Vanessa Richardson (0:00)

Foreign this is Crime House. During the week of May 5, 1911, brothers J.B. and J.J. mcNamara made their first appearance in court for orchestrating one of the deadliest bombings in US history. 57 years later, on May 8, 1968, London police arrested two of England's most prolific gangsters, identical twins Ronnie and Reggie Cray. Making this week's theme Killer Siblings. Welcome to Crime House, the show a Crime House original. I'm Vanessa Richardson. Every Monday, we uncover crimes from this week in history, serial killers, disappearances and murder, all linked by a common theme. One case from the past, one closer to the present. Crime House is made possible by you, our community. Please rate, review and follow Crime House the show for early ad, free access and exclusive bonus content. Subscribe to Crime House plus on Apple Podcasts. This week's theme is Killer Siblings. First, we go back to 1911, when the McNamara brothers were brought to justice after planting a bond at the Los Angeles times headquarters, killing 21 people. Then we'll flash forward to the same week in 1968 when twins Ronnie and Reggie Cray's nearly 15 year crime spree finally came to an end. Today we're taking a deep dive into the cases of four infamous criminals. Two sets of brothers whose appetite for violence, chaos and destruction made headlines on both sides of the Atlantic. All that and more coming up. Hey, it's Vanessa. And if you love Crime House, the show the ultimate destination for true crime fans, then you have to check out Clues with Morgan Absher and Kaylin Moore. Every Wednesday, Kaylin and Morgan take you deep into the world of the most notorious crimes ever, clue by clue. And what I really love about Clues is how they break down the ways that even the smallest pieces of evidence can crack a case wide open. From serial killers to shocking murders, Clues dives into all the forensic details and brilliant sleuthing of the world's most infamous cases. Clues is a Crime House original. Powered by Pave Studios. New episodes drop every Wednesday. Just search clues wherever you listen to podcasts. On May 5, 1911, the people of Los Angeles only had one thing on their minds. Would the McNamara brothers go free? Outside the hall of justice, crowds packed the streets wearing buttons and waving signs in support of JB and JJ McNamara. But the scene inside the courthouse was very different. There, the judge handed JB and JJ a 3,000 page printed document. According to 183 different witnesses, the brothers had without a doubt carried out the crime of the century, blowing up the headquarters of the Los Angeles Times newspaper. The Results were devastating. 21 people lost their lives and over 100 were injured. The brothers knew they'd be fighting an uphill battle in court. Even their lawyer, the celebrated attorney Clarence Darrow, took one look at the evidence against them and exclaimed, by God, you've left a trail a mile wide. But JB and JJ didn't care if they spent the rest of their lives behind bars, because they were fighting for something much larger than themselves. The working man. The brothers were members of the Bridge and Structural Iron Workers Union, one of the country's biggest labor organizations at the time. And they weren't in it alone. Tens of thousands of union members in Los Angeles and every other major American city were marching and fundraising in solidarity with the McNamaras. As far as the marchers knew, JB and JJ were two innocent labor activists who'd been framed by big business to discredit the entire union movement. But JB and JJ were guilty not just of blowing up the Los Angeles times, but countless other buildings across the country. To understand how the McNamaras became some of the most celebrated and reviled men in America, we need to go back in time. Because before any of that happened, they were just two Midwestern boys who were forced to grow up too fast. J.J. mcNamara was born in Cincinnati in 1876. J.B. was born six years later in 1882. Neighbors described the McNamara family as poor but respectable. However, the respectable label disappeared in 1894 when their father was arrested for sexually assaulting their younger sister. He was sentenced to life in prison and from then on, it became 17 year old JJ's job to provide for his mother and younger siblings. So JJ dropped out of school and took on a variety of odd jobs. In 1898, he landed a gig as an iron worker. Riveting beams together high above the streets of Cincinnati. He earned a dollar fifty a day, or about $57 in today's money, even though at the time, building skyscrapers was one of the most dangerous jobs a man could do. And the more job sites JJ visited, the more concerned he became about the lack of safety measures. Even more upsetting was the way building owners responded to accidents on the job. In one instance, an iron worker fell 10 stories to his death. The company attorneys tried to give the man's grieving widow fifty dollars, or about nineteen hundred dollars in today's money, just to shut her up. In response to abuses like these, iron workers organized the Bridge and Structural Iron Workers Union. Their mission was advocate for better