The Plan
No one knows for sure who first came up with the idea of robbing the Glasgow-to-London mail train, but one thing is certain, it led to one of the most audacious crimes in British history.
The Great Train Robbery of 1963 was a daring crime that had more in common with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid than a band of small-time London criminals. It was a crime that not only captivated the imagination of the worlds media and the public they served, it also succeeded in transforming one of the gang, Ronald Arthur Ronnie Biggs, into a folk hero.
A number of sources, including Peta Fordhams 1965 book The Robbers Tale, credit an unnamed leader of Londons underworld as being the brains behind the original idea which was later rejected by his gang in the early 1960s as being too ambitious. Leonard Nipper Read, the Scotland Yard detective who arrested the notorious Kray twins, suggests in his autobiography, Nipper – The Man Who Nicked the Krays, that the original plan was the brainchild of an unnamed Irishman who was well known for planning robberies and on-selling them to other criminals.
Regardless of the original source, the plan was put into play in 1962 when a member of the gang that had refused the original concept was serving time in prison and happened to mention it to fellow inmate Bruce Richard Reynolds. Reynolds, a London antique dealer and prominent thief, thought the idea had merit and used the last months of his sentence to work out the details.
Following his release, Reynolds discussed the plan with his accomplices who were known collectively as the South West gang. As his number two, Reynolds chose Douglas Gordon Goody, a suave, well-dressed London hairdresser and part-time thief who was well known in criminal circles for his courage and coolness under pressure.
Reynolds gang, although loyal and competent, didnt have the numbers that were needed for a job of such magnitude. Enter Buster Edwards. Ronald Buster Edwards, a former boxer turned jovial club owner and leader of the South East gang, was a close friend and confident of both Reynolds and Goody. After a short meeting between the three it was agreed that the two gangs would join forces for the score of a lifetime.
The other key figure in the planning and implementation was bookmaker Charles Frederick Wilson. Wilson, an affable and trustworthy associate of Reynolds, was a key member of the South West gang and an able hand on a job where clear thinking was a valuable asset.
Contrary to popular belief, no doubt fuelled by media speculation, Ronald Arthur Ronnie Biggs did not take part in the actual planning of the robbery and in fact played a fairly minor role. Biggs, described by Fordham in The Robbers Tale, as mild-mannered and not very bright, had been a small-time crook since his teens. After a string of criminal escapades had all gone sour resulting in varying periods of prison time, he became disillusioned with criminal life and turned his hand to construction work using the carpentry skills he had picked up in prison. He later formed a partnership with the bricklayer husband of one of his wifes school friends and business gradually began to pick up.
Although the business grew steadily, his modest earnings were quickly eaten up on payroll and outlay on building materials. Anxious to keep the business going and reluctant to return to crime, he contacted his friend Bruce Reynolds with a view to borrowing 500 to tide him over.
Although sympathetic to his plight, Reynolds explained that he was unable to help as most of his funds were committed to a piece of business he was involved in but, if Biggs was interested, there might be something in it for him.
Biggs, anxious to hear more, made arrangements for Reynolds to come to the house that he shared with his wife Charmaine and his two young sons. The following weekend, Reynolds, accompanied by his own wife and son, arrived at the Biggs residence and laid out the plan. Although interested, Ronnie Biggs was reluctant to commit as he was not looking forward to another, and considerably longer, stretch in prison if they were caught. The clincher came when Reynolds told Biggs that his share would be 40,000, an almost obscene amount of money in those days and well beyond the reach of any legitimate earnings Ronnie could ever hope for.
Biggs threw caution to the winds and made arrangements to meet the rest of the lads. Reynolds then added a proviso, if Biggs were to be involved, he would have to find someone who was capable of driving a diesel locomotive. As luck would have it, Ronnie knew just the man.
As he explained in detail in his 1994 autobiography Odd Man Out, Biggs had been working at the house of a man who was employed as a train driver at the local rail yards. The man, described only as Peter, was, by his own account, well versed in the intricacies of diesel locomotives and keen to help, especially when he learned how much money was involved. With the key members of the team picked and a seemingly fool-proof plan taking shape, Reynolds was ready for the next step.
The Glasgow-to-London mail train, known simply as the up postal train, comprised 12 carriages pulled by a single diesel locomotive and was a mobile mail sorting office that carried general mail items and large amounts of cash en route to London from various banks and financial institutions in Scotland. The cash and other valuable items was stored and sorted in the High Value Package coach which was two carriages back from the locomotive.
Given his underworld contacts, it wasnt hard for Reynolds to acquire the trains schedule, the location of the cash and the number of staff on the train. From his research he deduced that the amount of cash carried was considerably larger following a bank holiday. One such holiday fell on Monday August 5, 1963, which suited Reynolds perfectly. The only thing he didnt know for sure was on which day after the weekend the money would be transported to London. That information would be supplied by an inside man, yet another Irishman later referred to by the media as the Ulsterman. With most of the plan in place, Reynolds set the tentative date of the robbery for August 6, 1963.
One important detail still left to be worked out was one of the most critical. The original plan called for the robbers to board the train, disconnect the locomotive and the first two carriages from the rest and drive them to a predetermined location where the booty could be transferred to waiting trucks. The real challenge was how to stop the train without creating too much suspicion.
