Tag Archives: film script writing

London Boy Movie Press Release

First PRESS Exposure for “London Boy” – Making a British Gangster Movie !

After some initial confusion regarding whether or not this piece was to run at all, the South London Press ran a feature article upon “London Boy” which went to print on Sunday (22/11/2015) and is set out below for your viewing pleasure.  To say that we are pleased would be an understatement and we would like to take this opportunity to thank the South London Press publication and congratulate them on a job well done. The fact that this early exposure has brought further interest, “Nationwide”, from other media publications and digital publishers is just fantastic. We look forward to bringing “London Boy”, the feature length film project, to both the eyes and ears of Great Britain….and further !

Here below is an introduction written by Johnny Mack himself. It’s a Word document download and really is worth a read. Written in Johnny’s inimitable cheeky style…enjoy !

‘The Londonboy Movie Promotion players’


Press release from South London Press newspaper, describing the forthcoming London Boy feature film

South London Press October 3rd 2015



A great day had by all for the promotion of our forthcoming feature film London Boy. Award winning director Lee Hutcheon & Johnny Mack have together created a fantastic screenplay. This will put London Boy high up in the ranks of British filmmaking.

London Boy |Promotional Photo Shoot |October 2015

LONDONBOY Promotion Photo Shoot.
Location : South East London Street (Exact location still to be determined)
When : 3rd October 2015
20-30 Volunteers required +Photographer, Wardrobe/Makeup and classic car owners

film strip picture

Hi Guys
I’ve Just had a meeting with our award winning director Lee Hutcheon and the rest of the London Boy Team.
A lot of things were discussed at the meeting, especially those that will get this show on the road. It’s been a long time in the making but those things that are well thought through and cared for are the things that are most promising to succeed. For those of you that have been in contact with our team wanting to be involved in our movie project, this promo shoot will be right up your street. Whether you’re an actor, wardrobe/make up artist or a brilliant photographer etc this is a great opportunity for you to show off your skills and get noticed.

The main theme for this promo shoot will be centred on shooting real life shots from the 60’s-70’s era. Our aims are to use a street location that has survived change over the last 40-50 years. Then we intend to transform that same street back in time to as it was back then. This would include adding characters dressed in period clothing from that time. The theme for wardrobe would be centred on the working class of that era. (More string vests and jeans, less designer suits etc.) So wardrobe is an essential for this promo to work out successfully. The type of characters we want to portray in the right context would be a mixture of those that would look suitable to the surrounding environment from that time. Example: Imagine a normal Saturday morning: Housewife with shopping + 2 kids in a pram walking along, a group of kids playing football in the street, two old girls chatting over the fence, a group of local hard men (dressed casually) A taxi driver dropping off a fare, a few fruit & veg stalls including punters buying their wares… The list goes on, but I feel I have given you guys a good idea on what we are trying to achieve with this.

The shots from this shoot will be used to start the promotion of the movie London Boy. Press, TV and radio will be present, not only to cover the event but to interview Lee and myself.

When Lee and I first sat down to write the script, it was agreed that we would keep to the original storyline. We did not want to deviate from or fictionalise parts of the script just to get it completed earlier. After all writing an adaptation from book to film is no easy task especially if you want to keep with the original storyline. If we are to create a movie based on a true no holds barred account of a real human tale of a kid growing up in a crime ridden area. Then we had to keep it real and true to life. That means portraying the bad times, as well as the good times. Most importantly the knock-on effect these times had on love ones, friends and others. This is what makes London Boy so different to some of the gangster tales that have been released of late. No one has done anything like this before because it shows what life was really like for a gangster in the making. The script reads as if all the ego and pride has been removed and replaced with the less exaggerated truth!

So actors (m/f) of varied ages who want to take part and get the chance to meet the director/me and the casting crew before auditions, than say no more…get in touch. Even those of you that have already submitted show reels, please contact me again so as to speed up the process.
We will also need a good photographer B/W with a good knowledge of light to do the shoot and the same goes for wardrobe and make-up. These are not paying roles but if you show up and get involved, you’re more likely to get the contract for the main feature film. As of yet only two acting parts have been filled and no contracts for wardrobe/make-up etc have been awarded at this time. We are also looking for automobiles’ from that era. So whether you’re a classic car club organiser or a single car owner you’ll have a good chance of getting the contract to supply vehicles for the main feature if you turn up. So this is a chance to reap what you sow. Moving forward in this business requires taking a chance now and again. Well this is a sure thing and a chance worth taking.

All enquires to Johnny



London Boy | Johnny Mack | Writing About Demons

This week London Boy film fans are given a totally real and brutally honest insight into Johnny Mack and the man that he is. Johnny talks openly for the first time of his purpose for turning his hand to writing and his continual battle against addiction / alcoholism….


The Questions I’m Often Asked & My Journey Of writing So Far


Johnny Mack's addictions

The Lows & Fighting Demons


Hello guys.