pay and better working conditions. JJ was all in and joined the union soon after becoming an Iron worker. It was a decision that would change the course of his life. As a union man, JJ Saw how organized labor could push back against corporate greed and fight for the rights of working people. He quickly realized he wanted to be on the front lines of that fight. And the best way to do that wasn't on the job site, it was in the courtroom. Soon he enrolled in night school to become a lawyer. Once he had his law degree, JJ Went to work for the union as a legal representative for injured workers. But while JJ Was driven, studious and ambitious, his younger brother JB Was more of a wild card. He spent large chunks of his childhood in juvenile detention, locked up for skipping school and petty theft. As his older brother grew into a respectable labor lawyer, JB Became a chain smoking, saloon hopping man who got fired from almost every job. But despite these many failures, J.J. had big plans for his little brother. In 1905, when J.B. was about 22, he arrived in Indianapolis, Indiana. He'd been called there by JJ who at 28 years old was just elected secretary treasurer of the Ironwork Workers union. Sitting in his office at union headquarters, JJ Introduced his little brother to a new career path. In his years of climbing the ranks of the union, JJ had grown increasingly frustrated with the steel industry. He'd seen bosses use legal loopholes to get injured workers cases moved to federal courts. There, friendly judges ruled in the company's favor and forced workers to pay expensive court fees. But now the bosses were going even further. Several major employers had banded together to form the National Erectors association, or nea. They used the millions of dollars at their disposal to sabotage unions with spies, strikebreakers and anti union legislation all over the country, the iron Workers union didn't have the resources to fight back and were losing one court case after another. This wave of defeats convinced JJ that the steel industry would never respond to civilized measures like strikes and legal battles. If the big bosses wanted to fight dirty, then he was ready to do the same. So for the last few months, JJ had been quietly putting together a stockpile of dynamite. He didn't want to hurt anybody. He just wanted to hit the NEA where it hurt. By blowing up the buildings they'd invested their money in. Now JJ Just needed somebody to plant the bombs. Somebody who wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty. Somebody he could trust not to rat him out to the police. Somebody like his little brother, J.B. in February 1908, a wave of bombings swept the nation. Over the next three years, some estimate that nearly 150 buildings and bridges under construction were blown up at a rate of almost one per week. All of the targeted structures were being built by companies aligned with the NEA using non union labor. The bombings always happened in the middle of the night when there were no employees on site. But even though there were no casualties, the property damage was extensive. Soon, many of those companies decided it was cheaper to sign a union contract than risk having their entire project wiped out. JJ McNamara and his fellow union officials publicly denounced the bombing campaign. But behind closed doors, union leadership celebrated JJ for finding a way to push back against the nea. They also applauded his brother JB for his work. And JB didn't plan to stop anytime soon. He was in it for the long haul. This job had given him a sense of purpose he'd never had before. He crisscrossed the country on trains, lugging suitcases filled to the brim with explosives. At night, he'd sneak into an empty job site and hide one of his bombs in a corner. By the time it exploded, he was on a train miles away, headed to his next location. Then JJ Used the funds from the union's entertainment committee budget to pay his brother handsomely for each successful explosion. But while JB Was thrilled about his new career, JJ Wasn't satisfied. Although the NEA was falling apart in the Midwest, anti union forces were gaining ground on the West Coast. JJ Decided the next target on his list wouldn't be a construction site. It would be the one newspaper that relentlessly worked to turn public opinion against his and other unions. And this time, JJ didn't care how much blood was spilled. Hey, it's Vanessa. And if you love Crime House, the show the ultimate destination for true crime fans, then you have to check out Clues with Morgan Absher and Kailyn Moore. Just like we explore notorious cases each week, every Wednesday, Kaelyn and Morgan take you deep into the world of the most notorious crimes ever. Clue by clue. And what I really love about Clues is how they break down the ways that even the smallest pieces of evidence can crack a case wide open. From serial killers to shocking murders, Clues dives into all the forensic details and brilliant sleuthing of the world's most infamous cases. If you're looking for compelling storytelling, crime scene analysis, and a new perspective through some of the world's most puzzling true crime cases. Then you have to check