Bible John. - Bible Johns Secret Daughter: Murder, Drugs and a Mothers Secret Heartbreak

About the Author

David Leslie has worked for the News of the World since 1970. He has covered scores of major stories, including the tragedies of Zeebrugge, Piper Alpha, Lockerbie and Dunblane. He has been based in Glasgow since 1994, concentrating on crime and major investigations. He is also the author of the bestselling Crimelord: The Licensee , about the elusive multimillionaire gangster Tam McGraw.

Murder, Drugs and a Mothers Secret Heartbreak

David Leslie

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licenced or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors and publishers rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Epub ISBN: 9781780571201

Version 1.0

www.mainstreampublishing.com

Copyright David Leslie, 2007

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

First published in Great Britain in 2007 by

MAINSTREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY (EDINBURGH) LTD

7 Albany Street

Edinburgh EH1 3UG

ISBN 9781845962289

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any other means without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for insertion in a magazine, newspaper or broadcast

This book is a work of non-fiction based on the life, experiences and recollections of those close to Hannah Martin. In some cases, names of people and places, dates, sequences or the detail of events have been changed to protect the privacy of others. The author has stated to the publishers that, except in such respects, not affecting the substantial accuracy of the work, the contents of this book are true.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Hannah Martin died in penury. But had her wealth been counted in the number and loyalty of her friends she would have been rich indeed. Many have contributed to the telling of her story, but it is to Hannahs closest friend that I am especially indebted, not just for the generosity of her memories and time but also for her integrity, honesty and determination that this should be a true story. This delightful lady has asked not to be identified publicly, but she knows who she is and I am so grateful to her.

For reasons I explain in the story, Hannah called her own daughter Isobel, a name I retain throughout, even though it is not one by which she is now known. It is easy to see why she has blossomed in the career she chose. Her charm and intelligence have made every one of our many meetings a delight and she opened so many doors for me. To know her is a privilege and she exudes a pride in her mother that humbles the listener.

My thanks also to my photographic colleagues, George Wright and Gary Jamieson; to Graeme Mason for his hospitality and candour; to Innes Smith for wise and kind thoughts; to Deborah Warner, my editor at Mainstream, for patience and positive help; and to Hannah Martin.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

It was while researching material for my first book, Crimelord: The Licensee , that I first learned of Hannah Martin. She had been the star prosecution witness at the trial of 11 men accused of smuggling cannabis into Scotland under the floors of holiday coaches. It had been the biggest and most successful racket ever, grossing close to 50 million, making very rich some of the most astute and leaving leading European criminal gangs agape at the sheer simplicity yet genius of it. A host of police forces were baffled as to why it had operated for so long without their knowledge.

Time after time, I wondered who Hannah Martin was and why she was so important, but no one seemed able or willing to tell me. For all her significance, very little had been written about this woman, once the mistress of one of the accused men, Graeme Mason. One of the reasons for this was that restrictions had been placed on the reporting of the mens lengthy trial in Edinburgh during the spring and summer of 1998. The other accused were due in the dock once the initial trial was over; therefore, the Crown did not want to risk a defence charge that their own claim to innocence had been prejudiced by sensationalism.

Many of those I interviewed while writing Crimelord were adamant Hannah Martin was a key player in the smugglers downfall, but finding anyone who knew her or would talk about her proved an elusive and eventually unsuccessful mission. She had simply disappeared; it was almost as though she had never existed.

After the book was launched, I was contacted by its publisher, Mainstream, and told that a reader who wanted to discuss Crimelord with me had left a telephone number with a request that I get in touch.

When I called, a woman answered and I introduced myself.

In a pleasant, friendly voice she said she had enjoyed the book. Did you try to find Hannah Martin? she then asked.

I replied I had, then explained, She seems to have vanished. Lots of people remember her, but nobody knows where she went or what happened to her after the trial. There were times when I wondered if she really existed.

She was certainly very much involved in it, the woman told me, but the drugs and smuggling affair was only one of many parts of her life.

Then she must be some remarkable lady, I answered. By now, I was desperate to learn more. You obviously know her.

In a way, yes, but I can promise you Hannah Martins story is an incredible one. Would you like to hear it?

Of course, but who are you?

Im Hannah Martins daughter, something of which Im very proud. I think we should meet because I would like to tell you about my mother.

ONE

DANCE CRAZY

Hannah Martin loved to dance, but then so did most in the west of Scotland. In Glasgow especially they were dancing potty and she among the most fervent. If Hannah had had her way, she would have danced seven nights a week, which was possible thanks to the abundance of dance halls the city had to offer. Some even opened at lunchtime. Slow and quick foxtrots, paso dobles, waltzes; each step, each movement was second nature to her. And not only the female pattern: if men were too shy to ask, or if there was a temporary shortage caused by their being late, as they drank courage down their throats or had to work overtime at their jobs, then Hannah would simply dance with a girlfriend, the pair taking it in turn to lead or be led.

Dancing was Hannahs escape from unhappy memories and a wearisome home life with her parents, Jessie and Malcolm. Maybe it was all she needed because while the occasional one of her more adventurous friends looked for a liqueur to end their nights menu of twists, turns, left changes and promenades, a nightcap of sexual dalliance by allowing a fondle or maybe more in a dark place or quiet street before heading homewards, sex didnt seem to especially interest her. Hannah was a good girl, saving the joys her body would offer for Mr Right, if and when he appeared. Like many others, a kiss on the doorstep was as much as she expected to give or receive.

Pals even thought her naive about the subject of sex, but then this was the 1960s, the Swinging 60s, as they would be remembered. In todays uninhibited society, the term swinger has come to mean a man or woman keen to experiment with a variety of partners, but the 60s swung because the music made people want to do just that swing your partner around the dance hall, or if there was no one to hold nearby just swing yourself. Rock and roll had arrived and, as it established itself, the music encouraged the rise of bands that would ultimately cause the demise of ballroom dancing. The television boom was taking off, bringing with it a change in lifestyle, so instead of bouncing about on their feet some now preferred putting them up to watch others make the effort. The dance hall era, when floors would be packed each night of the week, was on the cusp of decline. The goggle box made groups like the Rolling Stones and Manfred Mann into household names, instantly available at the push of a button, and their concerts money-spinning sell-outs, encouraging hall owners to ponder whether they ought to change direction and fill their arenas with seats. This was the dilemma that would come to venues such as Glasgows Majestic Ballroom, the Locarno, the Dennistoun Palais, the Plaza, St Andrews Halls, the F and F Palais de Danse, the West End Ballroom and the best-known and much-loved Barrowland Ballroom in the citys east end.