Gypsy Jane - I've Been Shot Four Times and Served Three Prison Terms?This is the Incredible Story of (11 page)

‘Stay the fuck back,' I said to all the Yardie crew, ‘or she's getting it in the neck. It's a fucking good day to die,' I whispered in the ear of Big Momma 2. ‘But if I go, you are coming with me.'

Someone shouted out from the crowd, ‘You're a dead woman.' But I ignored that and gave my attention entirely to Big Momma 2.

‘I'm game if you are, babe. You started this by pushing in and I am not having that,' I said. ‘I am no better nor any worse than you so I'm not standing for it. I'll die defending my self-respect because it means a lot to me. The ball's in your court.'

While this was going on, the inmates were blocking off the screws who were trying to get to us. Then Big Momma 2 spoke for the first time. ‘Leave the armed robber alone, girls,' she ordered her crew. ‘We haven't got no problem. The armed robber, she's OK.'

I gradually relaxed my grip on her to see if she was going to keep her word.

‘They have been telling me about you, girl,' she said. She didn't look rattled at all. She was as calm as you like for someone who nearly had a pen through their jugular. ‘You got some balls on you. Glad to make your acquaintance.'

‘You aren't lacking in that department yourself, are you?' I said.

‘Respect,' she said.

The screws were asking everyone what all the kerfuffle was about but everything was sweet. In fact, putting me in with the Yardies had backfired big time on the screws because now we were all pals. So what did the screws do? Moved me out of the Yardies' dorm and back in with my old pals.

I was losing track of time but I must have been in for about four or five months by then and my case was starting to look good. I still had serious charges hanging over me but it was beginning to look like the police knew they shouldn't have shot me. Gary told me I was almost certain to get bail, as the cops knew their evidence wouldn't stand up in court against the
rock-solid
forensic report, so he told me we were going to go for bail on 11 May – just as the Ouija board had said.

Finding £10,000 bail wasn't a problem but getting someone to stand up for me who was of good character and didn't have convictions was slightly trickier. A rich mate whose family ran a haulage firm got her mum to
speak for me when I appeared at Snaresbrook crown court. I'd never met the mum before and, when I got to court, I didn't connect her with a woman I saw who was not sitting with my family. This woman was on her own, suited and booted and, to be honest, I thought she was someone from the court. She kept waving and smiling at me and I thought she was trying to make me look dodgy so I gave her a dirty look and that soon made her stop. Then one of the court officials asked who was putting up bail and she stood up. She told the court she was my aunt and that I had lived with her for most of my youth and that she was willing to put up bail. I felt like a right fool. I wished someone had told me what was going on. I had to agree to stay at her house and I was then returned to Holloway to wait for the bail money to be transferred.

My dad was waiting for me later that day with my rich mate and we went home, where John was waiting. We all cried buckets. But they were tears of happiness. I was so proud of John. It didn't matter what had happened, he never complained. He was just so happy that we were back together as a family. As for me, I had been locked up for six months and I felt so happy to be out. I had to be at home with John and I broke my bail conditions straight away by not staying at the house of the lady who appeared in court on my behalf. I wanted to get back to normal life and felt it was only a small risk to take.

I was at home a couple of weeks when I saw the
middle-man who had passed on the dodgy speed from those so-called gangsters all those months earlier. He invited me to a party. John was staying with a mate so I agreed. But it all went wrong when some blokes at the party started fighting. All of a sudden it was the last place I wanted to be while out on bail. People were going nutty and someone got stabbed and I knew had to get out of there. The law was on its way. I could even hear the sirens as I legged it down the stairs. I walked out of the front door and there were police everywhere. I calmed down, took a deep breath and walked off, minding my own business. I got stopped by an officer. ‘Have you just left that party?' he asked.

‘What party, officer?' I replied. ‘I'm just on my way to work.'

He told me to be on my way and, even though I didn't have a clue where I was, I just kept walking until I came to a train station. It was 4.30am. I went to sleep on a bench and waited for the 6am train. It was 8am before I got home. I'd had a narrow escape. If they had caught me in breach of my bail conditions, I would have back inside immediately. What an idiot I had been but I had also been lucky – again.