out clues. Clues is a Crime House original. Powered by Pave Studios. New episodes drop every Wednesday. Just search Cluz wherever you listen to podcasts. In 1910, Los Angeles was one of the fastest growing cities in the country with a population of 300,000 and counting. Los Angeles Times was the most influential paper in town and it was aggressively opposed to the labor unions that were trying to organize in the city's factories and rail yards. That was due to the paper's owner and editor, a wealthy 74 year old Civil War veteran named Harrison Gray Otis. Otis was a smart and ruthless businessman. He'd put all his competitors out of business. Then when his employees went on strike for better wages, he replaced them with non union workers. He asserted his dominance over the city from the penthouse of the four story building that housed the Los Angeles Times. He dubbed it the fortress. In JJ McNamara's mind, Otis was the worst of the worst. Not only did he treat his employees badly, but he was close friends with President William Howard Taft, who was notoriously anti union. Otis also personally wrote editorials calling labor leaders hoodlums and cowards. It was clear to JJ he'd found his most formidable enemy and he was ready to fight fire with fire. On the afternoon of September 29, 1910, J.B. mcNamara arrived in Los Angeles with a suitcase full of dynamite in his hotel room. JB Wired up three cheap alarm clocks to three separate bundles of dynamite and hid them in small leather suitcases. As night fell, JB Placed the first suitcase in a flower bed outside the home of Felix Zhandler, the head of a local business organization and one of Otis's most powerful allies. He left the second outside Otis's own own mansion. Both bombs were set to go off at 1am JB hit his final bomb in an alley next to the Fortress. Then he snuck into the building, bluffing his way past a security guard. The newsroom was full of employees working on the next morning's paper, but JB Paid them no mind as he went to the basement. There he pried open the pipes that supplied the building with natural gas. Soon the basement was flooded with highly flammable fumes. When the clock struck 1am On October 1, 1910, J.B. mcNamara was on a train heading north to San Francisco. Back in Los Angeles, all was quiet. JB didn't know it at the time, but the bombs he'd left outside Otis and Felix Z. Handler's homes had failed to explode because of some faulty wiring. He didn't make the same mistake with the bomb outside the Fortress, though. The timing was just a little off. But at 1:07am it blew inside. The force of the explosion, coupled with the fumes in the basement, lifted each of the four floors upward. It tossed machinery, desks, and employees in every direction. Plaster and debris rained down, impaling the unlucky employees who were on the night shift getting the morning edition ready, people did whatever they could to try and escape. On the third floor, several men used a stepladder as a makeshift bridge to get to a neighboring building. On the second floor, half a dozen others were forced to jump down an open elevator shaft. Badly injured and burned, some crawled up a male chute and onto the street. Whoever was left climbed out the windows and gathered on the ledge. With flames licking at their backs, the desperate survivors jumped from the fourth floor. Most of them died when they hit the ground. Eventually, the southwest wall of the fortress collapsed. Luckily, the dozens of men and women still inside had been standing far enough away that they weren't trapped when the wall gave out. Instead, it created an opening for them, and they were able to finally escape. They staggered out of the ruined building and into the arms of first responders. An hour later, as a stream of horse drawn ambulances carted the wounded to area hospitals, firefighters finally extinguished the inferno. In the end, 21 people were killed in the bombing and over 100 people were injured. At the time, it was one of the deadliest criminal acts in American history. And as the smoke cleared, the biggest manhunt in American history was about to begin. As dawn broke on October 1, 1910, the headquarters of the Los Angeles Times lay in ruins. And yet the paper hit newsstands. Otis knew some union activists were ruthless and was expecting them to attack the business one day. So he'd still stashed extra printing presses in a nearby warehouse just in case. Hours after the bombing, Otis directed his employees, some of them still covered in blood and soot from the bombing, to go to the temporary headquarters and get to work on a special edition. Although there wasn't any evidence yet, Otis had already made up his mind about who was responsible. That morning's headline set the tone for much of the national coverage of the bombing. It read, unionist Bombs Wreck the Times. Many seriously injured. Up to that point, JB and JJ McNamara's bombings had been fairly popular with the American public. But that's because there hadn't been any casualties and people sympathized with workers and wanted them to win better contracts. But the carnage at the Los Angeles Times made people rethink their loyalties. Sensing a