I was just reading that the 60's Gangland Boss, Eddie Richardson, who masterminded 'The Torture Gang', has recently died. Richardson's gang and The Kray twins were underworld rivals. He always referred to Ronnie and Reggie Kray as a bunch of amateurs. You can just imagine what sort of person Richardson was.
His death reminded me of a personal experience.
Back in 1966 I was living and working in London. I was in the Antiques business, and (at the time) I was living in Lillie Road, Fulham. I had a small apartment on the ground floor of a pleasant terraced house, my rooms were just inside the entrance door, on the right.
One night, whilst fast-asleep, the door to the apartment was thrown open, and I was torn from my slumber by two burley Policemen, and a viciously barking dog. I was petrified!
They dragged me over to beneath a lightbulb, and compared my face to that of a photo that another Policeman was holding.
"No, that's not 'im" said the man, and they allowed me to sit down.
"Not who?" I asked.
"We'd been given information that Frank Mitchell (above) had been seen entering this property" he explained.
The name of Frank 'the mad axeman' Mitchell was all over the news at that time. He was an extremely dangerous criminal, and had recently been 'sprung' from Dartmoor Prison by the Kray twins. They had found a flat for him, but he'd disappeared. The whole of The Metropolitan Police Force were out looking for him, and thanks to some idiot, I had inadvertently become a part of their search.
OK, I understood that they needed to do their job, but I looked nothing like Mitchell. They 'almost' apologised, gathered together all the other Police throughout the house, and departed to harass someone else.
I believe that the Krays eventually found Mitchell themselves and had him killed. It was rumoured at the time that his body was dumped in the Channel.
I, on the other hand, somehow managed to survive!
18 comments:
Oh gosh Cro, you've certainly lived a colourful life! I remember the Krays - just about - but I don't remember Frank Mitchell.
On yesterdays post, strangely Hummingbird Hawk moths are what we HAVE had a lot of!
Well, who would have thought that gentle, kind Cro is secretly a mad axe man in hiding.
Ah the good old days of the friendly Bobby on the beat.
Can your life story get any more extra-ordinary?
One amazing story after the other.
You can't fool me Frank. After all, there must have been good reasons for disguising your real identity by adopting those aliases - Roger the Dodger, Crozier Magnon and Lily Savage.
I hadn't heard about him either, until he hit the headlines. Just my luck that someone said they'd seen him entering our house.
Last year when I got back to Brighton, I saw one by our front door. Since when I didn't see another.
My alter ego. Frank Mitchell in disguise!
Mitchell had a terrible reputation, which, I suppose, is why they were so aggressive.
At the time I think I only told one person. It didn't seem too interesting. It seems more extraordinary to me now!
It's a good thing whoever tipped-off the Cops, didn't tip-off the Krays. They'd have had me bundled-up and dropped in The Channel before daybreak.
I bet it took a while to get soundly back to sleep after that.
I actually can't remember much after they left. I was probably still in shock.
You would have been only 20 years old. It's amazing the things we can go through and shrug off at that age. That you only told one other person is truly amazing! Now the entire internet would know with selfies. Seriously, why don't you write your biography? If for no other reason, it will bring continuity to you and a wonderful gift for your children. You don't have to publish it. I write short stories of my memories. It helps me see my life from a different perspective. I showed my grandson my pile of stories I keep in my desk and told him not to throw them out when I'm gone. I'm hoping some day they will be helpful to those I love so dearly. Another thing that strikes me is the presence of true evil in our world. It's hard to wrap one's head around. Thank you for that memory.
About a year before, I had been 'mugged' just yards from my bedsit in Bayswater. I'd been working late, and I was almost home when three drunks laid into me. They stole my watch, my ring, and my wallet, leaving me with bruises on my face and chest. I didn't bother going to the Police, as I thought it would have been pointless. My landlady was very caring, and brought me horrible food for two days until I felt able to venture out again.
You were pretty young to know the cavalry wasn't coming to rescue you. I remember the moment I realized that in my life. Thank God for the folks that come along to help us up on our journey. And may we be one of them.
I like to think I do my bit; even this very morning !
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