Outlaws: Inside the Violent World of Biker Gangs (31 page)

Jason Wilkinson, whose house overlooked the attack, said: ‘The total silence was the surprising thing. I had the feeling it was like a professional job or a punishment beating. The attackers didn’t seem to be screaming or shouting as one would expect and there didn’t seem to be any noise from the victim. He didn’t utter one sound during the whole period of the attack. That was in itself quite shocking.’

Immediately afterwards, one of the Hell’s Angels who attacked Mr St Clair was heard to say: ‘I got the bastard. I got him, I did him.’

David ‘Diddy’ Treherne, an Outcast was also wounded in the fight. Treherne, refused to make a statement despite being severely injured. The Angels, it seemed, had very
specific targets in mind on the night. The whole thing, said one witness, lasted ‘a couple of sets of traffic lights’.

Fazel had seen two of the attackers climb into a Volvo and made a note of the registration number on a napkin. The car was traced to Ronald Wait, vice-president of the Essex Angels – known as the Hatchet Crew. Wait, who had undergone triple bypass heart surgery and suffered from both angina and diabetes, claimed he was too ill to have taken part in any attack but was charged with murder after Fazel picked him out at an identity parade.

Police appealed for witnesses, photographs and videotape of the party. A few Outcasts and many members of the public gave statements but the Hell’s Angels kept mum. ‘The rules state that you are not allowed to make a statement to police, or speak to them if it involves another club member,’ Wait said later. ‘You have to seek permission to speak to the police.’

Wait then came up with a new alibi, claiming he was drinking at a bikers’ clubhouse in Reading, Berks, at the time of the killings. The alibi was supported by several members of the Angels who agreed to go to court and testify that this was the case. Prosecutors couldn’t help but be more than a little sceptical and remanded him in custody to await trial.

One Outcast told the police he and his wife would only give evidence if they were guaranteed anonymity because they were so terrified of reprisals. Their request was initially accepted and the pair were placed on the witness protection scheme, but then the police accidentally revealed their names and addresses to the solicitors for the defence and the pair pulled out. Charges against two other Hell’s Angels,
Hollingsworth and Raymond Woodward, were dropped because of lack of evidence. Both were former members of the Outcasts gang who had defected to the Hell’s Angels.

Retaliation seemed inevitable. In July 1998 the National Criminal Intelligence Service (NCIS), at the time the UK equivalent of the FBI, sent a warning to thirty-seven police forces in England and Wales advising them of the ‘possibility of armed conflict and the use of automatic weapons and explosives’ by biker gangs over the summer.

The warning was issued after a crude bomb, made from fertiliser, petrol and a commercial detonator, were found at the clubhouse of the Hell’s Angels Lea Valley chapter in March, just two months after the murders at the Rockers Reunion. A few weeks later, a motorcycle shop in Kent, owned by various members of the Hell’s Angels including Maz Harris, was the scene of an attempted arson attack involving petrol and a pipe inserted through the store’s letterbox.

A month later, police received a tip-off about a potential arms cache being moved around the West Country. They stopped Outcasts member, Richard ‘Stitch’ Anderton, while driving his Jaguar car through Poole, Dorset with his common-law wife. A loaded Smith & Wesson .45 revolver was found tucked into the waistband of his trousers and additional rounds were found in his pockets.

Amphetamines, cannabis and Ecstasy were found in his car, along with scales and self-sealing bags. A search of his flat uncovered more drugs, hundreds of shotgun cartridges and thousands of rounds of 9mm ammunition. Detectives were disturbed to discover large numbers of hollow-point rounds, which are designed to expand on impact and cause
maximum damage. Such bullets are outlawed under the Geneva Convention because their effect is so devastating.