backlash, major unions distanced themselves from the attack. In an official statement about the bombing, a representative for the iron Workers union wrote, such an act is anarchy, pure and simple. No sane organization would resort to anything of the kind, I do not believe that labor unions had anything to do with it. The author of that statement was J.J. mcNamara. In November 1910, about a month after the bombing, J.J. arranged for his brother to hide out at a hunting lodge in northern Wisconsin. He sent a few other union men along to keep an eye on jb, who wasn't doing well. He was consumed by guilt after reading stories about the damage he'd done. He also knew that LA's mayor had hired private investigator William J. Burns, known in the media as America's Sherlock Holmes, to bring the bomber to justice. Huddled in a drafty cabin in the middle of nowhere, JB was a nervous wreck. Living off cigarettes and whiskey, he frequently broke down in tears, sobbing about how much he regretted his actions. When a party of four hunters checked into a nearby cabin, JB's companions were relieved to have some other people to talk to. They had food, booze, and a camera. Whenever they were hanging out with the group, they always asked JB to pose for a photo. Except the friendly guests in the next cabin over weren't actually hunters. They were private investigators working for Detective William J. Burns. And after getting some inside information from a contact at the union, they'd followed JB to Wisconsin. Now they were pretty sure they'd found their man, and they had the pictures to prove it. Right away, one of the detectives took the negatives and mailed them to Burns in Los Angeles. But before Burns could tell his detectives to arrest him, JB and his handlers packed up and checked out of their cabin. For the moment, JB was gone. But Burns wasn't discouraged. Now he sent his agents to keep an eye on JJ McNamara instead. He had a hunch that sooner or later, one brother would lead him to the other. Then he could nab them both. By April 1911, six months after the bombing, the McNamara brothers felt like they were in the clear. After spending a few months laying low in Chicago, JB had gotten over his guilt. Now he and JJ were busy planning a new wave of bombings. They had no clue. Detective Burns had agents tracking their every move, and their days were numbered. On April 11, Burns men arrested J.B. mcNamara and one of his accomplices in the lobby of a Detroit hotel. Inside JB's suitcase, they found a dozen time bombs similar to the ones used in the Los Angeles Times bombing. After a few days in custody, JJ's accomplice broke down and agreed to testify against the brothers. Now Burns just needed to nail the mastermind JJ. Ten days later, on April 21, 1911 Byrnes detectives stormed the iron workers union headquarters during a board meeting in front of the union's shocked leadership. The detectives mark marched up to JJ and told him he was wanted by the police. For once, JJ didn't argue. He followed the men outside and stepped onto a heavily guarded train back to Los Angeles. By the time the McNamara brothers were booked into the LA County Jail, they were nationwide celebrities. Anti union newspapers derided them as bloodthirsty psychopaths. Pro union papers portrayed them as innocent victims of a smear campaign. All over the country, tens of thousands of union members marched in solidarity with the McNamaras and local unions in LA set up a vigil on the street outside their cell. The iron workers union paid $50,000 to hire Clarence Darrow, one of America's most celebrated labor lawyers, to defend the brothers. But none of that changed the truth. The McNamaras were guilty and prosecutors had an airtight case against them. There was forensic evidence, testimony from hundreds of witnesses, and a signed confession from one of JB's accomplices. Indianapolis police had also uncovered 92 pounds of dynamite in a safe at the ironworkers union headquarters, along alongside a pile of letters from JJ telling his brother which targets to bomb. After months of pre trial wrangling, Darrow convinced the McNamara brothers to accept a plea bargain to avoid the death penalty. On December 1, 1911, 14 months after the deadly bombing, J.J. and J.B. mcNamara both pleaded guilty. J.J. was sentenced to 15 years in prison for planning the attack. J.B. was given a life sentence for carrying out the bombing. J.B. died in San Quentin Prison in March 1941. His brother J.J. was released after nine years and rejoined the iron workers union as an organizer. However, he was fired a few years later for embezzling money from union accounts. JJ spent the rest of his life as a drifter and died two months after his younger brother in in May 1941. The brothers had dreamed of starting a revolution for workers rights. Instead, they killed dozens of innocent people and ruined their own lives in the process. Up next, another pair of brothers whose crimes made history. Over 40 years after the McNamara brothers went on trial for bombing the Los Angeles Times, another set of siblings embarked on a crime spree on the opposite side of the Atlantic. But while the McNamaras were motivated by the working