weighed in at about two hundred and forty pounds. He was in his early fifties but remained undiminished for it. There was no sense that Kinane had seen his better years and was on the wane. Certainly no one was brave enough to suggest this to him. Pride alone would have forced him to knock them into a different post code.
Kinane had been talent-spotted by Bobby Mahoney while still a young man. Back then Bobby hadn’t been the top dog. He was still an emerging force, carving out a name and a reputation for himself. He had reached the stage where he had earned respect from those within his profession, but there were a number of candidates who could just as easily have taken on the role of Top Boy in the city and he was merely one of them. Another candidate was Alex Clarke who, along with his two brothers, came from a long line of criminal stock. They were hardened villains whose father and uncles had been frightening people for two decades before they came along. The rise of the Clarkes seemed almost pre-ordained in those days. Certainly Bobby was aware of them and would have been wary of their reputation, which involved a ruthless and enthusiastic use of violence.
The Clarke brothers decided to take over a pub they’d taken a liking to. It was on the outskirts of town but doing well because it was right opposite a thriving club they also had their eye on. The brothers gave the owner an ultimatum; sell to them for way below market value or stay put and have the place burned down around him, but the owner refused, so they decided to pay him a visit. They didn’t realise that a new man had started on the door that night. That man was Joe Kinane.
I can’t remember the other Clarke brothers’ first names; they are just a footnote in Geordie criminal folklore – but I do know that Joe Kinane killed one of them in the fight and paralysed another. Alex Clarke got his face and throat slashed with the broken bottle he tried to use on Joe, who took it off him and turned it against his attacker. At least he was able to run from the building. The police found Alex by following the trail of blood and got him off to hospital before it was too late. It was rumoured that one of the senior detectives investigating the whole bloody affair actually shook Joe Kinane by the hand and said, ‘if it was down to me, son, they’d give you a medal,’ before they led him away. Joe Kinane became a legend on Tyneside that night.
Kinane was charged with murder at first, but only for five minutes or so; this was the Clarke brothers, after all, and the charge was soon dropped to manslaughter. There were mitigating circumstances, everyone knew the reason the Clarkes were in the bar that night and people were prepared to testify about it now that one brother was dead, another in a wheelchair and the third had gone missing, Alex having hopped onto a train to London as soon as his wounds had healed. Eventually far lesser charges were brought and Joe Kinane was given just eight months for what would now be described as affray. He only served four and, when he was released, with everything he owned in a brown paper parcel, he emerged blinking into the sunlight to find Bobby Mahoney and Jerry Lemon waiting for him outside the prison walls. They gave Joe a lift into town in Bobby’s Jag, bought him drinks and a meal, lent him money that didn’t need to be repaid to ‘get him back on his feet’ and finally talked idly about finding him a bit of work when he was ready for some.
A week later, Kinane started on the door of the Cauldron but it soon became clear his talents would be better utilised elsewhere and, along with the late, great Finney, he soon became one of the firm’s two enforcers. With them at his side, Bobby Mahoney’s rise was unstoppable.
I would never say this to Kinane’s face but he and Finney were very much alike and, possibly because of this, they never really got on. Each one thought he was harder than the other man and itched
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