Читать книгу Ultimate Hard Bastards - The Truth About the Toughest Men in the World - Kate Kray - Страница 10
ОглавлениеHARD BASTARD
ROY SHAW
Roy Shaw wears designer gear, has a cool million in the bank, a beautiful home and a shiny red Bentley Corniche. He’s hasn’t got where he is today by being a nice guy. He got there by being the toughest. Everything about Roy spells violence. He is 15 stone of squat, solid muscle, which knots and pops under his silk shirt when he moves. His small, piercing blue eyes are set above a corrugated nose. Roy appears to stare with an unnerving intensity into a secret world of hostility and hatred. In short, he is a walking, talking killing machine.
I met Roy Shaw 11 years ago and in 1999 I was the co-writer of his book Pretty Boy. Apart from that, I’ve got to say that Roy is probably the finest man I have ever met and I’ve met them all – yardies, gangsters and hard men from all over the country. Indeed, I was married to the most infamous gangster in British history – Ronnie Kray. Ron was the only man who I could truthfully say had the look of the devil in his eyes when he was angry. I didn’t think I’d ever see that look again until I met Roy Shaw. Some would say he is Lucifer, Beelzebub, the Prince of Darkness.
But he hasn’t got horns sticking out from the top of his head or cloven hooves and a tail; he’s just a man, and one with strict principles and morals. Roy has laid down his own boundaries for himself and has never over-stepped the invisible mark or, more importantly, never allowed anyone else to.
Trust is a very hard thing to come by these days, but I would, undoubtedly, trust Roy Shaw with my life. If you are lucky enough to make a friend of Roy, then he is a bloody good friend. Make an enemy of him and beware, because he’s a typical male – made up of frogs and snails and puppy dogs’ tails. When he’s good, he’s very, very good and when he’s bad, he’s horrid.
BACKGROUND
I was born in Stepney, east London, within the sound of Bow Bells. I’m a true cockney, a Londoner through and through. I was a street urchin, a ragamuffin. I grew up in the war years when times were hard. Our family didn’t have much in the way of money but we had plenty of love.
At the tender age of ten I discovered the gift that God had given me – the power of punch. From then on, I became a rascal, getting myself into all sorts of trouble. I was a man on a mission with nothing to lose and a lot to prove.
I became a professional boxer, training under the guidance of Mickey Duff. I had ten professional fights with ten wins, six of them knock-outs.
LIFE OF CRIME
I’ve been in and out of prison nearly all my life for various different reasons; a little bit of this, a little bit that, ‘comme ci, comme ça’ – but mainly for crimes of violence. I’ve spent approximately 24 years behind bars.
WEAPONRY
I’d use my fists, but if someone was armed then I’d also be armed and I’ll kill them.
TOUGHEST MOMENT
I was ten years old. I was lying in bed when I heard Mum scream. My elder sisters looked after me while Mum went to the hospital. When she came back her face was ashen. She sat me down on the sofa, her eyes were red and puffy.
‘Daddy’s dead,’ she whispered.
There had been a terrible accident. A lorry had swerved out of control and one of the pedals of my father’s motorbike hit the kerb. Dad tried to regain control of his bike but it was no good, he hit a lamppost head-on and was killed instantly. That was a long time ago, but I remember it as if it was yesterday and I’m not ashamed to say that it still brings a tear to my eye.
IS THERE ANYONE YOU ADMIRE?
No.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN HANGING?
Yes, I most definitely do, for paedophiles, rapists and perverts.
A man that commits crimes against women and children is not a man, he’s a fucking dog and deserves to die like one.
IS PRISON A DETERRENT?
No. I was a hard-working kid before I was put away then I got to know all the ‘toughies’. Going off the straight and narrow is nothing new – it’s a well-trod path, a natural progression. Borstal, prison, then Broadmoor. I wasn’t the first to be put away and I certainly won’t be the last, just the handsomest!
WHAT WOULD HAVE DETERRED YOU FROM A LIFE OF CRIME?
Nothing.
WHAT MAKES A TOUGH GUY?
When a child is born it has no concept of skin colour, religion or prejudice. It has to learn how to walk, talk, hate and fight. I think you’ve got to learn how to be a tough guy. It took a long time and lots of hard graft for me to become as nasty as I am.
ROY’S FINAL THOUGHT
In 1999, I wrote my autobiography Pretty Boy. It was at number one in the bestsellers list for more than eight weeks and there is talk of my life story being made into a feature film. I’m not embarrassed to say that I’m as proud as punch, if not a little surprised.
Since writing my book, I’ve had literally hundreds of letters from kids all over the country, and some from as far away as Australia, saying that my story has given them hope and inspiration. That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received. If I can help prevent one youngster from being bullied, then writing the book was well worth the effort. As a young boy I was bullied; it affected me badly.
My father died when I was ten years old. After that sad day, something inside me died – I just snapped. I wouldn’t allow the bullies to bash me any more. Almost overnight I turned from a meek, mild boy into, some would say, a ruthless bastard. If I’m truthful I’d agree and say that, yes, I am a ruthless man. But I didn’t set out to get a reputation, that was never my intention. It just happened.
I’ve hurt, killed, and done some wicked acts of violence throughout my life, but only if a man deserved it. I can honestly put my hand on my heart and say that I have never hurt any women or children. So, I have no regrets or the need to unburden myself and ask anyone for forgiveness. If I hurt ya – fuck ya – you deserved it.
I don’t live in the past, because if you live in the past you die a bit each day. I have no pity or conscience and have been called the devil; maybe I am, but when I die I know that God will shake my hand and welcome me into heaven with open arms because basically I’m a nice, ruthless bastard.