During a planning meeting at the home of gang member, and part-time racing driver, Roy James, the answer was provided by an associate of Buster Edwards named Roger John Cordrey. At first look, Cordrey seemed an unlikely accomplice for a robbery that demanded courage, a cool head and split-second timing. An obsessive gambler, Cordrey was a neurotic with other deeper emotional problems but his redeeming feature was that he knew trains and was an able electrician.
His solution was simple. He would fix the signals forcing the train to stop as required. A quick assessment of the route indicated that the best location for the fix would be an area known as Leighton Buzzard in Bedfordshire. Just outside of the town was a signal known as the Distant Signal, which, depending on rail traffic and the state of the track, can show either a green signal, indicating it is clear to proceed, or an amber signal which means proceed to the next signal slowly and be prepared to stop. The next signal, called the Home Signal was located some 1,300 yards further on at Sears Crossing. The timing was also perfect as it meant that the train would reach Leighton Buzzard at 3:30 a.m., which would give the robbers sufficient time to stop the train, unload the money and make their getaway under cover of darkness.
If Cordreys plan was met with early skepticism it was quickly dispelled when he demonstrated the device he had created for the task. It consisted of several batteries, lengths of wire, leather gloves and pieces of black paper. The gloves and black paper would be used to cover the legitimate green signals and the batteries would be used to light the amber signal at Leighton Buzzard and the red signal at Sears Crossing.
An added bonus was that a half a mile further on from Sears Crossing the rail line crossed Bridego Bridge, a narrow arched structure spanning a quiet country road, the perfect spot to unload the train.
The plan also required a safe house. It needed to be an isolated property in the general vicinity of the rail line where the men and vehicles could assemble before the robbery, return with the spoils afterwards and go their separate ways without fear of detection. Originally, Reynolds had intended to transport the money to a friends house in Oxfordshire, and distribute the money later but this suggestion was vehemently opposed because, as Peta Fordham wrote in The Robbers Tale, Criminals, like other men, will trust each other with life and liberty: that trust doesnt extend to money.
With time running out and his options severely limited, Reynolds suggested they procure a nearby farmhouse which, after some hurried research, seemed to fill their needs.
Leatherslade farm was in the heart of a small farming community just twenty-seven miles from the planned site of the robbery. It consisted of a dilapidated, two-story farmhouse and several small outbuildings with sufficient space for both men and vehicles.
The idea was simple but rash. They would approach the absentee owners through a solicitor and negotiate to buy the property. Pending the sale, the new owners would request to have a team of decorators stay at the farm for several days while they supposedly prepared the house for occupancy. The plan, though audacious, did succeed as planned, but Reynolds natural intelligence and attention to detail seems to have deserted him at this point as he not only had a known associate act as the dummy purchaser under his real name, he hired an easily identifiable law firm to negotiate the deal and made no real effort to cover his own trail.
With the last piece of the puzzle in place, the gang members left their various homes on Tuesday, August 6, 1963 and headed to the farm to wait for confirmation that the money was on the way.
Biggs, in his book Odd Man Out, describes how he left his home early that morning and boarded a train at Redhill Station. He had told his wife that he had secured a tree-felling contract somewhere in Wiltshire and would be gone for two weeks. Traveling on the same train, in a different section of the carriage, was Peter the train driver who had concocted a similar story to explain his own absence.
After arriving at Victoria Station, they met Reynolds and his brother-in-law, John Daly, at a café before climbing into a stolen Land Rover for the trip to the farm. Also in the vehicle were Jimmy White, a former paratrooper who was in charge of provisions and another man who Biggs describes only as Mr. Three.
By mid-morning they had arrived at the farm and, after unpacking, settled down to wait for the other gang members to arrive.
According to the Biggs account, the second group arrived in the afternoon driving a stolen army truck. They were Buster Edwards, Tom Wisbey, Jim Hussey, Bob Welch and two other men Biggs referred to as Mr. One and Mr. Two who, along with Mr. Three, were never successfully identified and subsequently never arrested. Bob Welch had brought several bottles of beer with him, a minor detail at the time, but one that was to have dire repercussions during the ensuing investigation.
Soon after, Charlie Wilson and Roy James arrived in a second stolen Land-Rover followed by Roger Cordrey on a pushbike. The last member of the gang, Gordon Goody, was at the home of an associate, Brian Field, waiting for a call from the Ulsterman to confirm when the money was to be sent.
While the rest of the gang waited for word, they calmed their nerves with a few beers over numerous games of cards and Monopoly. Goody finally arrived at the farm just before midnight with bad news, the money wasnt being sent until the following day. They would have to wait.
The following day passed quietly enough. The only exception was an unannounced visit from Mr. Wyatt, a neighbor wanting to make arrangements with the new owner for the use of a nearby field. Bruce Reynolds managed to fend off the enquiry with a promise to advise the owners of the request.
In the late afternoon the gang reviewed the plan once more and, pending the word, prepared to leave at midnight. The intention was to masquerade as an army unit on night maneuvers, hence the army vehicles. To assist in the ruse, Jimmy White distributed army uniforms and also produced fake official papers in case they were challenged.
At 10 p.m. Goody left the farm to call the Ulsterman and returned with the news theyd been waiting for. Not only was the money on its way, it was an unusually big load.
