Johnny Mack – The Betrayal Conclusion

Well guys after my health scare it’s been decided by the powers that be that I’m back to write the conclusion of “Betrayal.”

If you missed Johnny Mack’s London Boy blog last week click: The Betrayal Part 2 

London Boy Johnny Mack was betrayed by what he considered at the time a freind, the worst kind of betrayal, wether criminal or otherwise


So there I was driving back to London in a stolen Volvo with thoughts of Nigel firmly planted in my mind. I just couldn’t fathom the geezer out for grassing me up for the snide notes. For fucks sake, I gave him every opportunity to get away from the law when it came on top that night. The fucking idiot never took it, so by the rules laid out in the criminal fraternity he should have taken his collar on the chin. But no the sleazebag decided to save his own skin by giving me up to the law. However the one thing he never took into consideration was me escaping from police custody. If he had taken it on the chin, I doubt he would have even got a custodial sentence. But on that night he showed his true colours by going turncoat.

He had done a deal with them that he would be given bail and a lighter sentence if he gave up my name. Well they did give him bail, but bad news travels pretty quickly especially the news that I had escaped. He knew I was now on my toes looking for him.

Nigel and I had a nice piece of work lined up in the north of England after we had finished our spending spree. I won’t go into details for obvious reasons but seeing he had blown his chance on getting his share from the snide notes.  He now had to do something pretty sharpish to get his hands on some ready cash. So he took a couple of idiots with him and left London and headed up north before I could get my hands on him. He had taken it upon himself to do the bit of work I had lined up. I suppose his thinking was that the proceeds he would have got from it would sort him out. After all he now had me on his heels and in order to keep running he needed dough. I didn’t give it a second thought that he would head up north and do the work.

But Nigel was a bad apple and a scumbag who thought he could just pop up there and pull off the perfect heist without considering the comebacks. How wrong was he with his thinking? When he got to the place and done the heist with his two monkeys in tow, he wasn’t to know what the future had in store for him. Yeah he pulled it off all right and got the prize, but when it came to shifting the goods he came completely unstuck. The saying “What goes round comes round” comes to mind when I think back on it.

He knew the prize could only be moved through selected people (Fences) as we called them. Those of you that don’t know what a fence is; it’s a person who buys stolen goods. But it depends on what the goods are and in this case the fence had to be of the kind that only specialised in these types of goods. There were not many fences out there that could handle the goods in question, so Nigel was limited to whom he could go to.

As I have said before, since I was a kid I had been brought up and taken under the wing of some of London’s most infamous gangsters. My respect level was very high, so therefore I was considered a trusted good-fella. However Nigel was not, his only claim to fame was in knowing me and had no idea on how the criminal fraternity operated.

So there he was with a trunk load of expensive merchandise and all he had to do was sell it on. Sounds like an easy thing to do and it is providing you knew what you were doing. However in Nigel’s case he knew fuck all, let alone know who to take it to. I had picked up this bit of work from a reputable fence via the office and he had arranged to take it all off my hands as soon as I obtained it. Nigel had no idea who my fence was because that type of information was strictly on a need to know basis. Nigel had only used two-bit fences before coming on board with me. They were the type that would go to other bigger fences to shift any gear that come their way. These two-bit fences would usually fleece their suppliers who brought them their wares. Then in return, the more experienced fence would then fleece them; it was like a bloody merry-go round. Where with me, I had respect and that entitled me to a direct route to the top fences who would never dream of ripping me off. If they did then they were playing with fire because my connections were with top people. They would not only lose their reputation, they would also never work again it was as simple as that. I had learned a lot since I was that kid who got ripped off over those diamonds and from there on I made sure no one would ever do that to me again.

Anyway getting back to Nigel, off he goes to one of these two-bit fences with the proceeds from my bit of work. Now I can imagine the face of the fence when Nigel drops this gear in his lap. His eyes must have lit up like the Christmas lights at London’s Regent Street. Oh yes he took the gear off him all right but he also took him for a mug. He agreed a price with Nigel and told him to come back the following day for payment. Apart from being desperate for money, Nigel had no idea how much the gear was really worth. That sort of info stayed strictly with me, I never ever shared anything like that with him. In the meantime the two-bit fence takes the haul to another who just happened to be the fence that had originally lined up the heist. How uncanny was that for Nigel to bring the gear to a fence, who then takes it to the geezer who had originally set the work up for me. They say the world is a small place, but in the criminal fraternity it’s even smaller. So my fence contacts me straightaway when Nigel’s fence brings the gear to him to sell it on. After getting over the shock of knowing that Nigel had gone and done my bit of work, I wanted revenge.