Sorry there haven’t been many blogs recently but I’ve been up to my armpits working with our London Boy production team. On top of that there’s been the editing of the script with our director Lee Hutcheon. That on it’s own was truly an inspirational experience!

So all in all it’s been a bit hectic with having little time out for myself let alone the blog.

This week I’m going to try and chat about and hopefully answer the questions I am frequently asked…but then again I’ll probably end up writing about all sorts, so just bear with me guys.

“How and why did you become a writer?” 

Not a strange question to ask any author who is in the process of signing your own personal copy of their latest work.

But the truth is it’s not a question I can answer entirely between signing copies of my work at a book launch. However now I am co-writing the script for “London Boy” with Lee Hutcheon I am now being regularly contacted and asked…

“How and why did you become a scriptwriter?” 

So I thought I would get a grip on this and answer you guys on how and why I decided to do what I am doing today. First of all, I want it known that at no time prior to 2007 did I have any indication, intention, thought or idea that for the next eight years I’d be writing. Unless of course I got myself nicked and started writing letters home. The easiest way to explain the main question is as follows. 

In June 2006 I began my recovery to combat my alcoholism. Part of the process of my recovery program was to write down a brief life story. I was told it would help me unearth things about myself that ultimately made me drink to excess. I’ve since learned that alcoholism is a mental illness that cannot be treated, just by putting the cork back in the bottle. No, far from it, because from my own experience I know there is a lot more to recovery than just staying teetotal. First of all, if I wanted to remain sober, the first thing I had to do was to get honest with my thinking. I heard it said from a guy 30 years sober. “It was never about my drinking, it was always about my thinking.” Those words triggered something within me because my thinking was never entirely honest. Hence, I began writing an honest account of my life, not knowing if what I was doing was going to help me stay sober. Having already tried and failed every known method to remain in sobriety I decided to give it a try. After all I had nothing to lose did I? I was at my rock bottom and so very desperate for the nightmarish life I had been leading for years to come to an end. I want to point out that there are many different levels to addiction/alcoholism. It just depends how far down the scale you’ve gone before seeking help. It is a progressive, powerful, cunning and baffling illness that creeps up on you. It is also the only illness that tells you that you haven’t got it. When you come to realise you have a problem, by and large it’s too late to just stop because you’ve hit rock bottom and it has its grip on you.

It’s a fact that 98% of alcoholics fail to reach 20 years of sobriety. Getting told that when I began my recovery program had an amazing affect on me. I had only been a week without a drink and I was elated. Prior to that I couldn’t imagine going a day without one. Now I was being told only 2% make the 20-year mark, so the odds were not in my favour. When I got sobered up, it wasn’t the case that I thought one morning “Oh I’ll stop and go to a place where I will get support from other alkies.” No, no…far from it, I am one of the few that have had a spiritual experience that took away that nail-biting obsession and craving that only another alcoholic can relate too.

Call it or me what you want, because the experience I felt that early June morning was REAL! Over the years I have taken every drug/drink known to man, yet the buzz I felt that morning was far more superior to any substances I had consumed. It was so powerful that I find it very hard to describe the full affect in detail. If I had to describe what it was like to have a blast on a crack pipe, it would go something like this…”Yeah I felt fucking great, danced all night and everyone around me became my best friends that I gave all my money away.” Or if it had been a meth pipe…”Yeah fucking great, it made the back of my neck numb made me horny as fuck and shrivelled my dick.” What I felt with the experience was nothing other than pure love and believe me if I could bottle it I would.

When it happened I was sitting on the edge of the sofa with only the dog for company. The rest of the family were upstairs asleep, after all it was 4am. I’ve never been a religious geezer, though I’ve always believed in God. Unbeknown to me at that time having that belief became my lifeline to a better life. I would really put a lot of effort into hiding my excessive drinking. At the end of my drinking days I would drink out of the way alone or in the middle of the night. Yet I knew it wasn’t normal to be acting like that, yet I couldn’t stop myself. Previously when trying to stop drinking you’ll probably find me on my hands and knees in an empty Church praying for help. For 15 years usually after a massive bender I’ll sneak into a Church when it was empty and pray for help. Most times I’ll come out of the Church and head for the nearest pub full of self-pity. I put it down to karma, the fact I had a criminal past and had done some awful things that not even God wanted to help me. But God was all I had left to ask for help; doctors, counsellors couldn’t do anything for me, so I turned to my last option… prayer.

My spiritual experience pushed me to floor, then wham I felt it! The room lit up as I felt a presence; the dog flew under the dining table (Pit-bull) and then I felt this amazing sensation of pure love. In the background a soft voice (I couldn’t say if it was male/female) kept repeating ‘It is going to be okay Johnny.’ As soppy as it may sound to some of you, I burst into tears. I am not one for showing my emotions but on this occasion I couldn’t control myself. Tears were running down my cheeks like a leaky tap and in doing so I created a big wet patch on the carpet.