Decommissioned weapons including an Uzi sub-machine gun, an AK-47 rifle and a rocket launcher were also recovered. It emerged that Anderton was the Outcasts main Sergeant-at-Arms and was responsible for its armoury. Detectives suspected the guns had been purchased with the proceeds of drug-dealing. Although large quantities of 9mm ammunition were found, no 9mm weapons were being kept at the property, leading to speculation that additional weapons were still in circulation among the club’s 200 or so members.

After his arrest, Anderton claimed he had been told the Angels had drawn up a ‘death list’ containing the names of several Outcasts who were to be ‘killed on sight’. Fearing for his life, Anderton moved from Essex to Dorset and armed himself with the handgun for his own protection. He claimed the other weapons and the drugs were merely being stored at his property as it was considered to be safe. Anderton had previously been a prospect member of the Angels. He left for reasons unknown and rumour had it that he had been placed on the list because he was considered a traitor.

The following week, two Outcasts were gunned down in the street after leaving a bar close to the clubhouse of their ‘Family’ chapter in Mile End, east London. At least six shots were fired from an automatic weapon and the gunman escaped on a motorcycle. Both victims survived but neither would cooperate with police so the investigation all but stalled before it could even begin.

As a result of the NCIS warning the Hell’s Angels
approached them to ask for more details. According to Maz Harris, NCIS told him that it had the names of fifteen suspects and had traced an amount of Semtex they were believed to be in possession of, but they would not say where the intelligence had come from.

Subsequently, Warwickshire Police asked the Angels to cancel the Bash. They refused and the event went ahead under heavy police guard at a cost to the public purse of some £140,000.

The former Warwickshire Pagans who had gone on to become the Warwickshire chapter of the Midland Outlaws observed the aftermath of the murders at the Rockers Reunion with what could only be called wry amusement. So far as they were concerned, the Outcasts were just as much of an enemy to them as the Hell’s Angels were. If the two wanted to kill one another, they were more than happy to let them get on with it.

The rest of the club felt somewhat differently and arranged to take part in a joint run with the Outcasts as a show of unity. Under tight security the combined clubs rode into East Anglia, an area where the Hell’s Angels were also trying to expand and therefore carried a considerable risk of the two sides running into one another.

More fond of the press than most, the Outcasts invited a journalist from UK men’s monthly,
Front
, to join them on the trip. ‘We need to show a presence because the Angels are trying to move in around here,’ an Outcast called Den told the magazine.

‘They’re trying to grow by absorbing other small clubs, what we call non-league outfits. They promise them all sorts of things and claim we’re going to be finished by
Christmas. They say the same thing every year and every year we call them and say, “Still here”. They know we’re in the area. We have intelligence on them and they have the same on us. While we’re at a pub like this we have three cordons strung out at different distances so we’ll get a good warning if there’s any danger. Every place we stop there is security ahead of us.’

The run went off without a hitch but despite the bravado, both clubs knew the writing was on the wall. The Outcasts were simply too spread-out across the UK to have any real strength in numbers when it came to taking on the Angels. At the same time the Midland Outlaws were reaching the point where they had to decide what future direction the club was going to take.

Ever since the new club had formed there had been discussions taking place about where it was all going to lead. Despite the choice of name, it was far from a foregone conclusion. Some members, particularly a few from the Derby chapter, remained keen on joining forces with the Bandidos but while a good many friendships had been established with the Fat Mexican crowd, the club had spent significantly more time with members of the American Outlaws Association.

Daytona Bike Week was now a regular fixture on their calendar and there had also been more visits to Canada and Denmark and the members were making the most of the opportunities for cheap travel that their friendship with the AOA provided.

A key objection among members was that they did not like the AOA patch, the skull and crossed pistons, known as ‘Charlie’. There were even discussions among the Midland
Outlaws about getting the AOA to change their patch to a design based on the multi-feathered skull one they were using, but the American group was simply too large and powerful to even give consideration to such a move. It was the Midland Outlaws who needed them, they insisted, not the other way round. ‘There’s only one way – AOA’ became their mantra.