Several minutes after midnight on Thursday, August 8, the vehicles were loaded and the convoy headed for Leighton Buzzard. Biggs, whose principle job was to look after Peter the train driver, traveled in the lead Land-Rover with his charge along with Reynolds, Daly and Cordrey. Mr. Two drove. The truck, driven by Mr. One, carried most of the others with the exception of Gordon Goody, Roy James and Jimmy White who followed in the second Land-Rover. Keeping their speed to a respectable level they arrived at their destination less than an hour later.
After arriving at the distant signal, they dropped off John Daly and Roger Cordrey to take care of the signals and continued on to Bridego Bridge where they donned blue coveralls to mask their army uniforms. Reynolds had added this precaution in case they were seen on or near the rail line. He reasoned that, if spotted, they would be taken for rail workers doing routine track maintenance.
The team split up and took up their pre-assigned posts. Biggs and Peter climbed the rail embankment and walked towards Sears Crossing while tapes were unfurled across the track to indicate where the train was to be stopped for unloading. Another gang member cut the phone lines at the emergency call box beside the tracks and, to ensure the alarm wasnt raised prematurely, cut the overhead phone lines that serviced the district.
Reynolds drove to his post further up the track where he could see the approaching train and give word of its approach to the others via portable radios. With the team in place they sat down to wait.
Within the next two hours several trains came and went until finally, just after 3 a.m., Reynolds gave the word and the false signals were activated. Three minutes later the Glasgow to London mail train slowed and pulled up right next to where the men lay waiting in the darkness.
According to Biggs in Odd Man Out, Dave Whitby, the trains fireman, was the first person out of the cabin. As regulations decreed, he made his way to the emergency call box to phone ahead and seek further instructions. Finding the phone unusable he turned back to the train and saw a man (Buster Edwards) in coveralls standing beside the tracks. Assuming he was a line worker and had some clue as to the reason for the stoppage, Whitby walked towards him but was stopped by two other burly men wearing balaclavas who appeared out of the darkness and pushed him down the embankment where he was handcuffed and told not to make a sound.
Mr. Three, the biggest member of the gang, entered the cabin and was confronted by an angry Jack Mills, the driver, who resented the intrusion and tried to resist. He was quickly overpowered and, according to the Biggs account, hit only once on the head sustaining his worst injury as he fell against the side of the cabin. Bleeding profusely from a deep gash he was then dragged to the rear of the cabin and replaced by Peter.
A team led by Roy James uncoupled the rest of the train and Peter was given the word to move the diesel and the remaining mail cars forward to the marked section of track. When the train failed to move, Goody became anxious and demanded to know what the delay was. Peter was trying to explain that the train was low on brake pressure and couldnt be moved, when he was unceremoniously dragged off the train and replaced by a still groggy Jack Mills.
Under threat of further injury, Mills released the vacuum brake that Peter had overlooked and soon had the train underway and moving slowly towards Bridego Bridge. On reaching the pre-arranged spot, the train was stopped and Biggs was ordered to take the disgraced Peter back to the Land-Rover and wait, thus ending his own involvement in the actual robbery.
Alerted by the sound of the train being uncoupled, the postal workers in the High Value coach knew something was wrong but before they could react a team led by Gordon Goody smashed their way into the coach and overpowered them. Within minutes they were bound, gagged and left lying face-down on the floor of the coach as the unloading began.
A human chain was formed leading from the carriage down the embankment to the truck and the bulky mailbags were offloaded quickly and quietly until a member of the transport crew informed Reynolds that the vehicles were full. With seven bags remaining in the coach and dawn fast approaching, Reynolds gave the word to move out. The whole operation, from the time the train was stopped until they made their getaway had taken just 40 minutes.
Weighed down with heavy mailbags, the vehicles progress was slow back to Leatherslade farm. Biggs was given the job of monitoring the police band on a portable radio, but the radio remained unusually silent. Dawn was just starting to break as the convoy drove through the gates and had just pulled to a stop when the radio came to life with a brief report of the robbery.
Although tired, the men jumped to their assigned tasks, anxious to get the vehicles unloaded and out of sight before the sun was completely up.
The bags were piled in the main room of the farmhouse and after the vehicles were parked out of sight the task of counting the spoils began. With a total of one hundred and twenty bags to unpack and sort, no one was very keen to get started until one of the men slashed a bag open revealing bundles of cash. The sight of so much cash soon changed the gangs perception and they began tearing at the bags with a vigor that only greed can muster.
Reynolds took charge of the rabble and gave each one an assigned task. Several were sent to different windows of the house to keep a lookout while others were assigned to unpack all of the bags in case a tracking device had been secreted in one or more of them. He gave Cordrey and Wilson the job of counting the cash and dividing up the spoils while he helped Biggs and Mr. Two unwrap the cash and pass it to Wilson and Cordrey.
Three hours later the task was completed and every member of the gang was summoned to view the spoils and hear the final count. There before them was an enormous pile of money, over 2,631,784, more money than any of them had ever seen.
As each was given their share they packed it away and, apart from the lookouts, spent the next few hours playing cards and Monopoly while exchanging good-hearted banter regarding their success.
The original plan had called for the gang to stay at the farmhouse for up to two weeks and wait until the heat had died down before they made their next move, but a police broadcast just before noon changed all that.
From the increased radio traffic on the police band they learned that the robbery had caused a furor and every police unit in the district were working at finding those responsible. The crunch came when another report indicated that the thieves had used army vehicles at the scene and were suspected to be holed up in a farmhouse in the vicinity.