I kept asking for the feeling to remain but it left me after several minutes. Still kneeling I got myself together by wiping away the tears and sat back on the sofa. My first thoughts were…”What the fuck was all that about?” Yet I felt different, unburdened in such a way, that all feelings of anxiety and stress had vanished. I still had a half full bottle right next to me, yet what did I do? I finished it off and went back to bed falling into a deep sleep. A few hours later I was woken by the sound of my wife (Ex now) shouting at the dog for pissing on the carpet. For a moment I had forgot about what had happened only a few hours earlier. My memory quickly returned when I didn’t end up in the toilet for my daily ritual of coughing my lungs up to the point that I would be sick.

Instead I went downstairs to save the dog from getting a boot up the ass by explaining the wet patch to my wife. She couldn’t believe what I was telling her when I explained what had happened. She had heard so many bullshit excuses from me in the past that with this one she thought I had finally lost the plot. I suppose for her it would take a long time to convince her that what I experienced was real. The time that has past since June 2006 I’ve come to call ‘Promoting my wellness period.’ Whenever I share my experience, strength and hope with other sufferers I am always taken back with their reaction on how I got sober. Those that are still struggling with acceptance of their illness are very critical of my story. But to be honest, what others think of me is none of my business. Those that have changed their tune by accepting that they have a problem tell me that I am an inspiration for their recovery because there is still hope for them.

When I began writing my life story, I had to be careful with what I put down on paper. Being too honest could have dire consequences if the law got wind of what I was writing. As I said my life story was never intended for public viewing. It was only to be shared with one other person who was a geezer who I had chosen to be my sponsor. He is a guy I trust, who had led a life that was similar to my own and of course he is a recovering alcoholic. I’m a bit of a perfectionist with most things I undertake, so when I started my life story I got a bit carried away.

When I got to page 200 I had only managed to write the first 28 years of my life. I done another 20 pages before realising that if I continued at this rate, it would take 1000 pages or more to complete. When I showed my sponsor he was shocked, not just with the content but the length of it. But even though I had only managed to get to the age of 28 on paper, there was enough amongst those pages to help me understand what I was about. To be bluntly honest it showed me as a walking character defect. But what strikes me as astonishing was that all my character defects were based on fear. Now I know it were those fears that indirectly led me to drink to excess.

After completing that part of my recovery program my sponsor suggested I burn it for safety reasons. However my daughter had got wind of what I had been doing and asks to read it. She knew of my gangster days but not quite to the extent I went too. She was shocked at some of the stuff her dad had got up to while being active in amongst the criminal fraternity. She then suggested I send it off to a publishing house with the hope that they will publish it. I knew absolutely nothing about the publishing world nor did I know how to submit a manuscript. I thought long and hard about submitting my MS and became aware that there’s a message within it that could help others. So after editing out all the criminating evidence I posted it off to 40 publishing houses. I was so lazy with the layout that I sent it off in the entire wrong format. My thoughts at that time were if it’s to be, then it will be. If it’s not, than at least it has helped me identify things about me that were ruled by ego and fear.

Because of the format, 37 publishing houses wrote back to me to tell me so. Then to add insult to injury I was told that it was unread and ready for the bin. I wasn’t particularly worried about the knock-backs because now when I think on it I had done it for my daughter. It was never my intention to publish my story; I wrote it purely to aid my recovery. There were still three publishers who had not replied so I naturally assumed they had binned my MS.

Within a few days of receiving the last knock back I collected my mail as usual from the box outside. There were three letters inside that I recognised being from publishing houses. My initial thought was, here we go again another knockback and with that I left them on the side unopened. My wife at that time suggested I open them up but because I was in a hurry I told her I’d do it later.

When I eventually returned home it was that late all my family were all tucked up in bed. I ate my oven-warmed dinner and decided to turn in for the night and as I went into the hallway, there on the side were the letters. I thought, I might as well, so I’ll opened the first one…after reading the contents my heart skipped a beat and I let out a few loud yahoo’s! Both my wife and daughter had got up to see what all the racket was about. While reading it I could see their faces change to an expression of elation. We were all chuffed especially my daughter; me, well lets just say I was shocked, shocked that a publisher wanted to publish my story.

I went on to open the other two letters and was gobsmacked that they too wanted to publish my work.

Cut to the chase I checked out all three publishing houses and went with the one that had the best marketing skills.

When ‘Dunpeckham’ was published the reviews from avid readers from all over the world were amazing. It seemed that I had a natural talent at being a good storyteller. So many people said it would make a great movie. Yeah at the time those comments were flattering but to me having a movie production based on my life was nothing more than a dream.

However since then I have been approached by a dozen or more people who called themselves producers etc. I had promise after promise from them telling me that they could get my story on the big screen. All of them accept two were nothing more than time wasters, bullshitters and liars. The last one was the worst of the worst; a washed-up has been with a huge coke habit.