I liked to think I had learned my lesson. I knew my trial was coming up and I kept out of trouble. I couldn't let my boy and my dad down again. I wouldn't be telling the truth if I didn't say I was worried. Don't get me wrong. I knew I could do the time but this was all about John. I had to be there for him and knew that
more than ever now. My trial was at Snaresbrook crown court, where Gary told me the police wanted to do a deal because they were worried about any comeback over my shooting. An investigation by the Police Complaints Commission had taken place into the incident, he said, and the police were not looking as if they came out of it too well. It looked as if the officer had panicked when he opened fire because I had not fired a shot and there was no evidence to show I had been trying to run anyone over either. Also, the fact that all the bullets had hit me from behind didn't look good for them. They couldn't even do me for the guns, as they were legal and Gary had already proved the black powder in the bullets was legal firework powder. It was a clause in the law. It all added up to one thing. The police wanted to do a deal.

‘They want you to plead guilty to attempted robbery and dangerous driving and to possession of a Class B drug – that's the speed – in exchange for them dropping the attempted murder charges,' Gary explained. ‘If you agree, you will walk out of this court a free woman. The judge will take into consideration the time you have done on remand and the fact that you were shot four times as punishment enough. But if you don't take the deal, they have told me the original attempted murder charges will stand and, if you are found guilty, you will be looking at double figures and could serve at least ten years in prison.'

I asked Gary what he thought and he told me it was
up to me. I knew I should get a ‘not guilty' because the cops had told too many lies but, at the end of the day, it was up to the jury and, if I got a jury who were all for the police, I would be fucked.

I thought about it. I thought about the Greek girl who was innocent and got 11 years. I didn't try to kill the police and they knew it but I did do the robbery. If I won a trial, I would end up a rich woman because I would be free to go for compensation for being shot. But if I didn't, I would be leaving John out in the world all alone for a very long time. It didn't take more thinking. No amount of money was worth the risk of leaving my son. I took the deal.

The judge took into consideration my wounds and I got a two-year sentence, suspended for two years, and a three-year driving ban. I walked out of that court a free woman with my head held high. My guns were confiscated and put in the police museum. That gave me the hump. The police asked the judge if the
attempted-murder
and firearms charges could be left on file and he agreed. I didn't take much notice of that, not realising that it meant I was on the police computer as having tried to murder two officers. Every time they looked me up, even if it was just for a parking ticket, I would come up as armed and dangerous and public enemy No 1. All I cared about that day was walking free. And walk free I did.

When I got home, I was told I had to go to Ilford police station to collect all the legitimate guns and
rifles the police had taken from my home in black bags the night I was shot. In all, they had about five bags of my belongings. A friend went with me and, when we got there, we were taken into a room, where my stuff was and the officer in charge had five sheets of paper with everything listed on it. He started going through the bags one by one and had ticked off about five of the items after searching through the bags when he said, ‘Jane, it's all here but it's going to take all day to go through this lot. Just sign here and you can take the lot.'

‘OK,' I said and signed. I couldn't wait to get out of there.

‘I hope yous ain't going to shoot me again,' I joked with him.

‘Don't worry, Jane, no one's going to shoot you,' he said and we left for home. We went through the bags and found the Billy was still with the rest of my belongings, nicely sealed in two forensic-evidence bags. Rather than destroying it, they had mistakenly left it with the rest of my belongings. Me and my mate couldn't believe it.

‘What idiots,' I said. We couldn't stop laughing.

It was only a small amount of Billy – a couple of ounces – but I was back in business. You must think I was mad going straight back into crime but all my money was gone now because I had been inside for six months. I had to survive and, anyway, I said to my mate, if I ever got nicked for selling Billy and they asked me
who supplied me, I could tell them it was the police. And I had the forensic bags to prove it.

There were people saying that, after what I'd been through, I would never pick up a gun again. How wrong they were. The low-life scum who had set me up to be shot were now my top priority.