The other major sticking point was the question of exactly what kind of organisation the Midland Outlaws would be getting involved in. Although they talked about biking and brotherhood being the main reasons for the existence of the club, they all knew that the international AOA had far more going on than that.

The Canadians were making millions from the drugs trade, as were various European chapters. Then there was the Florida problem. Member turned informant Mike Lynn had begun secretly recording church meetings since shortly after the Midland Outlaws first visit. His evidence had quickly led to an indictment which accused the chapter of murder, drug trafficking and extortion and had an extraordinary effect on the club overall.

The man who had collected the Outlaws from the airport, Glen ‘Flyball’ Clark found himself facing life in prison and decided to cooperate with the authorities. This in turn led to both DK and Wayne Hicks agreeing to roll over. Within a short time, the authorities had enough evidence to indict Taco Bowman himself, which they did in the summer of 1997 for a range of offences including three murders and several bombings as well as involvement in drug trafficking, extortion, firearms violations and assault, all under the RICO conspiracy law.

Taco immediately went on the run and became the first ever member of an outlaw motorcycle gang to be placed on the FBI’s Top Ten Most Wanted list. He remained at large until 1999 when he was arrested while attempting to visit his family in Michigan.

During a lengthy trial, which finished in 1999, he was sentenced to sixty years and is expected to die behind bars. Despite his hard line on snitches, those closest to him turned out to be his worst enemies.

Although the Midland Outlaws could pretend as much as they wanted that the American Outlaws had nothing to do with them, they knew it was inevitable that if they joined forces with the AOA, they would be embracing all the club’s activities. They would be permanently making the move from club to gang.

Ultimately the issue was put to the vote and the mantra turned out to have been an insightful prediction. Although a small number of dissenters from Derby opted to leave and join up with the Bandidos after all, the remainder of the club voted to join forces with the Americans.

In February 2000, Valentinos bar in Birmingham played host to a club-member-only event (old ladies were not invited). The newcomers were joined by Outlaws from around the world to welcome them into the new brotherhood. Few of those who attended the patch-over party remember much about it – always the sign of a good night out. Shortly afterwards, and much to the consternation of the former Pagans, the Outcasts also joined the fold.

For the Hell’s Angels it was as if all their worst nightmares had come true. Their domination of the UK biker
scene was now well and truly over. With a head count approaching 250, the UK chapters of the AOA had at least one hundred more members than they did.

The change of name also required a change of organisation: elections were held to find new officers and Stuart ‘Dink’ Dawson was elected as the first national president of the AOA in the UK.

The Angels responded in a wholly predictable fashion: they began recruiting heavily, targeting more small clubs around the country and cherry-picking the best potential prospects, desperately hoping to get to them before they could be approached by the Outlaws.

Although the Angels could still claim to be the best known MC in the world, they were no longer the only international club operating in the UK. For the first time, new bikers who wanted to be part of a global operation had a choice. Any club that had a problem with the Angels in the past or feared a hostile takeover now had an alternative route they were able to consider.

In June 2001 the Motorcycle Action Group, a lobbying organisation that campaigns on behalf of bikers throughout the UK, called for the Bulldog Bash to be scrapped on the basis that the Hell’s Angels were unfit to host it. Neil Liversidge, chairman of the group, received a series of death threats soon after speaking out but ultimately his request fell on deaf ears after both Stratford District council and Warwickshire police backed the event stating it had never caused them any problems during its fifteen-year history.

Regardless of what the Angels might get up to the rest of the time, the Bulldog Bash was famous for being almost completely trouble free. Every regular attendee knows the story of the man who lost his wallet with £200 in it, went to the lost property office expecting nothing, only to have it returned with all his cash still inside. The 2001 event was the biggest to date, attended by almost 25,000 bikers, and featuring performances from the likes of Terrorvision, Reef, Feeder and The Fall. Despite heavy rain turning many of the campsites into little more than muddy bogs, the four-day festival still passed off without a hitch.