It was time to rethink the plan, and Reynolds knew they would have no more than a day to clean the farmhouse, dispose of the evidence and make good their escape. A team was dispatched to repaint the truck with yellow paint they had found in the shed while another team was delegated to collect up the mailbags and wrappings from the bundles of cash and burn them. That plan was soon abandoned however when they discovered that the fire created an enormous amount of smoke from the chimney which could attract too much unwanted attention, given that it was the middle of summer.
The idea was quickly abandoned and the rubbish taken outside to be buried. At this point Roger Cordrey suggested he ride his pushbike to the nearest village to check on the news and arrange alternate transport. Reynolds agreed and, as Cordrey set out, the rest of the gang settled down to wait.
The gang members were getting more nervous by the minute and the radio reports of the robbery did nothing to allay their fears. According to the reports, the police were convinced that the robbers were still in the area and had doubled their efforts to find the persons responsible.
Some hours later, a strange car pulled into the driveway causing much consternation until Roger Cordrey stepped out brandishing a newspaper and entered the house.
Their escapades had made the front page of every newspaper in the country and the police were promising swift justice. All present agreed it was time to make a move and two of the gang were chosen to go with Cordrey and return with sufficient transport to carry the rest of them to safety.
Gordon Goody was to make final arrangements for an unknown accomplice to be at the farm after the gang had left and take charge of the final clean-up, including the removal of all fingerprints and any other incriminating evidence. Although several members of the gang had been instructed to wipe everything down, Buster Edwards suggested that they have the farmhouse and sheds burned to the ground instead. Although the option was seriously considered at the time, a rapid turn of events made it impossible to organize in time and, as luck would have it, it would cost most of them dearly.
Two days after the robbery, the police had assembled a special flying squad made up of the best detectives available with a mandate to find and punish the offenders. The squad was under the direct command of Detective Chief Superintendent Tommy Butler. A Scotland Yard legend renowned for his dedication and thoroughness, Butler was known among the rank and file as The Grey Ghost, and was a stickler for accurate reporting and professional police work.
When investigating major crimes, most detectives rely on information they can glean from informants and seek out known offenders who are known to have committed similar offences. The investigation of the Great Train Robbery would follow a more direct path due, in large part, to incompetence, an act of betrayal and misguided trust on the part of the robbers.
According to his 1994 book, Slipper of the Yard, Jack Slipper, one of the detectives chosen for the task, relates how investigating police were initially overwhelmed, not only by the amount of money stolen, but by the virtual lack of any credible street buzz regarding the robbery. The fact that no word had leaked out before, during or after the robbery was an indication, to Slipper at least, that they were dealing with top-class villains.
The first break came just eight days into the investigation when a public appeal for information resulted in a tip concerning a suspicious vehicle at a farm within thirty miles of the scene. Initially overlooked, the call, from a farm laborer in the area, was eventually followed up and the gangs hideout was discovered.
The police were ecstatic, telling reporters the site was one big clue. According to Peta Fordhams The Robbers Tale, the gang members were appalled when they learned that the man they had hired, at great expense, to clean the farmhouse of any trace of incriminating evidence, had taken their money on false pretences and left behind a wealth of clues for the police to find.
Knowing that whatever was found at the farm would form the basis of the police case, Tommy Butler ordered the area sealed off and instructed the fingerprint and physical evidence crews to take all the time they needed to extract every trace of evidence from the scene.
Within a day of the farm being processed for evidence, the first gang member, Roger Cordrey, was arrested and charged with taking part in the robbery. His quick arrest was thought to be a result of his criminal background and his knowledge of trains, which was well known to the police.
In his biography, Odd Man Out, Ronald Biggs relates how news of Cordreys arrest was worry enough but when a suitcase containing 100,000 was recovered from woodlands just a few short miles from his own house, worry quickly turned to panic and he began to fear for his freedom.
His fears were well founded as a week later Charlie Wilson was arrested in London and police announced that they were anxious to contact Bruce Reynolds, Jimmy White, Roy James and Buster Edwards to assist them with their enquiries. He knew it was only a matter of time until the police connected him to Reynolds and came calling.
Two days later the police did come. One of the officers was Jack Slipper, a man who would become a nagging part of Biggs life for many years to come. The first visit to the Biggs residence was informal enough. A few brief questions, a quick look around and that was it. The second, a month later, was anything but. Biggs was taken into custody and transported to Scotland Yard for questioning. Tommy Butler conducted the interview personally and it was short and sweet, according to the Biggs account. After a few perfunctory questions that Biggs refused to answer, Butler told him that even though he had not yielded any information regarding his or anyone elses part in the robbery, he was to be charged with conspiracy to rob anyway as the evidence against him was compelling. That said, Butler instructed his men to take Biggs to Aylesbury police station in Buckinghamshire where he was fingerprinted, photographed and formally charged with the crime.
The following day Biggs appeared before a magistrate and was remanded into custody. He was sent to Bedford prison in Bedfordshire to await trial. Also at Bedford were Charlie Wilson, Tommy Wisbey, Jim Hussey and Bob Welch. After they had compared stories, they were certain that they had been fitted for the crime after being named as associates of Bruce Reynolds by someone unknown to them.
