Authors: Jimmy Cryans
The doctor said, ‘I’ll be a witness to what you have said. Now, don’t worry. There is an ambulance on its way and we will have you in hospital in no time.’ Then I passed out again.
The ambulance took me to Hairmyers hospital in East Kilbride but my injuries were so severe, particularly the head trauma, that I was immediately transferred to the neurosurgery department at Glasgow’s Southern General hospital, which specialised in brain injury. I had been given a scan that revealed
bruising to the brain and I was a mass of bruises all over. One doctor had been heard to comment that my injuries were consistent with being beaten with a blunt object or objects. Photos were taken of all my injuries but I have no recollection of this being done.
My next memory is of opening my eyes to see Ma and my sister sitting beside my bed. ‘Where am I?’ I asked.
Ma looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, ‘Oh, son, you’re awake, thank God. You are in the Southern General.’
‘Thank fuck for that. For a minute there I thought I was in the nuthouse.’ I looked towards the end of the bed and saw a copper. ‘What’s that bastard doing here?’
What Ma said almost made me laugh. ‘You’re still under arrest, Jim.’
Seeing me awake, the copper was quickly on his radio. I said, ‘Hey, you, why don’t you just fuck off?’
Me and Ma had a long talk and she told me that all this really had to stop and that her nerves were completely shattered by the constant worry over me. ‘Listen, Jim, if this doesn’t stop they are going to end up killing you and if that happens it will kill me too. So please, son, promise me that this is the last time I will have to see you like this.’
In that moment I finally realised just how much worry I had caused my wee mammy and I was ashamed of myself. ‘I give you my word, Ma, that this is the last time. I’m so sorry for what I have put you through.’ And I meant every word of it.
Did I still hate all cops? Well, my answer to that is that I never did. If we are talking about the cops who battered me that night, obviously I would tell you I fucking hate the bastards. No one should have been subjected to the beating I received. But the majority of them are decent enough guys
who do the job to the best of their ability. It was their job to stop me and catch me and it was my job not to be caught.
Of course, there are some right bastards who are corrupt and would not hesitate to fit you up, but it is wrong to brand every copper. If you are in the business of being a criminal then it is their duty to stop you. Now, if you don’t like the idea of that then the answer is quite simple… Stop being a fucking criminal, end of. I was visited by two cops on two separate occasions alone and both told me that they had been sickened and disgusted by what had happened. I won’t name these guys as both of them are still on the force but I can tell you that they were genuine and I was grateful.
I was also told by the cops that as soon as I was fit enough I would be arrested on the six charges of police assault and resisting arrest! I thought, ‘Yeah, sure I fucking will.’ I had deliberately gotten quite friendly with the cop who was on duty and after a while I called him into the room and said to him that I was feeling very tired and that if any of my family phoned to tell them to leave visits until the following day. Before he closed the door I asked him to switch off the light. I waited a few minutes as I already had my clothes on, crept quietly out of bed, removed my shoes from the locker and moved silently across to the window. I opened it, climbed out and was gone!
I made my way to Billy Robertson’s house. He couldn’t believe it and for once he was speechless. ‘For fuck’s sake, daddy’s boy, the story on the street is that you are at death’s door.’
‘Not quite, Daddy, not quite. Pour me a drink, whisky if you’ve got it.’
I told Billy everything that had happened and he was fucking raging, but I told him that enough was enough – not
because of what the coppers had done to me but because I had finally realised that I was on a loser.
But there was one last thing I needed to do. ‘We are going out tonight, Daddy. I need to show face and nip all these rumours in the bud about me being ready for the bone yard.’
He just shook his head and said with a kind of pride in his voice, ‘Well, I should have known that’s what you’d want to do.’
I did look pretty bashed up, with two black eyes and fat lips and a few stitches in my head, but I could walk and that’s all I needed to be able to do. The first people we bumped into were two pals of mine, Ian L and a very old friend who sadly is no longer with us, Jim McSherry. Now you may find this a little bit hard to swallow but I can assure you it’s true: all four of us made our way to a club! I was still under a blanket ban due to cutting the bouncers but this was a new place. I could do little more than sit quietly having a drink with the boys but it achieved my purpose as enough people saw me and the rumours of my premature death came to a halt. I was later to learn that there had been quite a few glasses raised to celebrate my demise!
On Saturday I told Linda that I would not be back. There had just been too much heartache during the past years, but I was just as culpable and it does take two to tango. I know that inside Linda there is a lovely person and I wish her well.
The strange thing was that the cops did not seem too concerned and there was none of the usual carry-on with family and friends having their doors knocked on at all hours. I had gone to Ma’s to recuperate because I really should have still been in hospital, but it wasn’t just the fact that the cops were going to arrest me that had hastened my departure. It may give you some idea of my state of mind
during this period as I believed that there was a possibility of my being sectioned under the Mental Health Act due to the violence of my encounters with the old bill.
