Fry - The Krays : the final countdown : the ultimate biography of Ron, Reg and Charlie Kray

Contents

Dedication

The Krays loved their Mum so it would appear fitting to dedicate this book to my mother who, like Violet Kray, had the great satisfaction and undoubted immense irritation of raising twins.

Being a twin is a great privilege, but it is also a responsibility. I was often blamed for my brothers misdemeanours as he was for mine. In the end, though, it worked out even although I am sure that my brother Rod would dispute that vehemently over a drink or two.

Violet took great pride in her twins, and her eldest son too but Charlie Kray didnt get many of the advantages, only the responsibilities. And could Charlie or his mum tell the twins apart?

Who is who and who did what? Was it you, or you or both of you? I can hear Violet calling to her twins, Come here Ronnie/Reggie! I am sure all twins in the world can identify with that. And I am equally sure that all mothers of twins, no matter where they may be, understand the importance of being a twin.

So my mother is special, just as Violet called her twins special. In fact the whole twin relationship is something that needs further explanation and analysis and I have already attempted this in my book The Kray Files, also published by Mainstream Publishing. This biography, however, has not been designed to explain, but to present the facts and only the facts.

This ones for you, Mum!

Dedicated to Mrs Rosetta Ellen Fry.

Acknowledgements

To everyone who has helped me to become a writer, especially Bill Campbell of Mainstream Publishing who doesnt mind paying for the privilege of publishing a book about the notorious Kray brothers.

For those of you who think that a writer should not be paid for writing stories about people such as the Krays, I acknowledge a debt of gratitude. After all, I am a writer and writing is what I do. Without the constant hassle and all the dubious arguments that I have had to face through the years, I would most likely not have been able to thoroughly enjoy writing about gangsters. It is now, however, something that I consider to be a part of my life and therefore worthy of the writing. I ask simply Why not? and I have never had a satisfactory reply. But all that bickering has helped to focus my mind on the process of organising and administrating the writing process and the result is The Krays The Final Countdown.

I have been privileged to work with many people throughout the years some of them major, some minor. But life itself is a learning curve and when embarking on a career we never really know where it may lead. I started out writing songs and acting in movies, then I worked in the oil business and the record business and now I write books and film scripts. My mentor through recent years has been an American, Charles Rosenblatt, a man of many talents. Thanks to him I undertook a university degree at the age of 50 and his encouragement has helped me with my projects both films and books time and time again. Without Charles as my guide during the writing experience I seriously doubt whether I would have made it. My thanks also go to his lovely wife, Denise.

And I would like to extend a personal and public thank you to the Krays without whom, obviously, this book would not exist. Ron and Reg Kray were helpful, as always, by staying in the news even up to their deaths, and I will always fondly remember hearing Ron tell his outrageous stories when I visited him in Broadmoor. But the sad way in which Charlie Kray died will stay with me forever. He was not a bad man, but he had a couple of brothers who terrorised the East End of London and who killed for a living.

Call it selective or false memory if you will but I will always remember Charlie Kray as a great womaniser, a fun person to be with, as the true Del-boy of real life.

Introduction

The East End of London has seen some bloody times from the chaos caused by that caped crusader Jack the Ripper, to the havoc wreaked throughout Bethnal Green and the Mile End Road by those kings of crime, the Krays. Their doings and killings were only matched back then by the blitzkrieg of the Second World War, but these murderers of London did their dirty deeds in peace time, where ordinary people were trying to make a living, trying to stay out of trouble, trying to get ahead in life. Death, though, has always stalked the shady streets of the East End.

I first met Charlie Kray in 1985 in a pub just off the Mile End Road. He was a charmer, a real diamond geezer and didnt the ladies know it. Always the centre of attention, Charlie Kray was constantly on the look-out for a nice little earner, as he would call it. He liked to put people together. (Ultimately he would put a couple of low-life drug-dealers together with an undercover cop and there went the neighbourhood!)

He was introduced to me as a man with connections within the music industry. And since my business was to buy and sell records and CDs, we had a chat. During the conversation he mentioned that he had a couple of brothers who were twins, but when I asked about them his whole manner and tone changed.

Theyre in jail but they should be out soon, he told me straight. His demeanour had changed totally he looked embarrassed as he tried to mingle with the other guests. A friend took me aside and explained the situation.

His brothers are the notorious Kray twins Ron and Reg Kray he told me in a whisper. But it didnt mean anything to me I had lived abroad for some 20 years and the name Kray hadnt been on the top of any editors most wanted list in Denmark.

Again I approached Charlie and we began to talk.

So your brothers are in jail? I said casually.

He gave me a quick look-over and decided that I was no threat; neither cop nor crook. Gradually he opened up and began to talk all about the old days and how they had run something called the Firm. This was all very interesting, since I had never met a gangster before. Sure, I had met some dodgy dealers in my time, crooks who called themselves businessmen. But gangsters that was something completely different. Over the years to come I would be proud to call Charlie Kray my friend.

By the time he died, Charlie had tried it all from selling knick-knacks in an East End market, to trying to put together a consortium to clean up the sands of Kuwait after the Gulf War. He even tried to import fruit and veg. from Nigeria but even that scheme went rotten. His only way out was to deal in drugs. But Charlie was never interested in supplying cocaine he only wanted the money. Still, he did the deal, and in the end he died in jail.

It was Charlie who introduced me to his brothers the Kray Twins. I was naturally keen to meet them, since I too am a twin and twins who terrorised London were a must on my must-see list. Ron and Reg Kray were not a disappointment.

I first met Ron Kray one sunny summers day in 1988. I had arranged to meet him in the meeting-hall at Broadmoor Hospital, where he had resided for many years. When I got there a guard opened the huge doors and ushered me in to the open yard, which separated the gatehouse from the main living-quarters. The first thing that struck me was the string of keys on his belt more keys than it would take to open Fort Knox. I was beginning to wonder where we were going, when he opened yet another locked door and showed me into a large, dark, damp hall. This was it then now or never.