This theory was quickly dispelled when Charmaine Biggs arrived at the prison with startling news that she had gleaned from a friend with connections inside Scotland Yard. The reason Biggs and his friends had been arrested was because their fingerprints had been found at the farmhouse. More depressing still was the fact that the prints in question had been lifted off a ketchup bottle, beer bottles and several Monopoly game pieces, items that they could have easily taken with them.
Sometime later they learned from the news that Gordon Goody had been picked up and questioned but hadnt been charged due to insufficient evidence. He later visited them in prison and told them that Reynolds had arranged for a solicitor to represent them. Some weeks later, after a game of cat and mouse with the police, he too was arrested, charged and joined his associates inside.
By November Biggs was thinking about escape but before he could make any serious attempts all five of the gang were transferred to Aylesbury prison in Buckinghamshire and kept together in the hospital wing which had been specially cleared to house them. Security was stepped up and any thoughts of escape were shelved for the time being.
Within days of the move, they learned that John Wheater, the solicitor who had negotiated the sale of the farm to Reynolds, had been charged and imprisoned awaiting trial. His chief clerk and Goody associate, Brian Fields, had also been charged.
The next to be picked up was Reynolds brother-in-law, John Daly, followed in quick succession by Roy James who had led the police on a merry chase across neighboring rooftops prior to his arrest. They were both sent to Aylesbury.
After several weeks security was relaxed and the gang members were allowed to spend longer periods of time together. The main item of discussion, apart from their arrests, was the pending trial. Having learned from their solicitor that the evidence against them was strong, meaning long prison terms for most of them, the talk again turned to escape. In Odd Man Out, Biggs describes how the men befriended a guard and, in exchange for cash, allegedly obtained certain items of contraband to aid them in their escape. The main item that was smuggled in was a key blank that they were able to file down and use to unlock their cells and access doors.
The plan progressed well but was terminated at the last minute when Bill Boal, one of the key players who had been arrested for helping Roger Cordrey hide his share of the loot, got cold feet and tipped off a guard. Within hours their cells was searched for contraband and any suspicious items confiscated. The guards were changed, security was tightened and all privileges, including outside visits and close communication between prisoners, were cancelled which meant the entire group were in permanent lockdown.
Following the aborted escape, the members of the gang were kept under close observation which lasted through Christmas 1963 until their trial began on January 20, 1964 As the robbery had taken place in Buckinghamshire, they were transported to Aylesbury courthouse to appear before Justice Edmund Davies who had a reputation for tough sentencing, especially when dealing with career criminals. Before the trial had even opened it was discovered that the small district courtroom was far too small to house the proceedings so the local council chambers was converted for the purpose.
The prosecution opened their case by calling several bank officials to give evidence as to the amount of money carried and allegedly stolen. According to Biggs, the venue was cramped and hot causing members of the jury and even his own defense attorney to doze off during testimony, a fact that quickly influenced Biggs to change lawyers.
The proceedings were slow and arduous until Jack Mills, the train driver, took the stand. Still recovering from the effects of his head injury, Mills told his story in complete detail giving special emphasis to the injuries he had sustained at the hands of the robbers. His evidence was compelling and had a sobering affect on both judge and jury.
On the 14th day of the trial Biggs had his first stroke of luck when a police inspector inadvertently gave evidence suggesting that Biggs had previously spent time in jail thereby, under British law, making it difficult for the jury to make an impartial verdict. After a brief conference between all parties concerned, Judge Davies called a halt to proceedings and ordered that Biggs be removed from the court and returned to prison pending a retrial.
In February the prosecution rested their case and the defense began in earnest. With so many accused, the presentation of their evidence including the testimonies of the supporting witnesses took some time so it wasnt until March when John Daly got the break of his life. Originally implicated after his fingerprints were recovered from a Monopoly set found at the farm, Daly had toyed with the idea of pleading guilty and throwing himself on the mercy of the court. Therefore no one was more surprised than him when his lawyer made a submission to the court that the monopoly set could have had his fingerprints on it before it was taken to the farm. The jury agreed and Daly was acquitted.
On March 10, while Daly enjoyed his new found freedom, the trial drew to an end as closing speeches began. Four days later they were over to be followed by six days of summing up by Judge Davies.
On March 23, 1964, the jury retired for two days to consider their verdicts and found all the accused guilty of conspiracy to rob while Tom Wisbey, Roy James, Charlie Wilson, Bob Welch, Jim Hussey and Gordon Goody were all found guilty of robbery with violence. According to the Biggs account, Bill Boal, a gang associate was also convicted even though he had played no part in the robbery.
Sentencing was delayed until after Biggs retrial which was set down for April 8.
Any thoughts that a new trial in front of a different jury would give him an advantage were quickly dispelled when Biggs entered court. The new trial was short and sweet. The prosecution presented its case against him, his defense countered with their evidence, Judge Davies summed up and just seven days later it was all over. The verdict guilty on both counts.
Sentencing was set down for the following day so with the convicted felons assembled before him Justice Davies called them forward one by one and passed the following sentences:
- Roger John Cordrey 20 years
- William Gerald Boal 24 years
- Charles Frederick Wilson 30 years
- Brian Arthur Field 25 years
- Roy John James 30 years
- Thomas William Wisbey 30 years
- Robert Alfred Welch 30 years
- James Hussey 30 years
- Douglas Gordon Goody 30 years
- Leonard Dennis Field 25 years
- Ronald Arthur Biggs 30 years
John Wheater, Reynolds solicitor friend who arranged the fake purchase of Leatherslade Farm was also convicted and sentenced to three years in prison.
