STEVE ARNEIL
Look up the word ‘gangster’ and the definition will read ‘Albert Reading’. Albert is a mine of information and knows everyone there is to know, from as far away as Scotland and Liverpool. If you want anything, need anything or even need to speak to anyone, then Albert’s your man.
He’s infamously known as ‘Boom Boom Reading.’ I asked him how he got his nickname. Was it because he was known to use both gun barrels? Or was it because he was formerly a bare-knuckle fighter with punches like bombs? Albert threw his head back and laughed noisily. It wasn’t any of those things. He’s known as Boom Boom because he’s as sly as a fox, and the puppet Basil Brush was a fox whose catch-phrase was ‘boom boom’.
Unlike most gangsters, Albert Reading has got a sense of humour. Maybe it’s because he’s a Gemini and all Geminis have a split personality. In ancient days, Gemini was symbolised by twin children – Castor and Pollux of Roman mythology. Split personality is a typical Gemini trait and Albert is a typical Gemini.
On one side of the coin he is nice, good with people and sociable, the life and soul of the party, a perfect host. On the other, he’s ruthless, unpredictable and can be ‘fucking ’orrible’ when he wants! He’s a dinosaur, an old-fashioned gangster with old-fashioned ways and morals. A dying breed.
In the year 2000, Albert will have turned 68 years old, but to him age is just a number. It hasn’t slowed him down in any way, shape or form. Recently, he was given a Motability car to help him to get around. Just a normal, run-of-the-mill thing. Hundreds of people, for whatever reason, are given Motability cars and to the majority it is a big help. But Albert being Albert loaned his car to a friend – a friend who did an armed robbery in it. A Motability car on an armed robbery – some fucking friend!
‘Fucking liberty,’ Albert hissed. ‘It was a mug-off collecting my Motability car from the police pound and even more of a mug-off that Motability took the car back!’
To Albert, the Motability saga was just an inconvenience. To him, it was nothing out of the ordinary, he took it all in his stride. How the fuck can anyone lose a Motability car in an armed robbery? It could only happen to Albert Reading.
BACKGROUND
I was born in West Ham, London, one of eight children. My father Joe was the lightweight boxer who fought under his mother’s maiden name of Riley. He had over 200 fights in his long boxing career. Unfortunately, he never kept his punches in the boxing ring and he beat me like a man throughout my young life. I’ve got three other brothers: Charlie, Joey and, in particular, Bobby, who became a well-respected and feared man, owing to our father’s misguided belief that if he treated them rough, they’d grow up tough.
LIFE OF CRIME
My first taste of prison was in 1944; my crime was stealing a bucket of potatoes. When my father was informed, he washed his hands of me and told the authorities to let me rot and teach the little bastard a lesson. I was taken to Standard House remand home in South London. I hated the home and two weeks later I beat the night watchman with a billiard cue and escaped.
When I was captured, I was sent to Wormwood Scrubs, which was one of the toughest prisons in the country. I was 12 years old, the youngest person ever to be sent to the Scrubs.
Inside, I soon learned the jargon and the pecking order and, more importantly, who the ‘Daddies’ were. It seemed every inmate wanted a bit of me. If they didn’t want to take my belongings, they wanted to take my body. I fought tooth and nail just to survive. Constantly in trouble, I was birched three times across the arse and was unable to sit down for a week.
I served six years for stealing a bucket of potatoes. When I was released back into the unsuspecting society at the age of 18, I was full of hate and anger. Unable to channel my aggression, I became as tough and as fearless as a wild animal, ready to wreak havoc on those who stood in my way.
For the next eight years, I stamped my mark on the underworld. Then in 1958, I committed my first armed robbery. I’d become uncontrollable, a maniac, public enemy number one and was hunted by police all over the country. My robberies became more and more violent.
By 1960, Scotland Yard caught me and I was sentenced to 25 years in prison. In all, I’ve spent more than three decades behind bars.
WEAPONRY
I’m known to use my fists or anything to hand – a piece of wood or iron bar – but I prefer to inflict the most excruciating pain by burning my victims with acid, literally, to melt their flesh. Nothing is taboo in my eyes, but I’m not into cutting. Violence works both ways.
I’ve been beaten half to death by a gang, almost cut in half by another and shot in the leg and shoulder. My whole life has been a catalogue of violent incidents, but I have no qualms or regrets about the pain I’ve dealt out or received. To me it’s just swings and roundabouts.
TOUGHEST MOMENT
I’ve stood toe to toe with the élite of the underworld; I’ve fought and beat tough men like Charlie Richardson and Mad Frankie Fraser, but one of the toughest men I ever fought was the legendary Brian Hall, formerly Henry Cooper’s sparring partner and some would say the greatest bare-knuckle fighter ever.
I stepped into the ring with Hall at the age of 48, Two rounds went my way; I broke Hall’s nose and ribs, but in the third round Hall came back and beat me to the ground with cool, controlled ferocity, but still I wouldn’t give in. Eventually, my corner dragged me out of the ring to save my life. The fight was one of the bloodiest this century.
IS THERE ANYONE YOU ADMIRE?
My sister Joanie, who died of a terminal illness. Just a few weeks before she died, I held her in my arms and she cried. She said she was frightened of dying. It broke my heart; I had no words of comfort. Nothing. I felt so helpless all I could do was hold her. She was so brave, the bravest person I’ve ever met.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN HANGING?
No. I was inside when hanging was still legal. I saw innocent men go to the gallows – a man called Hanratty and another, Flossy Forsyth.
IS PRISON A DETERRENT?
No. Prison makes you harder, shrewder and more cunning.
WHAT WOULD HAVE DETERRED YOU FROM A LIFE OF CRIME?
The war. If there hadn’t been any blackouts, then I wouldn’t have started robbing.
WHAT MAKES A TOUGH GUY?
Heart. I’ve seen hard men hit someone, but if they don’t go over with the first punch then their heart goes.
ALBERT’S FINAL THOUGHT
I always wanted to be a gangster. When I was ten years old I nicked my dad’s clothing coupons and exchanged them on the black market for a white pin-striped suit and a slug gun, just in case of trouble. It must have been an omen. When the suit fitted me that day, I knew I’d be the gangster I’d only ever dreamed of being.
All my life I’ve had to fight from backbone to breakfast time. It’s been second nature. I don’t know any different. I put that down to my father; he beat me mercilessly and turned me into a man when I was only a boy. The one thing he taught me, which I’m thankful for, was respect. It’s a sad world when old ladies are mugged and children are abducted by paedophiles and abused. Cowards and bullies, that’s all they are, preying on the old and vulnerable. Liberty-takers. I’ll kill any man who tries to take a liberty with me or my family. That’s not me being flash or talking big. Talk’s cheap. I believe right is might.
The Bible reads: ‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.’ Take a liberty with me and I’ll rip both your eyes out and all your teeth. I’ll beat you with my fist and an iron bar, burn you with acid or shoot you down like a dog because I can be wicked, but only if I have to be.