Short story/interview of Kray twins

I had the opportunity to help Scotland Yard during their crime research on two of England’s most ruthless gangsters.

Myself and my twin brother, Ronnie.

After both of us were arrested and declared guilty for our injustice, I’ve been asked to collaborate with detective Leonard Nipper to find the truth behind my brother’s personality, very often affected by mental disorders and strange behaviours.

Ronald “Ronnie” Kray was born in Hoxton, Middlesex, a few minutes after myself.

When I asked him where to start, he said that he couldn’t cope with the idea of being born second and most probably carried out the thought of being the weakest brother.

The influence of our grandfather Jimmy, helped us bond as brothers through amateur boxing, a popular pastime for working-class boys in the East End.

He told me how excited and invincible he felt alongside myself, both during the training and the matches.
Recalling the incredible series of unbeaten results until the age of 19, when our numerous criminal records ended our boxing career.

Everything started when we bought the snooker club in Bethnal Green, we ended up turning the place into the biggest protection rackets location.

If I recall correctly, I remember Ronnie interrupting the chat saying “how perfect and smooth this time was…” followed by a long pause.
I thought that was the right moment to find out what changed his loyal behaviour into the aggressive and impatience person he had become.

“Why did you shot Cornell that night?” I asked.

“We had plenty of men which could have done it for you Ronnie, why?” I asked again with a strong tone.

Elegantly and quietly, he said that Cornell guaranteed his own death sentence by insulting him.

“I’ve done the world a favour…” he said smiling while looking for his lighter to light up his cigarette.

“People think depression is a bad feeling Reggie”

“It is” I said.

“It is not, Reggie. It is a gift” he added.

After Cornell’s death I couldn’t trust him anymore for obvious reasons, but he was still my beloved brother.
Our criminal organisation grew rapidly and we got our hands throughout all of London during the 50s and 60s, involving public figures and politicians.

Ronnie remained in Broadmmor hospital for long time, looking to rehabilitate.
The environment didn’t suit his dress-code and the way he was looking after his hands didn’t suggest any criminal offence.

But that was only the impression.

When I finally asked how he was doing, he said: “I don’t allow myself to live in the past but I know that we’ll live forever”

I asked what he means by that.

He stood up and he pointed out of the window. With a heroic posture, looking out at the landscape of London, he added: “Yeah, I do regret some things. And I know I frightened quite a lot people.”

I nod and add: “Would you do the same again alongside me Ronnie?”

Without looking back at me while helping himself to some water and a couple of anti-depression pills, he said we couldn’t do better.

“Will you come back again Reggie?” He asked.

“Certainly” I said.

Detective Nipper was delighted by my work but at the end of the day, I was still a criminal.

Both of us were sentenced to life imprisonment.



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