man, these killer brothers were all about power, fame and cold hard cash. On the morning of May 8, 1968, identical twins Reggie and Ronnie Cray were fast asleep at their mom's house in London's East End. Although the brothers were 35 years old and owned multiple businesses around the city. They still often crashed at her place after a night out. But instead of sleeping off their hangovers, the twins were jolted awake by a squad of heavily armed police officers. Reggie and Ronnie barely knew what was happening when the cuffs were slapped on their wrists. After spending almost 15 years muscling their way into the upper rungs of British society, the Kray twins had become some of the most notorious gangsters in the city. They were feared, respected and idolized by criminals and movie stars alike. But now their days of terrorizing London were over because they'd made a crucial mistake. And now they were going to spend the rest of their lives behind bars. Identical twins Reggie and Ronnie Kray were born on October 24, 1933 in London's East End. At the time, thousands of people lived in densely packed tenements doing dangerous low wage work at nearby factories. The neighborhood was rife with poverty, disease and crime. Given the lack of resources and access to medical care, infant mortality rates were depressingly high for East End families. In the early 1930s, it was rare for children to survive into early adolescence. So Reggie and Ronnie's mother, Violet Cray, actually became somewhat of a celebrity in the neighborhood for having raised two, two healthy boys. While their father was often absent, Violet was devoted to her beloved sons. In her eyes, they could do no wrong. But not everyone agreed. Growing up, Reggie and Rani were average students, but excellent fighters. They often fought each other, but the instant any neighborhood kids tried to come between them, they'd join forces and deliver a a savage beating. By the time they were teenagers, Reggie and Ronnie were some of the most feared street fighters in the East End. Their grandfather tried to channel their violent energy into boxing lessons. And it worked. Soon the Kray twins were doing great on the youth boxing circuit, winning and placing in a few championship bouts. As they neared adulthood, it looked like the two of them might be able to make an honest living as professional boxers. But that changed when the military came calling. In 1952, when they were 18, Reggie and Ronnie were called up for two years of service in the British army, which was mandatory for all young men in the post war years. The twins were short tempered rule breakers who'd never been disciplined at home. Needless to say, they weren't a great fit for military life. After beating up their drill sergeant and walking off the base, the twins were put on trial for assault and desertion. They were quickly convicted and spent the remainder of their national service in different military prisons. After finishing their sentences, the army got rid of the Kray twins by giving them a dishonorable discharge in 1953. The boys didn't care, though. They were thrilled to be done with the military. But when they tried to get back into boxing, they realized no one wanted to sign a pair of violent criminals. Now that Reggie and Ronnie Cray had no shot at an honest career, they dedicated themselves to a life of crime. As it turned out, they were naturals. In 1954, when Reggie and Ronnie were 20 years old, they started managing a seedy East End pub called the Regal. The rundown bar was a hotspot for criminals who liked to get drunk and start fights. And while Reggie wasn't opposed to getting down and dirty, he also wanted the pub to succeed. So he got to work remodeling the place while Ronnie did security. Soon the fights had stopped and business was booming. Even so, most of their customers were still criminals planning their next big robbery. But now Reggie and Ronnie had worked out a deal to collect a percentage of whatever they were planning to steal. If you needed a safe place to stash some stolen goods, drugs or guns, you could count on Reggie and Ronnie to hide them for you at the Regal. For a price, of course. By 1956, two years after starting this little operation out of the Regal, the craze had expanded throughout the East End. Together, they supervised a crew of about a dozen hardened criminals. Criminals known as the Firm. Members of the Firm extorted local businesses, ran illegal gambling halls, fenced stolen goods and beat up anybody who got in their way. But no matter how busy their lives got, the Kray twins always had time for a good old fashioned bar fight. When three rival gang leaders challenged the Kray's growing power, Reggie and Ronnie paid them a visit at their pub. Ten minutes later, all three men were unconscious on the floor. And the Kray twins were the undisputed kings of the East End. The Twins, who'd grown up in an overcrowded tenement, were now making real money. Reggie, who was the more profit minded of the two, was always looking for ways to expand their operation. And that included investing in legitimate companies. But while he tried to run the firm like a businessman, Ronnie tried to run it