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When I popped in to see him the gear was laid out on the table. I was bloody livid and wanted nothing more than Nigel’s head on a pike. My first thoughts were it was bad enough for Nigel to grass me up. But then to add insult to injury he goes up north and does the work I had lined up for us both.

With the co-operation of Nigel’s fence and my own, it was decided we set a trap for our Nigel because he needed to be taught a lesson. No one in the criminal fraternity liked a villain who double-crossed one of his own. That was bad enough, but in Nigel’s case he was a grass as well and grasses deserve their karma. So the plan was I would be plotted up in the rear of the shop of Nigel’s fence to wait for him.

Nigel came strolling in expecting to be weighed off but instead he had a mighty shock waiting for him. The fence pretended everything was okay and asked Nigel to come through to the back. Now before I go any further this gear was worth three times more than what Nigel was asking for it. As the fence was counting the money out he asked Nigel how he come by the gear. I was out of sight in the next room but I could hear every word said. Of course the fence knew it was stolen but when your doing business with a fence that you trust, you mark his card on where it came from. Just so the geezer doesn’t try and re-sell it near to where it came from. Sometimes a fence would have to hang on to some things for a while because it may be way too hot to move on straight away. For that reason my gear that Nigel had stolen was originally destined for Europe for re-sell. So he pissed off his fence for telling him a load of porky’s that the goods wouldn’t be missed for three months. Nigel was now making enemies with everyone he was doing business with. He was breaking every moral code in the criminal fraternity’s rulebook. Old school gangsters never robbed houses, working class people, or come to that any civilians. However, they would often withdraw money from banks without having an account. Also the odd armoured truck would get hit or a pay roll would go adrift, but they would never hurt an old lady or mug someone. Those types of criminals were considered scumbags who never warranted respect from the old school fraternity. They hated drug dealers, rapists and nonce’s and dealt with them severely. Even the police would turn a blind eye when it came to one or all of them getting their just deserts.

Just as the fence put the last fifty pound note into Nigel’s hand I appeared from the next room and was now standing right behind him. For a minute he had no idea I was there, that was until I made a grunted noise. He quickly turned and our eyes met; the look of fear was written all over his face. It went from that cocky ‘’Look at me, I’m a tough guy to the look of someone who was about to meet his maker”

With the cash still in his hand, he froze and in doing so I stepped forward and took hold of the money handing it back to the fence. He realised then that the fence was in on the trap and tried to speak. But no words were coming from his now opened mouth, a fine example of being gob smacked.

I nodded to the fence to leave the room and once he closed the door behind him I told Nigel to take a seat. His eyes were now looking at my jacket, I suppose he thought I was armed and was about to blow his head off. But what he did not know was that my fence had been parked up outside the shop and watched Nigel arrive and park up in his car before entering the shop. Let’s just say that some of the less expensive stolen merchandise had found its way into the trunk of Nigel’s car.

I said to Nigel “Why?” He broke eye contact with me and looked down towards the floor and shrugged his shoulders like a scolded schoolboy.

You see I could have done what I liked with him at that moment in time and nobody would have been none the wiser. He had made enemies with the two fences as well as me and they wanted some sort of payback. But I was Godfather to his kid; I liked his mother and had got friendly with his family. I am not what some people have claimed, a cold bloodied individual. I was back in the day what I call a fair geezer but only to a degree. Anyway he had done the work up north for me and I was about to get the full whack from my fence. Plus I still had his share from the notes, but saying that I was now on the run all because of him, so he had to get some form of payback.

This was why goods were planted in his car and he was about to get a nasty shock which would make him regret ever fucking me over.

As he sat opposite me he looked like a pathetic piece of crap, his cocky attitude was history and the begging started. It was all ‘’I’m sorry mate, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” To his disbelief I said okay Nigel now fuck off!

He couldn’t believe what I was saying and just sat there frozen to the chair, I repeated myself and said loudly “Fuck off…now!” His feet didn’t touch the ground as he flew out of that shop.

Cut to the chase I heard a few weeks later that he was on remand in a northern prison for the heist he had pulled off up there. He also had the snide notes to answer for as well. I stayed on the run for another year and eventually got caught after a police chase and ended up cornered on top of a roof of flats.

However, while I was serving my sentence in Winchester prison an old acquaintance of mine got shipped in from a northern prison. It was him that told me that Nigel was serving two terms of five years; luckily for him both sentences were to run concurrent.

What happened to me I hear you ask? Well I only got two years for the snide notes and to be honest I needed the rest.


My next blog instalment will be a classic, so be sure to keep your eye on this page.

Until then, take care guys.



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