While most of the accused would later appeal against the severity of their sentences and be refused, Roger Cordrey and Bill Boal were able to have their sentences reduced to fourteen years a piece while Brian Field and Leonard Field (no relation) each had their sentences reduced to just five years.
Within weeks the gang were sent to various prisons across the country to begin their sentences. While most of the gang were sent to Brixton prison, Biggs was taken first to Lincoln prison and later to Wandsworth, Britains answer to Alcatraz.
According to his account in Odd Man Out, Biggs began thinking about escape from the first day he was there. On August 12, 1964, while Biggs was still thinking about it, Charlie Wilson made good his own escape from Winson Green prison in Birmingham with the assistance of three strangers.
Following Wilsons successful escape, the rest of the gang, including Biggs, were placed under close surveillance or Special Watch.
Although strict, the new restrictions still allowed for regular exercise periods and it was during one of these that Biggs began to conspire with two fellow inmates, Paul Seabourne and Eric Flower to plan an escape.
While Eric was serving 12 years for robbery, Pauls release after a four year stretch was imminent and would make him an able accomplice on the outside.
The plan was simple enough. On the day in question, Biggs and Flower made sure they took their exercise period together and shortly after 3 p.m. on Thursday, July 8, 1965, a van pulled up next to the perimeter wall, rope ladders were thrown over and, while two other inmates distracted the guards, Biggs and Flower climbed the wall where Seabourne waited to assist them down onto the roof of a specially converted removals van and into a waiting get away car. The only complication was that several other inmates took the opportunity to escape as well meaning seven people instead of an expected four were crammed into the getaway car.
A few miles away, they exchanged vehicles and the other inmates went their separate ways while Biggs, Seabourne and Flower went to a pre-arranged hideout.
Seabourne would later be caught and returned to prison to serve four and a half years for his part in the escape while Biggs and Flower were hidden in various parts of the country for several months before being smuggled across the English Channel to Antwerp in Belgium where, in exchange for a large amount of money they were given new passports, clothes and facial reconstruction to mask their appearance. The latter, described by Biggs in Odd Man Out as, so painful that I didnt think I would survive it.
By Christmas Biggs had healed from his surgery and was on his way to Sydney, Australia, traveling under the name Terrence Furminger. He would later reunite with his family and Eric Flowers and spend several years hiding out and adapting to their new surroundings.
They were still living and working in Australia in 1968, when they received the news that Bruce Reynolds, Charlie Wilson and Jimmy White had been arrested and each given long terms in jail. Buster Edwards had given himself up to police two years before which left Biggs as the only member of the gang still at large.
They spent the rest of the year and most of 1969 in Australia but word had filtered back to England to suggest that Biggs and Flowers may be hiding out in Melbourne, Victoria. Soon after a police task force was formed to investigate.
With the chance of detection and recapture now very real Biggs and his wife decided that they should split up, he to leave the country and she and the kids to stay in Australia and face the consequences.
Within days Biggs was hiding out in a mountainous region of Victoria while Charmaine stayed in Melbourne.
Just days later the police raided the house that the Biggs family had been renting in Melbourne and took Charmaine into custody. She was later charged with entering the country illegally and released. On October 24, 1969, Eric Flowers was arrested in Sydney.
With the aid of friends, Biggs was able to stay out of site for a few months but when news was received that police suspected where he was hiding he scraped together some money and a borrowed passport and booked passage to Panama on the S.S. Ellinis which departed on February 5, 1970. Once in Panama he booked a flight to Rio de Janeiro via Caracas, Venezuela.
He landed in Rio on March 11, 1970 as Michael Haynes and settled into a cheap, waterfront hotel. According to his own account in Odd Man Out, Biggs had very little money at this point having paid out a large proportion of his share of the loot in order to stay out of police hands.
Living cheaply, doing odd jobs and carpentry wherever he could, Biggs gradually settled into life in Rio. While still in constant touch with his wife and family, he led a full and eventful life and entertained a string of women and enjoyed the company of a broad circle of friends. It was during this period that he received the tragic news from home that his eldest son Nicky had been killed in a car accident.
Biggs was understandably devastated and this, added to the fact that he was already financially depressed and missing his family got him seriously thinking about giving himself up. To add further complication, his live-in girlfriend Raimunda informed him that she was carrying his child. Now more than ever he needed money, not only to support his family back home but for his new Brazilian family. To this end he had a friend contact the major newspapers in England and offer them the exclusive story of him giving himself up in exchange for 50,000 in cash.
In January 1974 he got a solid bite when the Daily Express contacted his friend and offered to buy the story. After sending the paper a letter complete with his signature and fingerprints to verify his identity, the paper agreed to send a reporter to meet with him in Rio.
On January 30 the reporter arrived and arranged to meet Biggs at his hotel. Ronnie, in company with a young attractive lady friend, went to the Trocadero Hotel to keep the appointment. The meeting went well with the reporter, Colin Mackenzie and a photographer named Bill Lovelace in attendance. After some discussion Mackenzie told Biggs that the paper had only authorized him to pay 35,000 for the story. Biggs readily accepted.