like a Hollywood gangster. In the fall of 1956, when the Krays were 22, Ronnie nearly beat a man to death outside a pub. In the past, Reggie had bribed and intimidated witnesses. But this crime was too public to cover up. On November 5, 1956, Ronnie Kray was sentenced to three years in prison for assault. For the first time in their lives, the Kray twins had been separated. But while Reggie missed his brother, there was a silver lining. With Ronnie out of the picture, Reggie could finally run the firm the way he saw fit. Over the next few years, he bought multiple bars and nightclubs around the East End, which was becoming a trendy neighborhood full of artists and beatniks. By the late 1950s, a good amount of the firm's profits were coming from legitimate businesses. Reggie still ran protection rackets, managed illegal gambling operations and fenced stolen goods. But without Ronnie causing a scene wherever he went, Reggie was able to be more discreet and make inroads into polite society. He rented a nice apartment, drove a fancy American made car, and eventually started dating a girl named Francis. But while Reggie was flourishing on the outside, Ronnie was floundering on the inside. In early 1958, after two years at Wandsworth Prison, Ronnie learned his beloved aunt had died. He was already isolated and on edge after so long behind bars. And the news pushed him into a full on nervous breakdown. After attempting self harm, Ronnie was eventually transferred to a mental hospital for treatment. There, doctors diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia and certified him as criminally insane. This certification meant he could be held indefinitely. As much as Reggie liked running the firm by himself, he couldn't let his identical twin spend the rest of his life behind bars. So he put his business empire on hold to set his brother free. In June 1958, Reggie showed up at the hospital wearing a blue suit. Suit. Rani met him in the visiting room wearing an identical outfit. They chatted until the hospital staff announced that afternoon tea was ready in the kitchen. Patients weren't allowed to leave the visiting room, so Reggie went to go grab it. Twenty minutes later, the orderly on duty realized he'd never returned with the tea. He walked over to Ronnie to ask where his brother had gone. The prisoner pulled out his driver's license. It showed that he was Reggie. It turned out the twins had agreed to wear identical blue suits that day as part of a plan to set Ronnie free. It allowed Ronnie to walk straight out of the hospital where a member of the firm whisked him away. Hospital staff called the police who questioned Reggie for an hour. But because they didn't have any real proof to to show he'd helped Rani escape, they had to let him go. The Kray twins had pulled a fast one on the authorities and they were just getting started. As the swinging 60s got underway, 27 year old identical twins Reggie and Ronnie Cray were on top of the world. They'd risen from humble beginnings in the slums of Lond run a syndicate called the Firm. And they were very good at what they did. Recently, Reggie had helped his brother break out of a psychiatric hospital. But there was a small problem. By law, any mental patient who'd escaped from a hospital for more than six weeks had to be recertified as insane before being committed again. So Ronnie spent six weeks laying low at a friend's farm. Then Reggie tracked down the psychologist who'd evaluated Ronnie and bribed him to certify his brother as sane. After that, Ronnie only had to serve a few more months in prison to finish his original sentence. With that taken care of, the brothers were ready to get back to business. And they had big plans. In 1960, in fact, the Krays bought a new a new nightclub called Esmeralda's Barn, in an exclusive neighborhood near Buckingham Palace. With the craze at the helm, the club flourished, and so did the brothers. They each earned the equivalent of 2 million pounds a year in today's money. Soon their swanky nightclub was one of the hottest attractions in London. And part of the appeal was the chance to see and be seen with the Kray twins. Over the last few years, Reggie and Ronnie had become tabloid sensations for their criminal exploits in the East End. Now socialites, members of Parliament and celebrities like Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland and Sammy Davis Jr. Flocked to Esmeralda's to rub elbows with the Krays. The brothers even sat for a photo shoot with David Baillie, one of England's most famous photographers. But while they posed as members of polite society, the craze couldn't outrun their criminal roots. Although Ronnie had escaped from a mental hospital, it didn't change the fact that he suffered from untreated paranoid schizophrenia. And his heavy drug use and constant drinking didn't help. As the years went by, Ronnie grew increasingly paranoid and unpredictable. He slashed the face of a boxer who he thought insulted him. He hired goons to shoot a man who picked a fight with one of his friends. He openly fantasized about castrating his enemies. Soon, Reggie was spending more time trying to control his brother than running