A good pal of mine had introduced me to award winning film director Lee Hutcheon one year after ‘Dunpeckham’ was published. He had read it and thought it would make a great movie or TV drama. Lee pitched it to Sky One TV and low and behold the next thing Lee had a meeting with their production team. They wanted to make a six part crime based TV drama. They loved the concept of Dunpeckham’ and what it represented. They particularly liked the black humour but much more, they loved the raw honesty of the character. Our only problem was the amount of materiel we had. I was only halfway through writing part 2 of my autobiography ‘Landed on the Moon’ But Sky couldn’t wait for that to be finished and to cut a long story short they went with Martina Cole’s ‘The Take’ She went on to do a few series with Sky and earned a fortune…bless her.

But one good thing came out of that which gave me the determination to continue trying to get Dunpeckham’ on to the big screen. Lee explained to me that I should look at the bigger picture. We had come away with the knowledge that professionals’ from the worlds largest media company had considered my work for a TV drama. If I had more materiel at the time, no doubt the deal would have gone through. And finally the Queen of crime fiction Martina Cole nipped me at the post.

When I looked at it from that angle, I believed it would only be a matter of time before someone else would want it.

After that Lee became my mentor especially if I was dealing with people who claimed they could make things happen. I would contact him with a list of questions asking him for advice. He knew I was working my nuts off and at the same time being fucked around by these liars and bullshitters. It was then Lee suggested we both write the script together and since we started we have not looked back.

I have learned so much from Lee because he is a very inspirational geezer who oozes talent. We worked a perfect system to write the screenplay and boy it’s turned out to be the dogs’ bollocks.

Then I was fortunate to have a really good pal of mine Chris Evans who is a wizard with his marketing/promotional abilities. Since Chris come on board he has worked really hard on promoting London Boy. He has managed to spread the word in all the right directions and getting the attention of the right people. Now London Boy is being talked about far and wide. So we owe a lot to Chris and his team and once production starts he’ll be one busy fella.

So from that June morning when I thought life wasn’t worth living, I’ve come a long way. Today my thoughts are that life is worth living and if you stay focussed work hard you can make your dreams come true.

Ta la for now


Johnny Mack – The Diamond Heist part 2

Here it is everyone…. The conclusion to the exciting, £2.5M true life, diamond heist that Johnny was involved in whilst just 14 years of age! Johnny wants me to tell the fans to keep an eye out for his next exclusive, next week as it  involves large amounts of counterfeit money and a period where Johnny seriously had to get on his toes and go on the run from the old bill in London…..So here we go

Catch up here quick, if you missed the amazing Diamond Heist Part 1 blog

Hi guys !

Once again here I am writing my weekly blog about certain aspects and situations that have happened during my life as a career criminal. Some of the stories I will tell you over the next few months will come across as humorous, sad and in some parts shocking and gruesome.

When I began to write my autobiographies “Dunpeckham & Landed on the Moon” the only experience of writing I had up to that time had been monthly letter’s home from when I had been banged up in jail; my last sentence being in the mid 80’s. Being in jail back then your only means of contact with the outside world was two small pieces of lined paper issued once per month. Not like today, inmates are spoilt because they are allowed to use a phone daily to contact friends and families. Apart from that they are allowed luxuries’ such as an X-box, TV & DVD player, even a MP3 music player. If that’s not ream enough, they even get an en-suite toilet (We had to use a bucket!) and no doubt they use soft toilet paper. When I was last inside our only recreation was to watch an outdated B movie once per month in the gym. Every Sunday afternoon we had the privilege of watching a re-run of “Match of day” shown on a 24’’ black & white TV set. If you were unlucky to have a seat in the back row, then you would’ve had 300 convicts sitting in front of you jumping up and down each time a goal was scored. I couldn’t be assed watching the TV or film, so I opted to stay in my cell and get stuck in to a good book.

Getting back to my two pieces of lined writing paper, which in fact was one sheet from a school exercise book and then cut in half; so you can imagine the size of each sheet.

As time went by I became a connoisseur at cramming as much as possible into those two sheets. Sometimes it could take me as long as three months to write one letter. I suppose I could have written them over a shorter period but I am a stickler for being expressive and descriptive with my words. Little did I know back then, that today I would be sitting at a desk writing novels, screenplays and of course blogs.

After all I had left school aged 13 and English among other classes was not one of my favorite subjects. Neither was my English master, especially after I had chased that heavy-handed bastard around the classroom swinging a three foot freshly sharpened machete. Out of all the teachers from my school days, he was the one I hated the most. He was always putting me down, telling me I was useless and thick. My argument with him was I would do better if only he’ll lay off from whacking me around the head a dozen or more times each lesson. He’s probably dead now but if he was alive I would have loved to have given him a signed copy of one of my books.  And to add insult to injury I would make sure he had front row seats at the premier of “London Boy” minus the popcorn that he’d have to pay for himself.

