The Fall of the Krays

["I'm The Face" by The High Numbers playing]

London in the '60s was a magical place.

The old class barriers had been swept aside,

and if you wanted it bad enough, anything was possible.

It was our time.

By the mid '60s the Krays had become the criminal overlords o' London.

The great and the good flocked to their West End clubs.

They'd become celebrities.

But like the pet snakes they kept, appearances could be deceptive.

Upset them, and things could turn very nasty.

No one messed with them,

and you had to hope that they had no cause to mess with you.

When Reg surprised everyone with the announcement of his wedding,

there were those who said that a wife might calm him down,

send him straight.

Leave the engine running, mate. Won't be long.

But no one said that about Ron.

Wedding or no wedding, for Ron, it was always business as usual.

Sit down, Lennie.

Good of you to come over on a Saturday morning.

Cheer up, Mum. It'll work out, I promise.

Frances...

there is still time to change your mind.

You don't have to go through with this, you know.

Mum, please. I'm 21. And Reg is a good catch.

Such a good catch that Father Hetherington refused to officiate?

Mum, don't let us argue. Reg has been the perfect gentleman.

- -He's been straight for two years.

-Is that right? -Mum, that's enough.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life,

and you're ruining it.

Lennie, I thought we might have a little chat...

before I rush off to the wedding.

I'm the best man, you know.

Sure thing, Ron. Anything you say.

It's about that little business

between you and Curly Parker's son the other day.

Oh, that. There's nothing to it, Ron.

I bumped into Curly's kid down the pub.

During a conversation with his young lady,

I called her "love," totally harmless, like.

But the kid explodes, pulls out a razor, and tries to stripe me.

What else am I supposed to do but give him a smack?

Kids, eh?

-What can you do with 'em? - Don't let it bother you, Ron.

Mm.

But that's just it, Lennie.

It does bother me.

You see, Curly's a mate of mine, and the pub's on our patch.

Punishment is the preserve of the law, Lennie.

And round here...

we are the law.

Get hold of him.

Oh, come on, Ron!

What was I meant to do?

-You look like a picture. -

Thanks, Mum.

Mum, stop worrying.

Well, maybe in time I'll warm to Reg.

Your father was a bit of a tearaway when he was courting me.

Soon reined him in once we were married, and look at him now... good as gold.

I love you, Mum.

Come on, lads. Please.

He put a blade on me!

A man does what he must, Lennie.

A man does what he must.

And now I'm gonna burn your fucking eyes out.

-Blimey, there you are, Ron. -What's up, Dickie?

Uh, Ron? The time, Ron. We gotta go.

I guess we'll have to leave this to another time.

I'll tell Reg and his wife that you send your regards.

I'm sure he'll be very appreciative.

Get him out of here.

Congratulations, Reg.

Frances.

["Forever" by Dave Berry playing]

What the hell are you grinning at?

Nothing. Just, uh...

Just thinking how far you and Ron have come since the Regal.

-Congratulations, Reg. -Cheers, Dickie.

We've done alright.

Ain't she something else?

Yeah, she's beautiful, mate.

Lovely girl with it. You got a real winner there.

Every happiness to you both, Reg.

Thanks, mate.

It don't get much better than this.

A couple more years, and we'll be able to retire...

to a nice little pile in the country.

Pull the other one, mate. You'll never retire.

What would Ron do without ya?

He won't be without me. He'd come, too.

Reg, come on! We'll miss the flight.

Excuse me, Dickie.

Duty calls.

Reg, don't worry about last night.

I'm sure it happens all the time.

It... it was a long flight.

And you did have a lot to drink in the bar before coming to bed.

Yeah, I guess I did.

Reg...

Why don't you come back to bed, and...?

What? And lie in bed all day?

When there's so many famous sights to see?

Do me a favour.

Get dressed, Princess.

Let's explore this place.

OK.

Gimme five minutes.

I believe congratulations are in order

to you and the new Mrs. Kray.

-Thank you, Angelo. -Please, take a seat.

I'd like to start by saying how impressed we are

with your abilities.

Not everyone can persuade a British peer

to stand up in Parliament, and demand their release from custody.

You also rigged the trial, sued the press

and received £40,000 for your troubles.

That sort of influence is...

well, very interesting to us.

That sort of influence, Angelo,

is also very expensive.

It's the sort of influence

that ensures trouble-free business for all our friends.

Quite.

That's why we're here.

We're prepared to buy in.

Now I won't insult your intelligence by negotiating,

so I'll table our best offer.

$3,000 a week.

How much is that in pounds?

Around 1,000 a week.

A grand a fucking week.

Are you taking the piss?

We get half that from the Colony Club alone.

You see all those pink bits there?

That's the British Empire.

Who the fuck do you think's responsible for that?

Hm?

We are.

And why?

Because we saw it,

we liked it...

we took it.

Why the fuck do you think

that half the fucking world speaks English?

'Cause we speak it!

Who stood on the fucking beaches

shedding blood, sweat, and tears

while your lot um'd and ah'd,

and scratched their fucking orchestras?

The answer, gentlemen, is Englishmen!

Churchill said that, "The empires of the future

will be the empires of the mind."

So...

what's in your mind?

Come on, then!

You fancy it, do ya? Let's fucking 'ave ya!

Ron, cool it.

I think you'd better sit down.

Angelo, if you don't mind,

Ron and I are gonna step outside and have a little chat.

What the fuck are you playing at?

You're half an inch away