Authors: Jimmy Cryans
T
owards the end of January 1973 Christine informed me she was pregnant and I was over the moon. We soon agreed to marry. This wasn’t a case of me doing the right thing, but because, apart from being all-the-way, no-
holds-barred
, totally loved-up with Christine, I am a bit of an
old-fashioned
traditionalist who believes in the sanctity of marriage and the values of the family unit. That may seem strange and a bit of a paradox coming from a guy who has lived a lot of his life outside the law but it is just the way I am and I know lots of other villains who feel the same way.
An old friend, John Renaldi, reappeared on the scene a couple of years since we had last met and it was great to see him again. Shortly before my release from borstal John had been sentenced to 15 months imprisonment for breaking into goods wagons at a train depot, having been arrested by cops who had the yard under surveillance. I managed to get him a job working alongside me as a hod carrier and we had some wild times on the site. John was a great practical joker and
there was never a dull moment when he was around. We spoke about doing some jobs together, robberies and the like in London and surrounding towns. I planned on asking him to be my best man at the wedding but one day he just seemed to have disappeared. I went over to his mum’s house in Thatcham but all she could tell me was that he had came home and packed a bag and told her he was off back up to the smoke – London. It would be another four years before I would see John again.
Christine and me wanted a fairly quiet ceremony in the registry office rather than a full-blown white wedding. The date was Friday 19 May and the celebration, for about 40 family and close friends, was held in the Castle Tavern. Christine’s boss had very generously given us full use of the place that day. I put a nice few quid up so there was a free bar. I had been to the tailors and measured up for a beautiful two-piece, single-breasted suit in black mohair. My best man was another good friend, a hod carrier and straight peg – non-thief – called Dave Burgess.
Christine was four months pregnant but she didn’t show at all – even when she was undressed there was only a slight bump – but she did look gorgeous and was glowing. I was so proud at the thought of being a father and a husband, and I was still only 19. On the big day I waited at the registry office for Christine to arrive and when she did the sun was shining and she looked beautiful, absolutely radiant and I was bursting with pride. The whole day ran like clockwork and everybody had a great time.
I worked hard all through the summer and was now very selective with any thieving. I started to look at banks as possible targets. I was still working alone most of the time but I knew enough and was confident in my abilities to pull
one off without help. This wasn’t going to be an armed robbery but simply me entering, leaping the counter, and filling a bag with as much money as I could scoop up. Speed, surprise and aggression are the key elements. By aggression I do not mean that people have to be hurt but they do have to be intimidated. This can be achieved by screaming at them in a commanding voice – shock and fear then take over and work in your favour. From entering a bank until leaving with the prize should take no longer than 90 seconds. It is usually all over before people have time to react. This type of robbery is never going to yield you enough to retire but on a good day you can clear anywhere between four and ten grand, then equivalent to the annual average wage.
I had looked at a few banks in and around London and decided that it was easier to rob the target on foot and make my escape through the crowds with a few quick changes along the way. I would travel up to London on the express and return the same way. I did a few banks like this and nobody was ever aware.
On the Sunday evening of the first week of October Christine went into labour. My sister Olive had driven us to the Royal Berkshire hospital in Reading and around 6.30am the midwife informed me that it was going to be a very long labour and that I should go home. As I opened the front door the telephone rang. It was the hospital telling us that the birth was imminent and by the time we arrived Christine had delivered a beautiful baby boy.
No words can describe how I felt at that moment. All I can say is that I have never felt happier or more proud, but I was also filled with a sense of wonder as I looked down at this little bundle of joy. ‘Thank you, Christine,’ I said. ‘You have made my life complete and I love you so much.’ Nothing in
my life had come close to matching the glow I felt inside me that morning of Monday 8 October 1973. We named our son James Anthony Cryans and he was a truly special wee guy, perfect in every way. The emptiness I had always felt inside had almost totally disappeared. I almost felt invincible, and that can be dangerous in my line of work.
Christine stayed at home so that she could give baby James her full attention and I was still working as a hod carrier, not the best job in the world during the winter months. I still only weighed just over nine stone but I was deceptively strong and had an amazing amount of stamina which allowed me to work all day carrying bricks up ladders. I was very good and was paid top whack, about £15 a day. But that did not stop me from always being on the lookout for any earners.