Without sounding egotistic or giving myself a gee-up, the “London Boy script” is an absolute fantastic piece of work.  It’s coming along at such an easy pace that Lee Hutcheon (Director) and I are not getting stressed in any shape or form. It has become really enjoyable sitting down each morning to begin another page or five. When we began to co-write this script, Lee said to me as we typed in the first scene. ‘Johnny, we are going to write this script to such an exceptional standard that “London Boy” will become the foundation of a new way for making crime genre movies. Just like Guy Ritchie did when he wrote and directed “Lock stock and Snatch.” Guy took a gamble that paid off handsomely and by doing so he paved a new way for producing British crime movies. In fact he gave the genre’ a complete face-lift with the end result being the first of its kind in a new way of filmmaking. Lee Hutcheon has the same way of thinking by incorporating new and ingenious methods that will not only make the film stand out from the rest but the things he is doing have never been tried before.

The Diamond Heist Part Two

Diamonds from the Heist

Diamond Heist – Part 2 & The Conclusion to this exciting true life story of Johnny Mack – Ex-South London Gangster

Now where was I because as you must have gathered, I’ve got a bit carried away again? Oh yeah the diamonds…Yeah there we were in the rear office of the taxi firm. Tony, Boney and I with this infamous gangster (who shall not be named) accompanied by a couple of his own henchmen. As boney showed this guy one of the ten boxes containing the diamonds, I saw these geezer’s faces light up as one of them slid the box open. It’s amazing what you can find out about a person just by their facial expressions. Theses guys were trying hard not to grab hold of us and start kissing us all over. Because what they saw in that one box confirmed to me that what we had was a right little earner and it was within our grasp. The next thing that happened was one of the other geezers got out his little magnified eyepiece and lifting one of the stones to the light he began to check it. With one eye closed and the other engulfed with the eyepiece I could see the concentration on his face. Remember these stones were not cut yet, so they looked like odd shaped yellow stones. They were nothing like a cut and polished diamond, they wasn’t even transparent as a cut stone would look like. What I found out from Tony was that these geezers were checking to make sure what we had were not industrial diamonds. Industrial stones were no good to anyone unless you owned an oilrig drill. Peckham certainly wasn’t about to strike oil yet, so I was well pleased when the geezer took his eyepiece away from his face and gave a yes’ nod to the main man.

I always remember the fella rubbing his hands together when he asked to see the rest of the stones. When he saw Boney start piling box after box on top of each other, I thought he was about to catch fire through the friction of him rubbing his hands together. Tony and I stood back just watching what was going on around us. We both knew we were out of our depth with this firm because we were just kids after all. The business patter was left to Boney because 1, he was the eldest and 2, these geezers came by way of Bone’s contact with little legs, remember him? (Sunglasses and Oh my gawd x 3) Thinking back if it was left to Tony to talk about the stones such as how many carrots they would cut down too and price etc. Then leaving me to barter a deal I think we would be rich men today. But our age was against us from the very start and what gangster in his right mind would listen to a couple of kids.

The three of us had already discussed before the meet back at Boney’s flat that we were not going to hand over all the stones without first getting a lump sum. We knew it would be hard to put an exact price on them until they were cut and polished, so it was obvious we wouldn’t be coming out of there with a suitcase full of cash.

That’s the thing when you’re just a kid doing a bit of business of that kind of magnitude and that is that you have to rely on your elders. On your own and being that age we were way out of our league. So in our case we had to rely on Bone to sort everything out. Even now I look back on that night and wonder why we took all the stones to the meet. There was no need to because all of the stones were all the same size. Now I know Bone had agreed to hand them all over well before our meeting with Mr. Big & Co. What they told us at the meeting was they needed to get the stones cut and valued before they could pay out a large amount. So therefore they needed all of them, that way we would get the cash quicker. I was not at all happy with that situation and I remember only too well that Tony was of the same opinion. The main man told us a load of flannel as did Bone and the only way to keep us sweet was to give us a payment, but that wouldn’t happen until the following night.

I went home feeling really apprehensive about what had occurred at the meet. Bone knew I wasn’t as stupid as I looked because I had been involved with other gangsters. I had been getting more and more streetwise the more I was around the firm I was doing errands for. It was an apprenticeship of sorts where I began at the bottom rung of the ladder and over the years made my way up.

The following night I was sent down the road to wait for our first delivery. Standing at a predestinated spot a geezer walks past me and at the same time shoves a rolled up newspaper under my arm and calmly said “same time tomorrow.” The paper only contained around four grand, but that was a huge amount of money to me. My father was working for twenty-five pounds per week at that time which was considered good money. After that first payment I never picked up again, after that it was either Boney or Tony or because Boney or maybe Boney’s girlfriend.

Within a week Bone was driving around in a Bentley, Tony had a brand new Cortina and I drove a Lincoln Continental.

Some days Bone and I swapped motors and believe me driving a Bentley was a dream for me. Even though the Lincoln was at that time being used to drive the President of the United States about, I liked the Bentley more.