Ma went to the bingo on the Sunday night and at about nine o’clock there was a knock at the kitchen door. ‘It’s the police, Jimmy, but we are not here to arrest you. I am Inspector R and I have my sergeant with me. We only want to talk to you about the incident last week when you were injured.’ He was a decent copper and I believe he wanted to find out the truth of what had happened to me. Of course, I was not so naive as to think he was there solely for my benefit. He was also trying to do a bit of damage limitation and wanted to know if I was going to make charges against any of the officers. I pointed out to him that I thought it was a fucking liberty that I had been charged with six police assaults and resisting arrest and he had the decency to admit that I did have a point. I have to say that he seemed like a genuine guy and was sickened by what had happened to me.
On Monday I went to tell my lawyer that I wanted to counter-charge the coppers involved. Marco, while he had every sympathy with me, said this was a very dodgy strategy and that there was little chance of us succeeding due to my previous and, more importantly, that only one witness was willing to testify on my behalf. That was a guy called Colin McKewan who had seen the coppers batter me in the street outside Linda’s. That wee guy showed a lot of guts to do what he did on my behalf as I know that he got a lot of grief from the coppers. If you ever read this, Colin, you know that I owe you one. Thanks, mate, I won’t ever forget your loyalty.
At court, behind the scenes, a deal was struck where the charges against me were dropped in return for us not proceeding with allegations of police assault. I have always felt
that we let them off easily but Marco said our chance of getting a result was slim and I have always relied totally on him. He has yet to let me down and I love the guy.
It was a new start for me and I was determined that I would never look back. I had to change my whole lifestyle and cut ties with a lot of the guys I had knocked around with. But I knew in my heart that if I wanted to succeed I had to make some hard choices. Now, I don’t mean that I cut all my old pals dead but I did go and tell them that there would be no more of the heavy drinking sessions and I was going back to what I knew best: being a robber. I could only do that if I was fully focused. My intention was not to go straight but there is a difference between being a robber and bringing it on top for senseless violence which doesn’t put a shilling in your pocket. It was time for me to go back to earning and I started to look around for bits of ‘work’. I quietly put the word out to a few faces that I was in the market for any decent blags.
I
n late 1992 I met a guy named Alan Jenkins, a man I would be privileged to call a friend – a real man in every sense of the word. He encompasses all the values that I hold dear: loyalty, integrity, honesty and a quiet dignity that is a lesson to us all. Oh, and he is without a doubt the toughest in a long line of tough guys I have known over many years, no question. Now Alan would be a wee bit embarrassed to hear me say this but it does not alter the truth.
Alan in action was breathtaking to behold. It was almost a thing of beauty to witness a man who was just so good at what he did and what he was able to do was demolish other guys. But there is much more to Alan that the ability to handle himself better than anyone I know. He is a quiet and unassuming guy, just like so many of the other truly hard men that I know. But in that quietness there is an almost palpable sense of strength and an authority that is there to see for those of us who are wise enough to recognise it. He is a man’s man but also a loving and devoted father and partner and is
fiercely protective of those he loves. One more thing: he happens to have two brothers, Ricky and Paul, and they are carbon copies of each other in the tough guy stakes although totally different personalities. I would put those three against any ten other guys, no contest.
Alan was the head doorman at Hudson’s bar and as soon as I met him I knew that I was dealing with a very capable man. I was barred from Hudson’s as well as every other pub in the town but that did not deter me from entering them before the bouncers came on duty. When the bouncers did appear the outcome would depend on their attitude towards me and whatever frame of mind I was in at the time. If the bouncers got a bit lairy with me I would perform. Some of them were very wary of me as by this time I was known as a guy who would not hesitate to cut you and it was no secret that I was always well tooled-up.
One Saturday afternoon I was standing at the bar having a quiet G and T when Alan came on duty with two other bouncers. I knew they had spotted me but I did not move. Very quietly Alan appeared at my shoulder and leaning in close he said, ‘Do me a favour, Jim. Make that your last drink and then leave. Take a wee bit of time – there’s no rush.’
I want to make it perfectly clear that if Alan had decided to throw me out bodily he would have wiped the floor with me. I am not saying I would have been a pushover but I would have been no match for Alan, even on my best day, because he was fucking awesome. But the way Alan handled the situation tells you all you need to know about him. By showing me a wee bit of respect he totally defused a potentially explosive situation and neither of us lost face. Alan won my respect and from that time on I made sure that I left the bar before he came on duty, out of respect to him.
And from those humble beginnings blossomed a friendship that lasts to this day, along with that of another great pal that I am lucky to have, Gordon Armstrong. Both have supported and helped me when times were tough. So I just want to take this opportunity to say thanks to both you guys and for the messages of support from their wonderful partners, Alan’s Karen and Gordon’s Julie. I owe all of you a debt of gratitude.
Another loyal friend for nearly 30 years went through a similar experience with the coppers. Like me, he was almost battered to death by them. His name is Felix – or Flex – Conlin. Flex is a lovely guy with a heart of gold who sometimes is his own worst enemy, but his loyalty is beyond question. He is a very tough wee guy who never knows when he is beaten and will bow down to no one.