As I made my way home after work one late afternoon I stopped to look at some Christmas goodies in a shop that specialised in the finer things in life. It was like a mini-Fortnum & Masons. As I was looking through the window I became aware that the manager was securing all of the day’s takings in a safe that was in full view of where I stood. He wasn’t aware that I was observing him and then he did something that almost caused me to shout out, ‘Ah, come, on you’re having a laugh,’ because after locking the safe he then dropped the key into a vase that was sitting on top of it! Un-fucking-believable! For the next few nights, standing out of sight, I watched him go through the same routine again and I decided to steal the full weekend takings.
The front door was a series of glass panels measuring about 18 inches square so it would simply be a case of removing one and squeezing through. There was no alarm of any description. The one weakness from my point of view was that
the doorway was right on the busiest street in Newbury. I was going to need a lookout, someone who could stand in the doorway and give me cover.
I had a pal, Jamie, in mind who I knew would be up for it and everything went as planned. Before I opened the safe I checked through the back and on hearing noises coming from the floor above, I silently crept up the stairs and very gently opened a door an inch to see the manager and his good lady sitting on a sofa in what was their living room, watching TV. I quietly returned to the safe, emptied it and left the same way as I had gained entry. My pal hadn’t moved an inch and had done his part to perfection.
I quickly counted just over
£
2300 and I was well pleased. I met Jamie the next day and gave him
£
500 and I also bought him a second-hand motor for a couple of hundred so he was more than happy. But then a week before Christmas there was a knock on the door. I opened it to be greeted by the smiling face of my old friend DS Davidson and a face I did not know, his sidekick DC Phil Busby, who I would get to know very well in the coming years.
‘Hello, Jim, long time no see. Can we come in? I need to talk to you about a safe.’
‘Aye, in you come. I’m just here with my boy James. Christine is out cutting a pal’s hair,’ I replied. My heart had almost missed a beat but I managed to retain my composure. Davidson took a seat on the couch while Busby remained standing in the centre of the room. ‘Now what’s this about a safe?’ was my opening gambit.
Davidson ignored my question and said, ‘Nice place you’ve got here, Jim. I like your Christmas tree and all the presents underneath look very festive.’
This time my heart did miss a beat because lying among
the presents was the cash from the safe, neatly wrapped up inside a shoebox and looking like just another gift. But I knew he was just having a shot in the dark because nobody, not even Christine, knew that. ‘Right, Jim, we have received information that you were involved in a burglary at a commercial premises.’
‘Fair enough, Mr Davidson, but you know the rules with me. If you are here to arrest me then I have nothing to say to you.’
‘No, Jim, we are not here to arrest you but we would like you to come down to the station with us to answer a few questions. If you do refuse then we will arrest you, OK?’
‘Aye, nae bother, but you will have to wait until Christine gets back. I can’t leave James here alone.’
‘Well, we can’t wait that long, but do you mind if we have a look around?’
‘Got a warrant?’
‘Now look, wee man, you know I can leave Phil here while I go and get one and then I would come back here pissed off and go right through the place and if I wanted to be a right bastard I could even open up all your nice presents. Now we don’t want that, do we?’
No, we fucking do not want that, I thought to myself but said, ‘Of course you can have a look, I was winding you up. I’ll stick the kettle on and make a cuppa.’
Mr Davidson said, ‘I go off duty at 11 o’clock tonight so if you give me your word you won’t disappear and come over to the station tomorrow afternoon, we will leave it at that, OK?’
I looked him straight in the eye and said, ‘You have my word,’ and I meant it.
After they left I sat and thought things through. It was
obvious that they certainly knew something but the question was just how much? Now it was vital that I got a hold of Jamie to mark his card and to see if he knew anything, but unknown to me he had already been arrested. I did not believe that he would have said anything, but maybe he had said something when in company.
I waited for Christine to arrive home then put her fully in the picture. She was totally trustworthy. The other thing I did that evening and which was a priority was to move the money to a safer place. I did not believe in tempting fate and this was our Christmas money so there was no way I was going to lose it.