The deal made, Biggs and Mackenzie got straight to work to get the story down while the photographer recorded the event. For much of the next two days they worked at it and were still working on the morning of the third when a knock came at the hotel door and a group of men were let into the room. They were the local police commissioner, the British Consul-General, the Brazilian Vice-Consul and two Scotland Yard detectives, Detective Inspector Peter Jones and Biggs nemesis Detective Chief Superintendent Jack Slipper Ronnie had been well and truly busted!
Almost a month of legal wrangling followed while the British government sought his extradition. This was complicated as no formal extradition treaty existed between the two countries. Finally the local authorities decided that Biggs should be incarcerated in a Brazilian jail for ninety days pending further enquiries. So on February 4, he was flown to Brasilia to begin his internment. While on the plane he was given a newspaper and discovered the truth about his situation. When the police had turned up at his hotel room hed assumed that they had followed the reporters trail to Rio. Little did he realize that it had been a scam from the start. The police had got their man, the Daily Express had gotten their story and it hadnt cost them a cent!
During his time in jail Biggs learned from his fellow prisoners that because he was living with a Brazilian woman who was expecting his baby the authorities would be reluctant to deport him.
Within weeks Charmaine had come to visit him and even though she was unhappy about him having a child with another woman she was still pleased to see him. Colin Mackenzie the Daily Express reporter also came to see him and managed to convince Biggs that he had no part in the deception his paper had perpetrated in collusion with Scotland Yard. Biggs chose to believe him especially as Mackenzie was interested in doing a book about him. Biggs agreed and some weeks later Mackenzie returned to see him and told him that Granada Publishing, a British publishing house, had advanced them 65,000 for the book rights.
With money behind them the first order of business was to hire a lawyer to prevent Biggs being deported and to that end Mackenzie hired prominent Brazilian lawyer, Dr Paulo Sepulveda Pertence.
Biggs case was getting good exposure in the press especially when his lawyer arranged for him to appear at a family court for the purposes of claiming paternity of Raimundas unborn child. Pertence also had a writ of habeas corpus drawn up to secure Biggs release just as soon as his ninety days incarceration was over.
On May 6, 1974, the waiting was over and Biggs was fingerprinted, released and flown to Rio, handcuffed and under guard. It wasnt until he was on the plane that he learned his case had been heard and that he was to be released on conditional liberty.
While Jack Slipper returned to England empty handed and disillusioned, Biggs returned to his home under his real name, and, provided he stayed in Brazil, he was a free man.
Biggs enjoyed the weeks of attention that followed his release and, despite a 10 p.m. curfew that had been imposed as part of his conditional release and the fact that he was not allowed to work, he enjoyed his new found freedom. Just weeks later his wife arrived in Rio with their sons and after a difficult few weeks they decided to end their marriage for good and go their separate ways.
The following August Raimunda gave birth to Michael Fernand Nacimento de Castro Biggs, his fourth son.
A year later Raimunda left for Europe to pursue a theatrical career and left Biggs to raise his son. She was supposed to be gone just three months but returned two and a half years later.
Biggs existed on the money he raised by selling interviews but that never lasted long with two mouths to feed and no other income. Numerous offers of book and film contracts were made over the years but with the exception of one or two never yielded more than a few thousand pounds.
A month later Biggs was approached by Malcolm McLaren the manager of British punk band The Sex Pistols, and asked to appear with the band while they were in Rio. Biggs not only appeared with the band, he also wrote a song with them called No One is Innocent that allegedly sold over seven million copies world wide. According to his own account in Odd Man Out, Biggs received no royalties.
It was this financial desperation that created yet another drama in his life when Biggs agreed to conduct an interview with a reporter who claimed to be from National Geographic. In his book Odd Man Out Biggs claimed that during the interview he thought something was wrong but agreed to meet the reporter and his wife the following day for lunch.
The date, according to Biggs, was March 16, 1981. The venue was a restaurant on Urca mountain, a popular tourist attraction next to Rios famous Sugar Loaf mountain. Biggs arrived at the allotted time of 9.00 p.m. but instead of the reporter he encountered several men who grabbed him from behind and, after a brief struggle, dragged him to a waiting van.
Wrapped inside a bag in the back of a moving vehicle Biggs recognized some of the voices around him. It was the same men that had tried to kidnap him two years previously by luring him out of Rio to take part in a bogus film shoot. At the last minute Biggs had been tipped off and notified the authorities. Now it seemed they were back and hell bent on completing the task.
The men were all former soldiers from the British Scots Guards regiment, an outfit that prides themselves on their mental and physical toughness. The leader of this particular crew was a man called John Miller, a rough character known for his outrageous behavior and involvement in dangerous exploits.
After a short trip, the van stopped and Biggs was carried to a jet aircraft and unceremoniously bundled onboard.
After several hours flying time the plane landed and he was carried to a waiting vehicle. A radio was playing in the background and Biggs recognized the call sign as being from the town of Belem, a seaport in northern Brazil some 2,000 miles from Rio.
He was then driven to another location where he was taken onboard a dinghy and rowed out to a yacht where he was finally released from the confines of the suffocating bag to face his captors.
He discovered that the 62-foot yacht called Nowcani II had been hired by Miller and his men in Antigua in the Caribbean. It was fully equipped and capable of sailing anywhere in the world.
Miller told Biggs that rather than hand him over to the authorities, they were going to sell the story of his kidnapping to the highest bidder. The following day the yacht put to sea, without Miller, and within hours was clear of Brazilian waters.
