover, they had been assigned to attend the club to gather intelligence about a suspected drug dealer. One would assume that police officers present during the attack of an innocent man would be duty-bound to intervene or at least to alert their colleagues, but Viv seemed to enjoy a special relationship with some members of Northumbria Police. When the gang walked out of Hobo’s nightclub, Watson was bleeding profusely, but he was still on his feet. The police did eventually arrive, but Watson refused to assist them. For a time, it looked as if Viv was going to escape justice, but when all the other gang members were identified from the CCTV footage the police felt compelled to act.

  In July 1990, Watson’s attackers appeared in court before Judge Mary MacMurray to face charges of violent disorder and wounding. All pleaded guilty, and they were sentenced to a total of fourteen years and two months’ imprisonment. Lancaster, Armstrong, Tams and Sayers received two and a half years each; Thompson was sentenced to four months; and Viv was sentenced to three years, plus the remaining ten months of his suspended sentence, which had been imposed for the attack on Wattler.

  Viv, having acquired a criminal record for assaulting Wattler and having then been sent to prison for the cowardly attack on Watson, should have been banned from working on the doors of pubs and nightclubs according to regulations that were implemented under the Door Supervisors Registration Scheme in May 1992. For reasons known only to Viv and Northumbria Police, a blind eye was turned and he was permitted to be excluded from the scheme and do as he wished. There are some who believe that he was the eyes and ears of the police and that it was important to them that he should be allowed to mingle with and befriend the criminal fraternity that frequented clubland.

  A short while after Viv was released from prison, he confronted Michael Sayers in a Newcastle nightclub. Eyewitnesses described Sayers as ‘cowering with fear’ when Viv accused him of trying to distribute drugs on the premises. A minor scuffle ensued, and Sayers left the club via a fire exit, with Viv in hot pursuit. Sayers suffered only minor physical injuries, but his ego was severely dented. Viv may have got away with assaulting the likes of Carl Wattler, but he had also assaulted Michael Conroy the night that Paddy had been sentenced to five years’ imprisonment and had now assaulted a member of the Sayers family. For at least one of those attacks, somebody somewhere was bound to make him pay.

  Viv’s biggest problem was that he was a loner operating in a city steeped in family history and deep-seated loyalties. The Conroy and the Sayers families had fathers, sons and brothers who were villains, and each of those family members had numerous friends who were fiercely loyal to them. Viv had little more than casual acquaintances he had made in bars, nightclubs or the gym. He had given these fair-weather friends jobs working on the doors of various clubs, and in return they had pledged their allegiance to him. Such people inevitably lack that unique commitment created by strong family ties.

  Whichever way you look at it, Viv Graham’s actions were going to get him killed, and there is evidence to suggest that he knew it. He often told his partner, Anna Connelly, that he would never reach 40 years of age. Anna’s brother Peter Connelly had once asked Viv who he thought would be most likely to shoot him, and without hesitation he had replied that it would be one of the Sayers firm.

  On Christmas Eve 1993, Paddy Conroy went to the Rob Paul jeweller’s shop in Newcastle with a friend, Dave Garside. Paddy had to pick up a Christmas present that he had chosen for his partner, Maureen, the week before. The shop was packed with Christmas shoppers, and, just to make Paddy’s journey to the counter more difficult, two enormous men stood directly in front of him and blocked his view of the sales assistants. Paddy leant around one of the men to catch the proprietor’s attention. ‘Have you got Maureen’s chain?’ Paddy asked when the manager, whom he had known for a number of years, finally saw him.

  ‘There you go,’ the manager replied as he handed Paddy the gold chain. ‘I’m rushed off my feet at the moment, so pop back in next week and pay me for it.’

  Paddy thanked the manager, wished him and his staff a Merry Christmas and then left the shop with Garside. As Paddy and Garside walked back to their car, the two huge men who had been in the jeweller’s came bounding towards them calling out Paddy’s name. Paddy did not recognise the men, and the blank expression on his face must have made that fact obvious to them. ‘It’s me. Viv. You know me, Paddy. I’m Viv Graham,’ one of the men said. Paddy exchanged pleasantries with Viv and introduced him and his friend to Garside. All the men shook hands. Paddy didn’t really want anything to do with Viv, because he had fought his brother Michael, but being rude isn’t his style. As Paddy turned to walk away, Viv said, ‘Here, Paddy, I am told that the Sayers firm and the Conroys are coming down the town tonight to take over my doors.’