I
had been out a few months and things were returning to normal. Well, normal in my world. Matt was over the moon. We still weren’t together but I still loved him with all my heart. The lover I once knew had now become my soul mate. It was a bond which would last a lifetime and I was prepared to die for him.

He had been there for me through it all. He had even taken a bullet because of me. He never said why he got shot when I was in hospital but I knew it must have been because he had gone after the grasses that were responsible for me ending up in prison. All he had told me about it was that he had come out of a house and somebody had been hiding in the bushes and shot him. Matt never saw their faces but he was certain it was the
grasses and now they were living in fear and had gone into hiding.

I knew we would get them, one by one, and took satisfaction from knowing that they were living in fear and that it was worse for them than it was for me. I was now free and it had all backfired on them. I once believed there was honour among thieves. How naïve I was. I had found out the hard way and now I found it hard to trust anyone except my family and Matt. But those grasses knew we would be coming. I enjoyed my life being back at home but we both wanted them sorted. Now our wounds had healed, it was time for payback. We went out to war and got them back one by one.

The bloke who gave me the information about the robbery in the first place had his businesses destroyed. And then I read in the news that the two boys who were supposed to have come with me on the job had been kneecapped. No one was ever charged. I don’t know anything more than that about those cases but, let’s be honest, that’s exactly what they deserved. An eye for an eye, in my book. A couple of others from their crew got away but that’s snides and grasses for you – they have to be good runners!

Life went on. I was indoors one night with my son and my two Alsatians, Will and Max. The dogs were a big part of my family. I loved them both like they were babies. This particular night Will was in the garden and wouldn’t come inside. Now, these dogs slept in my bed,
they sat on my leather settees and only went out to the garden to go the toilet. But Will wouldn’t come in. It was 2.30am and I wanted to go to bed. So I left Will out there and Max and I went to bed. I had been in bed for about half an hour when I heard Will barking and growling, and I knew someone was out there. Whenever I heard my dogs bark, I knew there was someone walking past or coming down the path. But when they growled, it meant danger. Will knew long before me that someone was sneaking around and plotting me up. That’s why he wouldn’t come in. I grabbed my M16 rifle and ran straight downstairs but I was too late. I had a side gate and the intruder had jumped over it, though not before Will bit them. I ran back through the house just in time to see the snoopers jump into a van. There were three of them, all men. I aimed my rifle and shot at them but they were already taking off.

My neighbour heard the noise and came running out of her house just as I fired. She asked me if I wanted her to call the police. She had startled me and, instinctively, I spun around, forgetting I still had the rifle in my hands. I pointed it straight at her and said, ‘Don’t you dare.’ She looked terrified and I suddenly realised what I had done. ‘I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to point the gun at you,’ I said.

She knew I didn’t mean any harm and replied, ‘Oh, Jane, you’re so brave. What would happen if they had burgled me? There is no way I could stand up for myself the way you do.’

I told her the burglars were scum and would stab anyone in their sleep. I hated burglars and I was bang in the mood for a battle with them. The Gran had come out and I was on one. I put a chair on the doorstep and sat there with my rifle in my lap all night waiting, just in case they came back. But nobody came. In the morning the milkman arrived and, when he saw me my gun, he said, ‘Fucking hell! Who are you expecting? Jessie James and his gang? It’s like the bleedin’ Wild West. I deserve danger money coming here.’ He was OK, my milkman. I used to sell him beer and fags when I was doing the beer run.

‘Three men tried to burgle me last night.’

‘They must have a death wish or something,’ he said as he carried on with his milk round.

I went back inside, as I was looking a bit of a nutter, all tooled up out on my doorstep in broad daylight. But I stayed awake for three nights running waiting for them to come back. People work all their lives for what they have got and the likes of these scummy burglars wanted to take it away from them. Some things have value beyond money in a family home and can never be replaced. These scum would sell anything for a quick fix of crack. Well, I hated them. Go and rob a bank or go and nick from a shop if you need money but don’t go into ordinary homes.