Things got hazy after that, deals were going on behind my back but I couldn’t prove it. I know Boney worked Tony so that I went without on most deals but when the shit hit the fan Bone took Tony and I for huge amounts of money. Every time I asked about the next payment I would get a hundred pound or so pushed into my hand with a promise of more to come…soon.

We went to a local steak house every night for weeks on end spending a fortune each night. Before the stones got reported stolen or lost’ Tony was giving Boney’s partner one or two or three. Her name was Linda and had a couple of kids from a previous relationship. Bone use to beat the shit out of her and mentally abuse her kids. I won’t go into detail because it still upsets me what he done to those kids. I knew Tony was shagging Linda but only because I was as well lol I bet Tony when he reads this will chuckle. There was a day when Bone was out driving his mother about and Linda was alone at home. I had been in there for a couple of hours enjoying myself when there was a knock on the door; yes it was Tony, coming round for his daily oats. I had to hide in the kitchen while Linda led Tony in to the living room and as soon as she shut the door I was out the front with no Tony none the wiser. Remember we were just kids, Tony was around sixteen and me just being fourteen. It was every school kid’s dream to sleep with a MILF but I can say this now, I was first Tony ha ha ha

Tony had to stay away because the stones were now confirmed as stolen and the top brass in law enforcement were on the case. What I found out later was that they had followed Bone and me for six weeks. They had witnessed us spending extravagantly every day & night, every move we did had been recorded. I had met a lovely looking blond girl who turned out to be a nightmare in the end. I spent most of my time with her and only saw Bone a few times per week to pick up a pittance compared to what he was pocketing. This is when Eugene Maloney tried to get in on the ride again. When Tony was about he kept trying to chat Tony in to going with him but Bone paid some plank to give him a slap. Only this time he tried it with me but he was a snake and still is, so he got told where to go.

I had no control over the money, payments etc, I had no choice but to rely on Bone for my payments (Sweetener) He fed me shit non stop, but I was getting angry now because after a little while the money dried up.

It was at this time that things began to get naughty because Boney had come and got me from home to tell me we had a meet with Mr. Big’s boys. Shows you what a coward he was, having to bring along a fourteen-year-old kid along. I sensed the moment I got into the Lincoln Continental that something was wrong. It would only be a matter of hours before I would find out exactly what that was. There had been a meeting arranged for Bone to meet these guys at a local pub in Peckham. When we got there, no one was there to meet us and after hanging around in the pub for half an hour or so we decided to call it a day. Getting back in to the car I was screaming at Boney because where I had not been given any money for ages, this meet according to him was to be a final pay off. I can remember sitting in the car arguing when a hand came round from the rear seat and grabbed Bone. Attached to that hand was a large knife, which was now pushed up against his throat. I didn’t have a chance to do anything before a gun was pushed in to the back of my neck. We were both told in a moody Scots accent not to turn around, but in those cars the interior rear view mirrors were very wide. I could see the guy quite clearly and knew who he was, but said nothing. We were warned that things had now got hot and all payments were to be suspended and that we were to go to ground. The message was to be conveyed to Tony as well who I had not seen in weeks because it had come on top about the stones going missing.

Bone had pissed himself while that knife was at his throat, though he tried to palm it off as sweat because it was a hot day. The guy got out the car and that was the last we saw him.

On our way back home I asked Bone why was it that things had got hot, after all he had been seeing these guys behind my back. He fobbed me off with another line of bullshit as I got out of the car. I couldn’t sleep that night because it was dawning on me that I had been robbed blind by Bone and this trouble we were in was down to him. The next morning I made my way to the block of flats where he lived, I had a metal pipe tucked in to the side of my jeans just in case he tried anything. My intention was to front him out about the money etc. As I approached his door I had to walk past his kitchen window and it was then that I saw an old bill known to me from our local police station. Shocked I carried on walking along the corridor not knowing what to do. I couldn’t go to Tony because I didn’t know if he was in on it and apart from that, there was no doubt he was being watched by the police. So I waited at the end of the block for the cozzer to fuck off so I could confront Bone. About an hour later he left and I made my way back down the corridor to his front door. He opened the door with that greasy weasel face of his smiling and invited me in. At first I said nothing about the cozzer being in the house and Bone was telling me all sorts of shit about Tony. Obviously trying to take the dairy off him and blame Tony for what’s gone on. I noticed on the wall a framed betting slip showing a win of thousands of pounds. No doubt this was Bones alibi to explain where all his money had come from. But the amount it showed was about ten times what I had been given and even though I was just a kid I wasn’t that stupid. It was then I asked him about the old bill, his face was a picture because he thought no one had seen the old bill leave his flat. I asked him what he was up to inviting of all people a cozzer in to his home. I found out later that he gave the cozzer a diamond probably as a bribe or something. Now it made sense why he had been slagging Tony off earlier because as I said he was trying to take the dairy off him and put it on to Tony.

