Michael Connor - The Soho Don

Michael Howard had not seen his father for many yearsand towards the end of Billy Howard's life, Michael and Billy shared a flat onthe seafront of the south coast seaside town of Margate. During thatperiod they would sit in a corner of The Cottage public house, a favouritehaunt, and in beach deckchairs, during which time Bill talked at great length,and with candour, about his life as a villain at the top of the criminalunderworld.

For many years, it has been difficult to pulltogether the complex strings of Billy Howard's existence. Many peoplehave now died, leaving the way clear to disclose facts that, during theirlifetimes, would have been inappropriate. But it would be wrong to saythis book has been written with the good wishes of both the criminal world andthe celebrities on whose lives Billy Howard had a commanding effect. Manyseem to feel some things remain best unsaid. Phone calls have been madeand subsequently doors have been firmly closed.

Despite this, the book has been written with much ofthe day-to-day events recreated, conversations reconstructed and events playedout. Information has been obtained, cross-referenced and, where possible,verified by one of the people present at the time.

The conversations between Michael Howard and hisfather have had a strong bearing on the book. Of the early years,Michael's mother, Vera, was able to provide a great deal of background andBill's wife Jan, was a source of information for the middle years. BillyHoward tried to avoid publicity. Unlike the Krays he considered it bad forbusiness, so press cuttings have been of use, albeit to a lesser extent. However, it should always be remembered that people involved in crime, be theyvillains or a corrupt police force, seek to bury the truth, while other membersof the criminal scene seek to paint the picture with their own colours toenhance their egos or to dispel their own failings.

In The Soho Don Ihave sought to show the truth without fear or favour, both the highs and thelows. That is my right. I expect there to be many dissenters.

CHAPTER ONE

Find Billy Howard

That's the old cow, down there, the man sitting in the frontseat growled, partly to the driver and partly to the two men sitting behindhim. He pointed with a hand-rolled cigarette at the moving image of amiddle-aged woman, walking in and out of pools of light some 20 yards ahead,the fur collar of an astrakhan fur collared coat pulled up around herface. ave her legs off, he added at almost the same time assniffing snot back up his nostrils and coughing.

Drive down and round the corner, a voice from theback mumbled, also coughing on the cigarette smoke that filled the car, windowsclosed to retain warmth.

The black car cruised past the woman, and some 50yards further on turned the corner. Deep shadow covered thepavement. The driver brought the vehicle quietly to a halt and the fourdark-suited men got out. Their scarred faces and broken features gavetheir smart, expensively suited appearance an incongruent air. Menacing. It was cold, colder than it had been in London. Thedriver would have preferred to have remained in the car, mounted the pavementand done her legs, as the front seat passenger had suggested, but they had beentold to scare her, put the shits up her. No more.

As Elizabeth Lawrence drew level, one of the menpulled her around the corner by her shoulder and pushed her, almost casually,into the arms of one of the others. The smell of cheap perfume and bodyodour caught his nostrils. Gently he pushed her back again, glad to havethe salt air return. They were playing with her. The four menformed a circle. She was piggy in the middle.

What d'ya want? She asked in a falteringvoice, sweat having broken out on her face despite the chill wind.

We're Billy Howard's boys, see. And we've gota message for ya, one of them answered, in a clearly menacing tone.

It was nearing midnight on this wintry Novembernight, and the streets were empty and damp. The sound of her heels echoedaround the buildings. All the windows were in darkness, except for a fewon the upper floors of the townhouses towards the top of the street. Itseemed unlikely that any sound would attract attention. The men feltsafe. The woman did not.

I don't know Billy Howard, she told them, the toneof her voice pleading the case that they had stopped the wrong person.

I know love, but he knows you, another of thegroup said, giving her a shove, only this time harder.

He told us to tell you not ta say anything againsthis friends in court, one of them told her, speaking slowly. His voicetrembled, but not from any fear. The icy chill had penetrated his thinjacket and his shirt provided no protection.

The driver took a razor from his pocket, opened itand put the cold flat side of the stainless steel blade against her cold, wetcheek. It flashed in the light. When pressed, it cut into the skinformed by layers of cheap make-up. Harder, it would have slicedflesh. You'd better do as 'e says, 'cause if ya don't Billy Howard'sgoing to come down 'ere himself and he'll cut ya tongue out and chop you up.

One of them chuckled and pushed her again across thecircle. This time nobody caught her. She fell against the wall andstumbled, her foot twisting off her tall-heeled shoe. The four men walkedback over to the car, got in and, appreciating the shelter, drove off.

It was this incident Gerald Howard QC reported to thecourt the following day.

o0o

Counsel for the prosecution, Mr Gerald Howard QC, part of thefour- strong team headed by the Solicitor General, Sir Harry Hylton-Forster QC,rose and gravely addressed the Bench. The shuffling of chairs and thewhispered background chat stopped. His demeanour, the solemn set of his faceand slow deliberation of his voice immediately captured the attention of hisaudience. For the next few moments he knew he held the entire court withinhis power. It was an advantage he intended to play to the hilt. TheBench, the defence and the public waited and weighed each word. A highpriest addressing the minions, the tone of his statement could have madeinnocent men tremble.

Last night a woman witness for the prosecution inthis case, Mrs Elizabeth Lawrence, who has not yet been called, was threatenedby persons who said they were Billy Howard's boys. He stopped, glancedaround him, allowing the drama to build. They said that she would be cutup with a razor if she gave evidence. There was an audible silence from thepublic gallery, preceded by a collective intake of breath. He waited,held the moment and then continued. It is right that I should make itplain that there is no evidence to connect any of the accused with this. But you may think it right and proper to warn Billy Howard's boys not tointerfere with witnesses.