By the end of my vigil I was so tired that I couldn’t keep my eyes open, though I wouldn’t take my eyes off the front path for a moment. I was in warrior mode and
fully armed. I was so armed up I could have taken on a small army if it came down my path. Let’s be honest here, it might not have been burglars. It could have been the enemy, as I had done a few scum in my time who might want payback. Bring it on, I thought to myself. I was ready and waiting. If they had come back, I would have given them a war and they would never have left alive.

I was so hungry and a little woozy from the sleep deprivation so I put a treacle pudding on the gas – the kind you boil in the tin. I went back to my lookout duties and was waiting for it to finish cooking when all of a sudden I heard an almighty bang in the kitchen. I thought I’d been bombed but, when I dashed into the room, all I could see was treacle pudding dripping off everything. It was all over the ceiling, all over the sink and the cooker too. Everything was covered in treacle. I must have dropped off to sleep and it had boiled dry and then exploded. I was too shattered to clean it up so I just threw the pot in the sink and went to bed. I knew by now the intruders were not coming back. They hadn’t got the balls. This kind of scum only crept around when they thought you were asleep or they stabbed you in the back. They probably thought I had lost my touch when I was shot and now fancied their chances. Well, when I shot at them as they ran away, they found out my touch had just got a whole lot touchier.

When I woke up, I made a point of apologising again to my neighbour for frightening her with my rifle. I told
her I was always there for her and her family if ever they needed me. She told me that she knew I hadn’t meant to frighten her and that she was OK. ‘You are a bit nutty, Jane, but I like you, girl,’ she said and we had a good laugh about the treacle pudding too.

By now Mum wasn’t very well. In fact, she’d had cervical cancer for several years and, despite the treatment, she was just getting worse. She was also suffering with breathing problems and Dad had his hands full looking after her. Mum had started to suffer with the disease well before I was shot but, nevertheless, she had often looked after John and the dogs when I was inside. We’d had our differences in the past but that time she did me proud. Now she was in a bad way and I was being extra careful to stay out of trouble for her sake. My family just couldn’t have handled any more problems but I still needed to make money. I didn’t have qualifications, I hadn’t long been out of prison and hopes of somebody employing me were slim. So I had to support John the only way I knew how. I was still ducking and diving for a living but it wasn’t easy. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t getting rich and I wasn’t robbing people’s homes or causing misery with hard drugs like crack and heroin. That was not my game. Yet I knew I was doing wrong and by now I wished I could find another way.

One day I was going to pick up a bit of Billy and on the way back my worst fears came true. Two police cars
pulled me over and I gave the questioning officer a dodgy name because I knew they had my card marked.

‘Really,’ he said. Where is Jane then?’ It was all innocent-like but they knew. They searched me, found the speed and I was arrested. I also had a joint’s worth of puff in my pocket and, in the end, I would be charged with possession of puff, possession of Billy and driving while on a three-year ban. I immediately thought I’d been set up again. The car I was in was not in my name so how did they know it was me? At least when they asked where I got the Billy from, I was ready. I said, ‘The police gave it to me. Honest.’ They were not amused. They must have thought they had heard it all but this time it was actually the truth.

I just didn’t have the heart to tell the family I’d been nicked again. They had been through enough but, as I came close to my court date, returning to
Snaresbrook
to have my case heard, I knew I was going down. What a mess I’d made of everything. Then came a real bombshell. My mum died of cancer. She was just 54. It was a sad, sad time. I realised how her hard life had taken its toll on her, especially in her early years as an 18-year-old mum with three kids and three jobs. But Mum and I had got closer again and, although I had spent much of my life not getting on with her, we had made our peace towards the end. She had been there for me when I was away. She wrote to me every day.

At court the charge relating to the speed was dropped
as I produced the forensic bags to my solicitor and explained what had happened. They had denied giving the speed to me. But how had I got the forensic bags then? True, it wasn’t the same speed that they had given me but they couldn’t prove that. So the case was adjourned for a couple of weeks for it all to get sorted out. I was bailed to reappear and was allowed to go home. To be honest though, I didn’t have a good feeling. Even though the charges were not that serious, I was still on a two-year suspended sentence, which could be enforced if I did anything wrong during that two years. I cursed myself, as I realised this little bit of bother could have big consequences.