I knew now he had ripped me off well and truly and picked up a stool to lump him with it. But he had a high-powered gas gun and produced from under a cushion. I didn’t fancy getting shot in the face with that, so I thought I’d have him later when he wasn’t expecting it.

The following Sunday I was walking along the road adjoining the housing estate where I lived. When all of a sudden a beautiful silver S-Type – Jaguar pulled up along side me with three of the biggest geezers I had ever seen inside. As they wound down the window they summoned me over to the car. I recognized one of them from the night in the cab office when we handed the stones over. The other two I didn’t not know from Adam. They were really friendly towards me and asked me to go for a drive with them because they wanted a chat. I remember getting in the front passenger seat and then us driving off slowly. The one in the back done most of the talking; telling me what a good boy I had been and that Bone was causing them a bit of grief by drawing attention to himself by buying a Bentley etc. I also found out how much they had paid him, which only added more confirmation that I had been well and truly ripped off. I now know they were trying to turn me against Bone, but from my reaction they soon realised there was no need to do that because I had already expressed my hatred for him. It was then I asked where we were going to because we were getting close to the Nunhead area. The guy in the front pulled the car over just on the outskirts of a housing estate. As he turned in his seat to face me, I noticed the butt end of a .38 special sticking out from his trousers. He then said to me that they wanted a chat with Tony because the old bill had been making their-selves busy. Naturally I asked why they wanted a chat with him because I had been told to give Tony a wide birth until the heat had died down. And if I go to Tony then I am taking a chance of getting myself seen at his house. I don’t think these geezers had realised how streetwise I was especially for a fourteen-year-old kid. This is when I got really worried because they then said that they needed me to go to Ton’s house and get him out of his house and in to the car. They then said that they wanted to take him down to the coast and hide him out in a flat with a bird until things cooled down. “Just a little holiday, that’s all son’’ was the words they used.

Now I had just found out that I had been skanked good and proper my Boney especially seeing the betting slip. Also I didn’t know if Tony had been part of it all and had me over as well. So there I was being asked to get Tony out of his house for him to supposedly go on a little holiday. I wasn’t your average fourteen-year old kid and I knew what their true intentions were for Tony and it wasn’t a fucking holiday that’s for sure!

I played them along and agreed to do it, even asking if I could go along on holiday with him. So they really thought they had done enough to hoodwink me in to believing what they were saying. As I got out the car the geezer in the front grabbed me by the arm. His gun was now fully exposed as he said to me; we know you have been ripped off son. But if you do this for us, we’re making sure the final payment will go straight to you. That was the carrot on the stick for me to go and do their bidding. I smiled at them and thanked them and said “Don’t worry I’ll get Tony out here in a jiffy” Where Tony lived, it was all alley ways, a bit like a maze and easy to get lost in if you were not sure of your bearings. I knew this estate like the back of my hand. Off I went making my way to Ton’s house making sure I wasn’t being followed. After knocking on the door Tony’s old man answered asking what I wanted. I quickly told him what the geezer’s in the car had said and it wasn’t rocket science to suss out what their true intentions were to be.

I could see the worry on his face as I told him. He thanked me for telling him and told me it would be best if I fucked off sharpish, which I did, leaving the main geezers waiting down the road. I made my way back to my home and it was while my dad was home from working away that I asked him if I could have a chat with him.

When I told him the truth about what I had got involved in and being out of his depth, his only advice was for me to get a job. I suppose me working would prove I wasn’t involved in a big way, which I wasn’t which was down to Bone. After working a little while I heard Tony had been nicked along with Bone. It wasn’t long before it was my turn and on my return from work one night my mother greeted me at the door. “You’re mates are in the other room waiting for you John” My heart was pounding as I entered my front room because there were two plain-clothed detectives sitting in there.

To cut a long story short they told me everything we had been up to and that Tony and Boney had been nicked. But what they wanted was the big boys, they wasn’t interested in me and as good as told me so. But I didn’t know who they were because I hadn’t been meeting them, unlike Boney who had been picking up payments from them on a regular basis. I had only seen them at the cab office and one of the others in the car when they wanted to get hold of Tony. So I wasn’t in a position to tell them fuck all, not that I would. But what I did find out was that I had been well and truly ripped off. Because they kept asking me if I knew loads of locations that Bone had been visiting, obviously meeting points to pick up the money. I knew fuck all about any of it. But when Bone got wind that the shit hit the fan, he decided to give a cozzer a diamond, the reason I am not too sure of. Maybe he was working with them or maybe he was trying to bribe them. But I found out years later that this old bill was only a PC, so why give him a stone? And apart from that where did it come from; was it the one in the kitchen or the one in the road?

I knuckled down after that and started work with the old man. I heard Tony had a result by getting a borstal sentence and I’m not too sure what Bone had got. I do know he was the grass and I’m sure he took a few of the buyers down with him. It also came to light that Bone had a mental age of fourteen, which helped him get a light sentence. Now I know why he hung out with me because he was just a kid in a man’s body.