I really felt that I had turned a corner and that all the madness of the past few years was behind me. Now it was up to me and the ball was firmly at my feet. There would be no looking back and I was utterly determined and focused that it was time for me to take the bull by the horns and take charge of my own destiny.
I had been living back at Ma’s and was no longer staying with Billy part of the time. I needed time on my own to reflect and all the drinking and fighting was over for me. I would never again become involved in any of those mad days when we would roam all over Glasgow, fighting as we went.
I saw young Ian L, who I knew would be up for some blags. I told him I was going back to ‘work’ and asked if he wanted to join me. He agreed, but even though I knew he was a good, solid robber I pointed out a few ground rules to him. It would be low profile from now on and it went
without saying that no one was to be aware of any jobs that we took on.
My next move was to get a place of my own. I managed to rent a small, tidy one-bedroom flat in the Calderwood area of East Kilbride where no one knew me and I lived very quietly. It did not take very long for the ‘work’ to come in. I picked a job in a town some distance from East Kilbride and for the next few weeks I worked on it, planning everything down to the last detail. When I was satisfied that I had covered every angle – means, method, equipment needed, escape route, vehicles needed – I took Ian on board and went over everything in detail with him. We had a young guy who would supply us with vehicles and this fella could steal any car you named for him. I decided that we would also need another driver for the getaway change-over.
My plan was to wait for the key holder to arrive, take him into the target premises, get the safe open, tie everybody up and then leave. Me and Ian would then make our getaway in the first vehicle and switch to the second vehicle at a prearranged point about half a mile away. We would also remove our boiler suits and balaclavas, underneath which would be smart trousers and collars and ties. The final part of my plan took a bit of nerve but I had calculated that it would be so unusual that it would work in our favour.
We drove back into the centre of the town we had just left, joining a long line of early morning commuter traffic past the target that we had just robbed. We even saw the coppers arriving on the scene. Our driver was a wee bit unnerved but he kept it together and everything went exactly as I had planned. It was a good day’s work and we cleared a nice few grand. Ian carried out his part exactly as planned and I knew that I could rely on him.
This was like a whole new beginning and I felt rejuvenated. For the first time in years I felt a sense of self-worth and that I was at last getting back to the old me. My self-confidence had been eroded with all the turmoil that had gone with my relationship with Linda. From this point on I knew that there would be no going back to the bad old days. I wasn’t as yet one hundred per cent my old self but I knew that I had turned a corner.
This was at the height of the rave scene when ecstasy was all the go. I did sample a few Es myself and I thought they were great. I still did not have a lady in my life but I wasn’t ready or bothered. When it came to women, for the first time in my life, my confidence was shot to pieces. The years of squabbling with Linda had taken their toll, but I recognised that what I was going through was a healing process.
I was able to rebuild bridges with friends and family and although none of them were aware that I was back at the rob, they were all relieved to see that I was making a real effort to turn my life around and that the days of heavy drinking and senseless violence were at an end. My wee ma in particular was just so happy to see me getting back to something like my old self but I don’t doubt for a minute that she knew that I was back ‘at it’. She could read me like a book.
I had also grown particularly close to my wonderful niece Emma. I have always had a very special relationship with her and it continues to this day. Really, she is more like a daughter to me than a niece and I just adore her.
It was around this time that I travelled to Newbury with Ma, my sister Carolyn and my niece Shona to attend a surprise party for my younger brother Gerald, given by his partner Mary. I had known Mary for years and she is still a truly smashing girl. I love her dearly. She and Gerald were
doing really well for themselves and the icing on the cake for them had been the birth of their son, Sean. I was honoured to be asked to be one of his godfathers. Sean is a truly lovely guy and has grown into a smashing fella who just happens to have movie-star good looks. Mary also has twins, Kevin and Neil, from a previous marriage and I am close to both boys. I think the world of them.
The party was a great success and Gerald did not have a clue it was coming. He was almost in tears when he saw me and Ma and Carolyn and Shona. The bonus for me was that the party was also attended by John Renaldi, who was with his new partner, and another old friend of mine, the wonderful, beautiful Ann. There were also a lot of the old faces at that party and it was so good to catch up on all the news.
We returned to business as usual. Ian had stayed in my flat while I was away and now we started to look at other bits of work. We always had something on the go and for a while we even made inroads into the ecstasy market as there was some real money to be made. This was in the days when the punters were paying anywhere between £15 and
£
20 for an E. I had a guy from Barrowfield in the east end who could supply me with as many as I needed and they were all top-quality pills. But the drug game was never really my cup of tea. It was just too treacherous and full of back-stabbing, no-use grasses and I did not stay in it for very long. There were bundles of money to be made but I knew that it would only be a matter of time before you got your collar felt. But those were great days and there was a real feeling of happiness everywhere you went. I went to some raves that were awesome and my love of dance music has never left me. I still bop away whenever I hear any of
the sounds from that classic period and I have a brilliant collection of tunes.
I still did not have any lady in my life during this period, yet waiting in the wings was a girl who I was to spend the next 15 years of my life with. Neither of us could have guessed what fate had in store.