I thought I was definitely going to do time but I still couldn’t bear to tell Dad because he had so much on his plate with Mum’s death. He didn’t need me giving him more grief than he already had. I just wanted to forget about everything but it was weighing on my mind. My John was only 15 and that was my main worry. He had grown up fast and I knew he could look after himself but he was still a boy and I was feeling so guilty. Even though I hadn’t been sent down yet, I cheered him up by buying him a Porsche and a Rolex watch. He had already learned to drive at a nearby driving centre equipped with traffic lights and roundabouts. He paid a couple of quid and could stay there as long as he like. John loved it, became a good driver and was over the moon with the Porsche. I had already bought him an Escort XR2 and found the white Porsche 944 in the
local paper. It was beautiful. The roof could be taken off, it had leather seats and it was my way of getting him ready for what I knew was coming. Unfortunately, things went a little bit wrong.

I told him he wasn’t allowed to drive on the roads because he would get pulled. But did he listen to me? No. But I couldn’t blame him. He was 15 and behind the wheel of a Porsche. I blamed myself for the inevitable. He was out, loving it, when I got a phone call from the police.

‘We’ve arrested your son. Can you come to Romford police station, please, Miss Lee?’ the officer said.

I phoned Tracey and we both went to hear the story. John had been chased and arrested trying to get away. It wasn’t too hard for the police to spot him in a white Porsche but, before they could get near him, he pulled over, threw the keys out of the car and legged it with his mate who had been in the passenger seat.

When I arrived at the police station, I was taken into an interview room and questioned about the car. ‘Where did a 15-year-old boy get a Porsche from?’ one of the officers asked.

‘His dad bought it for him,’ I said. ‘I bought him a new pair of trainers so his dad had to go one better and buy him a Porsche.’

‘Where did he learn to drive like that? It took my best drivers to catch him,’ the officer said.

‘His dad taught him.’

‘And where does his dad live?’

‘Somewhere in Kent,’ I said.

‘Where in Kent?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know, officer. I take full responsibility though because John shouldn’t have been driving it unless he was in the Cardrome and I should have stayed with him.’

So they gave John a caution and impounded the car at a car pound at Upminster police station. They said they wanted to check out the paperwork on it and said I could pick it up in a couple of days. Well, a week went by and I hadn’t heard from them. So I phoned up the police station and they said I could pick it up on Monday but I was in court on Tuesday and I wasn’t going to wait. I didn’t have time. I knew I was going away and, if I didn’t get this car now, I was not going to get it back so me and a mate went to get it from the pound.

The police station was closed so we went around the back to their pound. Luckily, the gates were open and the Porsche was sitting in sight. We didn’t have the keys because John had thrown them out of the car when he was arrested so I phoned the AA. I was now in the police car pound with the AA man and my mate when a police officer came out the back door of the station to see what was going on.

‘It’s OK, officer,’ I said. ‘It’s all been authorised.’ The officer duly got in his car and left us to it. My friend couldn’t believe it.

‘You’ve got some bottle, girl,’ she said under her breath
as the AA man – who also didn’t know what was really going on – took the numbers from the barrel of the key locks and went to get me a key cut.

‘Look,’ I said to my friend, ‘if I don’t get this car today, I might not be able to get it back again, so needs must, girl.’ Between me and the AA man, we got the car on the road. I treated him to a nice few quid for helping me.

On that Saturday night I got in John’s Porsche and went for the freedom ride of my life, knowing in my heart that on Tuesday night I would back behind bars. I got myself all done up, filled the tank and went out and just drove. I drove all night. I raced anyone who was game. I mean, I was in a Porsche and, in my eyes, only a Ferrari could beat me and I won every race I got into. That drive made me happy and took my mind off my troubles. I felt as free as a bird.