After he got out he had the front to come back to the estate and one day I noticed him under a car repairing it. I went home and got my air gun and went back to where he was working. With his legs sticking out underneath the car he was working on, I saw his toolbox open with a huge screwdriver protruding from it. I picked it up and knelt down next to him. He sensed someone was there and called out “who’s that?” “Me you grassing bastard” I screamed and promptly shoved that screwdriver right through his leg. Screaming like a kid he struggled to out from under the car and as soon as head became visible I shot him with the pellet gun.

That was the last I ever saw or heard from him. If he did grass up Mr. Big then I imagine he is holding up a flyover now…I hope so.


Some of the places names and situations in this blog have been changed and altered.

Johnny Mack’s Second talk To London Boy Subscribers


Johnny Mack talks once again to London Boy British Gangster Movie fans, in his own inimitable way….

London Boy the making of a UK  gangster movie

Hi guys
First of all, I would like to express my thanks to all of you who read last week’s blog. Especially those of you who had not yet read my autobiography ‘Dunpeckham’
Your positive feedback has been fantastic and above all inspirational, not only for me but also to the rest of the team.
While giving thanks to you guys, I would also like to mention and thank the London Boy team. Without them and their dedication to the London Boy project none of this would be possible. So a big thank you goes out to Christopher Evans our Marketing/Sales director and David Gwilym our graphic designer.

Having staunch people working with you is a blessing in disguise, especially when trying to get a massive project off the ground such as London Boy.
As Chris mentioned in an article he wrote last week about some of us, who have in the past fell foul of the law. What Chris expressed was so true to form because if you are writing a book, or making a film about crime, gangsters and the like, who better to do it than an ex-gangsters?

As most of you know who have read “Dunpeckham”, as a gangster I was never caught bang to rights whilst doing heavy pieces of work. Squealers and snakes were responsible for most of my arrests. Also I am gutted to say, a few good friends of mine at that time grassed me up in the hope that they would get a lighter sentence. However, without blowing my own trumpet, I was pretty shrewd back in the day and never got convicted on all the serious charges I was arrested for.

The main reason most of them turned grass was because of hard drugs. Up until 1978 the only drugs that were about were cannabis, amphetamines and LSD. Hard drugs like heroin and cocaine were about, but no way in a capacity as they are today. I was not a drug taker at that time, my problem started in the early 80’s and only lasted 2 years.

I got hooked on heroin whilst I was on remand in Brixton prison on a trumped up charge of armed robbery and another one for attempted murder. I was innocent of both charges and the police knew it. But back then the police had a lot of lee-way with the courts and could easily take you off the street, arrest and charge you with a serious charge with little evidence required to do so. They’d keep you banged up in the police station for 3 days and refuse you your right to a phone call and access to a solicitor. They would then take you to the magistrates court, claim to the court that they were awaiting forensic evidence and ask the court to refuse you bail. Their favourite excuse to keep you locked up was because you were a danger to the public and more than likely to abscond. Their next move was to get a moody witness, usually a drug addict, tell the court as much and then commit you to crown court.

Now, this is where it got naughty because once they got you committed to crown court, your waiting time to have your case heard for trail was at least 14-18 months. Take into account 2 months prior to your committal that makes around 20 months banged up in a cell with 2-3 other un-convicted prisoners for 23 hours per day. All this time you are protesting your innocence to MP’s etc , but the truth was no one would bothered to listen. This is what we in the criminal fraternity would call a ‘Lay down’, or to the old bill you were on holiday in one of her majesty’s holiday camps.

The day before, or on the day of your trail date, the police would simply tell the court that their evidence had been contaminated, or the witness has disappeared etc. Therefore no trail would even take place. So there you are at the court, your told that there is insufficient evidence and now you were free to go…No apologies, no compensation, in fact you got fuck all from those lying old bill or the court.

It was all about getting you off the streets whether you were at it or not. The ‘Sweeney’, which was London’s robbery squad, were the worse corrupt police unit I have ever come across. They would get information from other criminals and make a secret dossier on you. The more info they got the thicker your file became. Mine was about six inches thick the last time I saw it and it contained all hear say fabricated rubbish. For instance, someone might get nicked for a minor thing and just to keep the old bill happy and get a good word put to the judges ear, they would tell what they heard on the grapevine. The truth was, most made it all up just so they got a better chance of getting off at court. So there I’d be at home with my family minding my own business. Not having had any convictions in years, when our front door would suddenly get caved in by police waving their machine guns around in front of my young children. Their party trick was to get you at dawn, drag you out of bed, all the time screaming at you like madmen, which petrified my young children.

Then that would be the last I’d see my home for the next two years because as I’ve said there was no evidence just hearsay. The police force have tightened their belts in the ranks today; out have gone most of the corrupt old bill, but there are still a few lurking about, that’s for sure!

Tune in for next weeks blog where I’ll tell you about the diamond heist I was involved in aged just fourteen.

Ta ta for now guys and thanks again….

Johnny Mack