Read Online Me and My Brothers by Charlie Kray - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlie Kray
Ads: Link
done was change Ronnie’s appearance; he still looked like Reggie. When Reggie put on a blue suit, white shirt and blue tie, similar to those Ronnie wore in hospital, only those who knew them well could spot the difference. When Reggie had his hair cut as short as Ronnie’s and put on a pair of glasses, even I had trouble telling them apart.
The switch was a simple operation. Leaving some friends in a couple of cars outside the hospital grounds, Reggie went in to see Ronnie as though it was just another routine visit. They sat chatting at a table in the small visiting hall and waited until a patrolling male nurse’s back was turned. Ronnie whipped off his glasses; Reggie slipped his on. Then they quickly but discreetly changed places.
When they were sure no one had noticed the change-over, Ronnie got up and sauntered over to a door which visitors were allowed to go through to fetch tea and biscuits. The nurse, assuming he was Reggie, opened the door and Ronnie walked out. But he didn’t go for tea; he walked straight out of the hospital into the grounds. One of the hospital staff came towards him on a bike and Ronnie tensed. But the man merely nodded a greeting and rode past. Ronnie walked on and on until he reached the gate, and then he spotted the cars Reggie had told him about and he was gone.
Reggie waited for about half an hour, then he went up to the nurse on the door and said, ‘Excuse me, Ron’s been a long time getting the tea. I didn’t think they were allowed to get the tea.’
The nurse looked puzzled. ‘You’re Ronnie,’ he said.
Reggie shook his head. ‘I’m Reggie. Ronnie went to get the tea. I’m getting worried.’
The nurse stared at Reggie closely. He must have believed him, because he ran off, a worried look on hisface. Then all hell broke loose. An alarm bell went off. Hospital staff started running around. And then the police arrived.
Someone said to Reggie, ‘This is all down to you.’
But Reggie pleaded innocence. ‘I just came to see him. He went to get the tea, then everyone got excited.’
To confirm Reggie’s story, the police took his finger-prints and checked them with the Criminal Records Office at Scotland Yard.
‘You are Reg Kray,’ someone commented.
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last hour,’ said Reg. Then he added, straight-faced, ‘I’m worried. What’s happened to him?’
‘Do us a favour,’ one copper said impatiently. ‘You know what’s happened.’
But Reggie kept saying he didn’t. And they kept him there for a couple of hours before letting him go.
By then, Ronnie was in a beautiful, expensive flat in St John’s Wood. Not for long, though. When he arrived, he took one look round and said, ‘I don’t like this. You can get me out of here.’ And we did – the next morning. Ronnie was like that. It wouldn’t have occurred to him that we’d gone to a lot of trouble and expense to get him a ‘safe’ house. He just didn’t like the place and that was that.
That day, the Superintendent of Long Grove got in touch with us and asked us to see him at the hospital. He said we’d made a serious mistake: Ronnie wasn’t well and should have stayed there for treatment. We played dumb, but the Superintendent laughed. He said he admired how it had been done: there had been no trouble, no one had been hurt. But, nevertheless, we had made a mistake. And he warned us that we would find out he was right.
For the next few months Reggie and I had our work cut out running our businesses while keeping Ronnie aheadof the law. The escape was big news and stories of his whereabouts flooded the East End: he was reliably reported to be in the Bahamas, New York, Malta, the Cote d’Azur, Southern Spain and goodness knows where else. In fact, he never strayed further north than Finchley or further west than Fulham. He took a few chances to visit Mum in Vallance Road, and the first visit proved very traumatic for him. While he was there,
The switch was a simple operation. Leaving some friends in a couple of cars outside the hospital grounds, Reggie went in to see Ronnie as though it was just another routine visit. They sat chatting at a table in the small visiting hall and waited until a patrolling male nurse’s back was turned. Ronnie whipped off his glasses; Reggie slipped his on. Then they quickly but discreetly changed places.
When they were sure no one had noticed the change-over, Ronnie got up and sauntered over to a door which visitors were allowed to go through to fetch tea and biscuits. The nurse, assuming he was Reggie, opened the door and Ronnie walked out. But he didn’t go for tea; he walked straight out of the hospital into the grounds. One of the hospital staff came towards him on a bike and Ronnie tensed. But the man merely nodded a greeting and rode past. Ronnie walked on and on until he reached the gate, and then he spotted the cars Reggie had told him about and he was gone.
Reggie waited for about half an hour, then he went up to the nurse on the door and said, ‘Excuse me, Ron’s been a long time getting the tea. I didn’t think they were allowed to get the tea.’
The nurse looked puzzled. ‘You’re Ronnie,’ he said.
Reggie shook his head. ‘I’m Reggie. Ronnie went to get the tea. I’m getting worried.’
The nurse stared at Reggie closely. He must have believed him, because he ran off, a worried look on hisface. Then all hell broke loose. An alarm bell went off. Hospital staff started running around. And then the police arrived.
Someone said to Reggie, ‘This is all down to you.’
But Reggie pleaded innocence. ‘I just came to see him. He went to get the tea, then everyone got excited.’
To confirm Reggie’s story, the police took his finger-prints and checked them with the Criminal Records Office at Scotland Yard.
‘You are Reg Kray,’ someone commented.
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last hour,’ said Reg. Then he added, straight-faced, ‘I’m worried. What’s happened to him?’
‘Do us a favour,’ one copper said impatiently. ‘You know what’s happened.’
But Reggie kept saying he didn’t. And they kept him there for a couple of hours before letting him go.
By then, Ronnie was in a beautiful, expensive flat in St John’s Wood. Not for long, though. When he arrived, he took one look round and said, ‘I don’t like this. You can get me out of here.’ And we did – the next morning. Ronnie was like that. It wouldn’t have occurred to him that we’d gone to a lot of trouble and expense to get him a ‘safe’ house. He just didn’t like the place and that was that.
That day, the Superintendent of Long Grove got in touch with us and asked us to see him at the hospital. He said we’d made a serious mistake: Ronnie wasn’t well and should have stayed there for treatment. We played dumb, but the Superintendent laughed. He said he admired how it had been done: there had been no trouble, no one had been hurt. But, nevertheless, we had made a mistake. And he warned us that we would find out he was right.
For the next few months Reggie and I had our work cut out running our businesses while keeping Ronnie aheadof the law. The escape was big news and stories of his whereabouts flooded the East End: he was reliably reported to be in the Bahamas, New York, Malta, the Cote d’Azur, Southern Spain and goodness knows where else. In fact, he never strayed further north than Finchley or further west than Fulham. He took a few chances to visit Mum in Vallance Road, and the first visit proved very traumatic for him. While he was there,
Similar Books
