grabbed hold of Nipper’s arm.
‘I’ve done no wrong, he’ sacunt,’ Nipper protested, pushing the man away and trying to grab Tucker, who immediately pulled out the cleaver and swung it towards Nipper’s head. Rolfe and the other man intervened and bundled Nipper back into the bedroom. Nipper was told that if he wanted to live, he would have to leave it and let Tucker calm down. Nipper slumped on the bed in shock and total disbelief at what had happened. The three men left.
Nipper turned to Tate, the man he had once considered a friend, for help. None was forthcoming. When Nipper rang him, he was told, ‘You’re a cunt. You insulted Tucker’s woman and now you are going to die.’ Nipper put the phone down and rang Tucker in the hope the drugs had worn off and he had calmed down.
‘Have you sorted this out yet, Tone, what is going on?’ he asked.
‘Sorted what out?’ replied Tucker, ‘You’re a piece of fucking shit.’ Nipper asked what it was he had done. ‘You told my woman I fuck her up the arse.’ Nipper denied he had ever said such a thing to Tucker’s partner. ‘So you’re calling her a fucking liar now, are you?’ Tucker replied.
Nipper knew that it was an argument he was never going to win. Tucker told Nipper that he would be visiting him at his home that afternoon to sort it out, and then the phone went dead. Fearing for his life, Nipper went to the Army and Navy store in Southend and purchased a combat knife. He then telephoned a man to whom Tate had introduced him and who sold guns. Nipper told the man he had a problem and he needed a gun as soon as possible. When the man was told who the ‘problem’ was with, he said he wanted nothing to do with it and put the phone down.
That night, Nipper slept in his car because he was too frightened to return to his home. The next morning, after looking up and down the street for Tucker’s, Tate’s or Rolfe’s cars, he entered his home via the back door. To his horror, he saw that the place had been ransacked. His TV, video, camcorder, microwave and clothing had all been taken. Anything that had been left was slashed, smashed or smeared with excrement. Even the walls and doors had huge holes kicked in them. Nipper was outraged. He rang Tucker and demanded to know where his stuff was.
‘I want my fucking stuff back, you wanker. I’m going to fucking kill you,’ he shouted.
Tucker didn’t reply, he just laughed at Nipper. The line had been crossed now. Nipper knew he had to arm himself because Tucker would kill him when he found him. Nipper rang another man who bought and sold guns for the criminal fraternity, but when he heard who was involved he too declined to have any further involvement. That night, Nipper once more slept in his car, but he was no longer feeling afraid. He was filled with anger and a desire for bloody revenge.
The following morning Nipper was advised by a friend to purchase a bulletproof vest because word had got around that Tucker, Tate and Rolfe were going to shoot him. The friend also mentioned he knew where Nipper could obtain a machine gun, but Nipper could not afford the asking price. The only other weapon available was a .22 revolver that was at best useless for the task in hand, but Nipper purchased it regardless.
On the Friday night, Tate and Rolfe came down to Raquels. After talking about this and that, they asked me if I had seen Nipper. I told them he hadn’t been in the club for a while. They said they wanted to check if any of his friends were in, so they walked around inside for about 15 minutes before leaving. Tate rang back later that night. He was obviously out of his head. He asked me if Nipper had turned up. I could hear him banging, as if he was punching a wall. He was shouting, saying that he was going to kill Nipper, and if he couldn’t get hold of him, he would do his family. There wasn’t a lot I could say to Tate. I just told him I’d pass on the message then put down the phone.
Nipper
‘I’ve done no wrong, he’ sacunt,’ Nipper protested, pushing the man away and trying to grab Tucker, who immediately pulled out the cleaver and swung it towards Nipper’s head. Rolfe and the other man intervened and bundled Nipper back into the bedroom. Nipper was told that if he wanted to live, he would have to leave it and let Tucker calm down. Nipper slumped on the bed in shock and total disbelief at what had happened. The three men left.
Nipper turned to Tate, the man he had once considered a friend, for help. None was forthcoming. When Nipper rang him, he was told, ‘You’re a cunt. You insulted Tucker’s woman and now you are going to die.’ Nipper put the phone down and rang Tucker in the hope the drugs had worn off and he had calmed down.
‘Have you sorted this out yet, Tone, what is going on?’ he asked.
‘Sorted what out?’ replied Tucker, ‘You’re a piece of fucking shit.’ Nipper asked what it was he had done. ‘You told my woman I fuck her up the arse.’ Nipper denied he had ever said such a thing to Tucker’s partner. ‘So you’re calling her a fucking liar now, are you?’ Tucker replied.
Nipper knew that it was an argument he was never going to win. Tucker told Nipper that he would be visiting him at his home that afternoon to sort it out, and then the phone went dead. Fearing for his life, Nipper went to the Army and Navy store in Southend and purchased a combat knife. He then telephoned a man to whom Tate had introduced him and who sold guns. Nipper told the man he had a problem and he needed a gun as soon as possible. When the man was told who the ‘problem’ was with, he said he wanted nothing to do with it and put the phone down.
That night, Nipper slept in his car because he was too frightened to return to his home. The next morning, after looking up and down the street for Tucker’s, Tate’s or Rolfe’s cars, he entered his home via the back door. To his horror, he saw that the place had been ransacked. His TV, video, camcorder, microwave and clothing had all been taken. Anything that had been left was slashed, smashed or smeared with excrement. Even the walls and doors had huge holes kicked in them. Nipper was outraged. He rang Tucker and demanded to know where his stuff was.
‘I want my fucking stuff back, you wanker. I’m going to fucking kill you,’ he shouted.
Tucker didn’t reply, he just laughed at Nipper. The line had been crossed now. Nipper knew he had to arm himself because Tucker would kill him when he found him. Nipper rang another man who bought and sold guns for the criminal fraternity, but when he heard who was involved he too declined to have any further involvement. That night, Nipper once more slept in his car, but he was no longer feeling afraid. He was filled with anger and a desire for bloody revenge.
The following morning Nipper was advised by a friend to purchase a bulletproof vest because word had got around that Tucker, Tate and Rolfe were going to shoot him. The friend also mentioned he knew where Nipper could obtain a machine gun, but Nipper could not afford the asking price. The only other weapon available was a .22 revolver that was at best useless for the task in hand, but Nipper purchased it regardless.
On the Friday night, Tate and Rolfe came down to Raquels. After talking about this and that, they asked me if I had seen Nipper. I told them he hadn’t been in the club for a while. They said they wanted to check if any of his friends were in, so they walked around inside for about 15 minutes before leaving. Tate rang back later that night. He was obviously out of his head. He asked me if Nipper had turned up. I could hear him banging, as if he was punching a wall. He was shouting, saying that he was going to kill Nipper, and if he couldn’t get hold of him, he would do his family. There wasn’t a lot I could say to Tate. I just told him I’d pass on the message then put down the phone.
Nipper
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