  ‘Who told you that shite?’ Paddy replied. ‘If the Conroys were going to do anything, you would see or feel it, not hear about it.’ Viv appeared unsure as to how to take Paddy’s remark, and so he said that it was just a rumour he had heard and that he wanted to know if it was true. ‘Put it this way, Viv,’ Paddy said. ‘If people do cause trouble with you tonight, do what you have to do, because there will be no Conroy men there.’

  Viv’s reaction was comical. He did a kind of war dance with his arms raised high above his head. ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ he shouted. ‘Bring it on.’

  That night, members of the Sayers firm went to the club where Viv was working, and a fight broke out. Viv smashed one of the firm repeatedly and broke his jaw; the rest were chased down the street. Viv Graham didn’t know it, but, deeper and deeper, he was digging his own grave.

  As the clock struck 12 a.m. on Saturday, 1 January 1994, a lot of Geordies were celebrating something other than the start of a new year. ‘Viv no more in ’94!’ they chanted as the champagne corks popped. The news that Viv Graham had died after being gunned down in cold blood spread through Newcastle like wildfire and created a carnival atmosphere. Twelve hours earlier, Viv had been at home with his partner, Anna Connelly, before going to visit his parents and a childhood sweetheart named Gillian Lowes. He had wished his family and friend a Happy New Year before returning to Anna to spend what would be his last few hours on earth with her.

  While researching this book, the author asked Anna Connelly if she would meet with him so that he could ask her in detail about events that day. Anna agreed, and in November 2008 the author met her at the Ship Inn, which is situated beneath Byker Bridge in the East End of Newcastle. Nearly 15 years had passed since Viv’s murder, but Anna’s love and passion for her man had more than stood the test of time. She told the author that she had initially hated those who had taken Viv’s life but she now felt sorry for them. The following is Anna’s version of events concerning the day that Viv Graham met his death: ‘The night before Viv died, he had been at home with me. My sister was due to fly to Tenerife the following morning, and he had agreed to take her to Newcastle airport. Viv had told me before he left that once he had dropped my sister off he was going to call in at a friend’s and his parents�
� house. Once he had wished them all a Happy New Year, he was then going to return home. I cannot now recall the time that he arrived back at our house, but I do remember that we laid out all of the clothes that we were going to wear that night on the bed. We always dressed smartly, and so getting ready to go out was a bit of a ritual, as we both liked everything to be just so. We had planned to have a drink with friends in Newcastle and then welcome in the New Year at a pub in Wallsend High Street.

  ‘Before getting dressed, Viv said that he had to go down the town to check if everything was in order at the numerous venues where his door staff worked. Shortly after he had left the house, I received several silent phone calls. I was not unduly worried at the time. I thought that it was probably some drunken idiot playing a prank, but following Viv’s murder it dawned on me that it was probably his killers trying to find out if he was home. I was tempted to stop answering the phone, but as it was New Year’s Eve I thought I had better, just in case friends or family were trying to contact me.

  ‘Viv had gone for a drink at a pub called the New Anchor in Wallsend High Street. Whilst there, the landlord had called Viv over to the bar, passed him a phone and said, “It’s for you.” As soon as Viv had hung up the phone, he told the landlord that he had just received a death threat. Witnesses later told the police that Viv had tried to disguise his fear but they had noticed that he did look troubled by the call. About an hour after Viv had left me, he rang to ask if I had received any “funny phone calls”. He said that he had received a number of calls from a man with a Geordie accent who was saying that he was going to be shot. The calls were threatening rather than well-meaning. Viv did not seem too concerned, but, knowing him as I did, I think it would have certainly made him more vigilant that night. That is what I do not understand about the way in which he was murdered. He was always so alert, expecting and ready for the unexpected to happen. This may sound odd, but Viv knew that he was going to die young; he used to say to me, “I will never see my 40th birthday.” Something was obviously going on in his head. Something or somebody was warning him, and he clearly believed them. Sadly, he was right to do so.