The next day I went to the police station and was interviewed by Davidson and Busby. I simply stated that I did not know anything and could be of no help. They played their ace card and told me that Jamie had been arrested and that they knew the two of us were involved. I refused to answer any more of their questions and requested that my lawyer be informed. I was cautioned, charged and held overnight to appear alongside Jamie in court the next day, when we were both granted bail until a trial date was set.
It transpired that the cops had told Jamie that they knew it was down to him and that I was the one who had opened the safe. Jamie had refused to say anything at first but after it was pointed out to him that he’d had over £400 in cash on him when arrested and that they knew the car had been bought the week before, he admitted his part in the burglary but refused to name me. It may seem that I was a bit naive, but I believed Jamie when he told me that he had very stupidly spoken about the job in front of a number of people. He also offered to take the blame and
say that I was not involved when we appeared in court. I told him that he didn’t need to do that and that I would take my chances.
C
hristmas 1973 was our first as a family and even though there was a bit of a cloud on the horizon with my upcoming court appearance we managed to have a really wonderful time. I will always remember that Christmas with Christine and our beautiful baby boy James with a special fondness.
I had bought a cracking motor with some of the proceeds of the safe job, a Humber Sceptre with overdrive. I decided to spend a few days back in Glasgow and take in the New Year with Hughie and my sister Olive’s man, James. Baby James was too young to make the journey and so I left with Christine’s blessing.
A couple of days before my return I went to the Bonnie Prince Charlie pub in Parkhead with my pal Bobby McCallum. As we walked through the lounge towards the bar I heard a female voice call out, ‘Hey, Jim, are you no’ going to say hello?’ I stopped and I recognised Ruth Connor, the girl with the magnetic sex appeal I remembered from school. I gave her a
big hug and a kiss on the cheek and said how good it was to see her again. Bobby, who also knew Ruth, set the drinks up and we had a great time swapping stories about our times at school. There was an obvious attraction between us but I was very honest with her and told her that I was happily married and had a beautiful wee boy.
Although this was all very innocent it was a mistake on my part and something that I still feel guilty about, because I feel that it was somehow a betrayal of Christine. A couple of years later, on another visit to Glasgow, I did hook up with Ruth and we had a fling that lasted a few weeks and even though Christine and me were on the down side of our relationship I was still married to her and therefore I was guilty of cheating. I vowed I would never again cheat on Christine or any other woman and I never have. Love is useless without loyalty and when I give this type of loyalty I do not ask for it back – I demand it.
A trial date for the safe job was set for the second week of May 1974, and because I was still under 21 the judge was only able to sentence me to a maximum of six months. Fuck me, what a result! I could have kissed my barrister. Jamie also had a great result, being fined
£
500. Now it was back to Oxford jail, almost four years since my last visit – only this time I would be going to A wing.
I got to about seven weeks before my release when my stay came to an abrupt end. Coming back from work in the kitchen one afternoon I got into an argument with two other guys. They were both big lumps in their early thirties and as words were exchanged the two of them suddenly pounced on me and attempted to drag me into a nearby cell. I always carried a small, homemade knife for protection and it saved me that day from what would have been a severe beating at
the very least. As they struggled with me I pulled out my chib and stabbed away, catching them mostly on the upper arms and shoulders. They soon let go and I quickly moved away and got rid of the weapon.
All this happened in a matter of seconds and very few people witnessed it. The wounds were not too serious but wee incidents like this do not stay very quiet for long and in a very short space of time the whole jail was abuzz with the news of the ‘wee Scots guy’ who had nearly killed the two big bullies! It was a load of bollocks, although the two of them did get word to me that they didn’t want more trouble. The screws were soon put in the picture and the following morning my cell was opened up and I was told to get my kit packed as I was being shipped out. It wasn’t until we arrived at the gates of another prison after a two-hour drive that I discovered I was in Dorchester in rural Dorset – an old Victorian jail that held about 500 souls.
In those days you could only contact your loved ones by letter so it was more than a week before Christine was able to find out what had happened to me. Within another week both she and my wee ma had made the long journey to visit me. Finally, in late September 1974, I was released. I could not wait to be back home with Christine and our brilliant baby James who I had missed so much – and that is the real pain of confinement.