With all hope lost of being released by the Brazilian authorities, Biggs had nothing better to do than make the most of the trip which consisted of eating, sleeping, drinking, sun baking and smoking the occasional joint.
Two days later Biggs was shaken awake by one of the men and told to get up on deck. Biggs, still groggy from sleep and the affects of alcohol, stumbled on deck to see a sleek, gray gunboat pulled up alongside. After identifying himself to the officer in charge he was told that the yacht had been impounded by the Barbados Coast Guard and would be towed back to Bridgetown.
On his arrival in Barbados he was fingerprinted, examined by a doctor and taken to a police station where he was treated well and given a bed for the night. The following day he met with a local lawyer who explained that the kidnappers had been released and had sailed the yacht on to Antigua.
A hearing to decide his fate had been called for the following day but his lawyer assured him that he would do everything to make sure he was returned to Brazil. According to the Biggs account he was treated very well in Barbados and given whatever he wanted, except his freedom.
With the support of an additional lawyer secured by an author friend, Biggs went before the magistrate Frank King who presided over the proceedings complete with a packed public gallery and a heavy contingent of media representatives from all over the world. Ronnie was in the public eye once more and loving every minute of it.
After two days of submissions from both prosecution and defense attorneys, magistrate King adjourned the proceedings for another day before giving his decision. Biggs was to be returned to Great Britain and handed over to the relevant authorities.
He was later moved to a tougher prison on the island to await his deportation.
An appeal against the decision was lodged and within a short period Biggs was back in court contesting the decision. The appeal was thorough in its preparation and execution and was accepted by a panel of judges who retired to chambers to ponder their verdict. Twenty-five minutes later Biggs was free again!
The media had a field day covering every aspect of the case and its aftermath. A televised phone link was arranged to milk every ounce of pathos out of an emotional Ronald Biggs placing a daddys coming home call to his son. By late that afternoon a Lear jet had been arranged, courtesy of two TV networks, to take Biggs back to Rio his luck had allowed him to slip through the cracks again.
It wasnt long before the media spotlight dimmed and Biggs returned to the harsh reality of living without an income yet again, especially after he totaled the bills that had amassed while he had been away. The answer to his financial woes came from an unexpected quarter, his 6-year-old son Michael.
During the media circus that followed the kidnapping, Michael had been interviewed on television and did an impromptu song and dance routine that a friend of his fathers had taught him. After the show the moment was forgotten until a few weeks later when a CBS record executive contacted Biggs with a view to making a record with Michael and two other local kids.
A contract was signed, the children were assembled and cut their first recording. Under the name of the Magic Balloon Gang the group was an instant success with a gold record guaranteed on their first attempt. Touring followed and yet more success and the money rolled in. Biggs reveled in the role of stage-door dad and was given special permission from the Brazilian government to tour with his son.
Biggs made enough money to live on and buy an apartment in his sons name with enough left for a reasonable nest egg for Michael. Five years later the magic left the balloon gang and the group was disbanded.
Biggs later invested much of the money in a bar but it eventually went broke taking most of their savings down with it. Before long Biggs was back selling his story to anyone that would listen but as the years progressed he found the audience dwindling.
His saving grace came about when an upsurge in tourism turned him into a walking tourist attraction as more and more tour operators cashed in on The Biggs Experience, as it came to be called. A steady stream of tourists could visit Ronnie at home, enjoy his hospitality, have photographs taken and autographs signed by him all for $50! Biggs relates in Odd Man Out how he hit on the idea of printing tee shirts bearing the legend I met someone who went to Brazil and met Ronnie Biggs honest. According to Biggs, They sold like hotcakes and still do.
The years came and went and so did the tourists, the authors, the filmmakers and the promises of riches but Biggs always seemed to fall just short of cashing in on his notoriety to any great degree. Despite the thousands of pounds he made over the years there were always bills to pay and food to put on the table.
Even though Biggs lived out most of his life free from incarceration for a crime he freely admits to, his life has been less than idyllic because it lacked the one thing that most people in the western world take for granted their freedom.
In May 2001 Ronald Biggs sent a one page e-mail to Detective Chief Superintendent John Coles, the head of Scotland Yard’s Serious and Organized Crime Group. It allegedly said: “I would like to give myself up to you. I need passport documentation to travel back to Britain. I am prepared to be arrested at the gate when I arrive at Heathrow airport and submit myself to the due process of the law.”
Citing ill health after suffering a stroke, his third in two years, the 71-year-old Biggs expressed a desire to end his days on home soil. He told the BBC, “I am a sick man. My last wish is to walk into a Margate pub as an Englishman and buy a pint of bitter. I hope I live long enough to do that.
On May 7, 2001, a private jet carrying Ronald Biggs touched down at Northop RAF base in Middlesex, U.K. Detective Chief Superintendent Coles and a contingent of police met the plane and took Biggs into custody and transported him to Belmarsh prison hospital. Later the same day he appeared at a West London magistrates court and was ordered back to prison to serve the remaining 28 years of his original 35-year sentence.
Despite numerous appeals, Ronald Biggs still spends each and every day laying in a prison hospital bed being fed through a tube having lost the ability to feed himself or speak since suffering a fourth stroke nearly two years ago.
To this day his son Michael wages a constant battle with British authorities to secure his fathers release so he can live out his final days free from prison, but it seems as though Ronnies famous luck has finally run out.