their business empire. It was frustrating, especially because he had other things on his mind. In 1965, at the age of 32, he married his girlfriend, Francis. But what should have been a blissful honeymoon period was interrupted by Ronnie. In March 1966, he got into an argument with a rival gangster named George Cornell. Ronnie took care of the disagreement by shooting Cornell in the head in front of a crowd of witnesses. Like always, Reggie ran to his brother's rescue. He threatened everyone who'd seen the murder into staying silent. But this time it wasn't enough, because the police were hot on their tail. After hearing rumors that one of the Krays had shot Cornell dead, Detectives from Scotland Yard opened an investigation into the Firm. But they knew the Krays were tough opponents. So Scotland Yard hunkered down for the long haul, watching and waiting for a break in the case. It came over a year later, in June 1967, when the craze were 33. That month, Reggie's wife Frances committed suicide. Reggie was inconsolable. Although Frances had struggled with her mental health for a long time, Reggie had always dreamed of them building a future together. With that hope gone, Reggie, who had already had always been the clear headed, responsible twin, followed his brother down a spiral of paranoia, drug abuse and violence. One night in a bar, Reggie drunkenly demanded another patron give him some money. When the man refused, Reggie shot him in the leg. Another night, Reggie got into an argument with one of his drinking buddies and slashed his face face with a knife. Sensing that the whole operation was about to fall apart, more members of the Firm started to drift away from the organization. But Ronnie never left his brother's side. In late 1967, he came up with a twisted way to cheer Reggie up. Ronnie had always found deep pleasure in murder. He figured his brother would too. And he had the perfect, perfect target in mind. Jack the Hat McVitty. Jack was an East End hitman who occasionally did freelance jobs for the Firm. Lately, though, he'd gotten on Ronnie's bad side. Ronnie had paid him £100 up front to kill one of the Firm's enemies, with another 400 to come after it was done. Although Jack didn't finish the job, he refused to give the upfront front money back. In Ronnie's eyes, this was a capital offense. So he and Reggie hatched a plan to make an example of Jack. On October 28, 1967, the craze invited Jack to a house party in northeast London. When Jack walked in, the only people there were Ronnie and Reggie Cray, who immediately attacked him. During the beating, Ronnie handed Reggie a knife, then held Jack still while Reggie stabbed him repeatedly. Afterward, they wrapped his body in chicken wire and dumped it into the English Channel. We don't know if killing Jack McVitty made Reggie feel any better, but it made the remaining members of the Firm feel a lot worse. Ronnie and Reggie had brutally murdered one of their longtime accomplices. Over £400. Criminals in the East End all followed one golden rule Never talk to the police. Now that Reggie and Ronnie had declared open season on one of their own, the rest of the firm decided it was time to break that rule. In the early morning hours of May 8, 1968, a squad of 60 armed Scotland Yard officers burst through the front door of Ronnie and Reggie's mother's house. They found the twins asleep upstairs. The Crays were handcuffed and carted off to jail. At their arraignment a few weeks later, the Kray twins sat in stunned silence as multiple witnesses took the stand. Their former friends detailed the twins activity over the past 15 years or so, including the murders of George Cornell and and Jack McVitty. The wall of silence that protected Reggie and Ronnie throughout their lives had finally crumbled. On March 8, 1969, a jury found 35 year old Reggie and Ronnie Cray guilty of the murders of George Cornell and Jack McVitty. The judge sentenced both of them to life in prison. Ronnie died of a heart attack in 1995. Reggie was allowed to attend the funeral in handcuffs. When he died five years later, his body was buried beside his brother's. The Kray twins had been reunited. Looking back on this week in crime history, we can see the power of brotherly love. But instead of using their bonds for good, they followed one another down a dark path of violence that landed all four men behind bars. Thanks so much. Thank you so much for listening. I'm Vanessa Richardson and this is Crime House the Show. The show is a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios. At Crime House, we want to express our gratitude to you, our community, for making this possible. Please support us by rating, reviewing and following Crime House the Show. Wherever you get your podcasts, your feedback truly matters. And for ad free and and early access to Crime House the Show plus exciting bonus content. Subscribe to Crime House plus on Apple Podcasts. We'll be back next Monday. The show is hosted by me, Vanessa Richardson, and is a Crime House original. Powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the Crime House the Show team. Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benedon, Natalie Pertzovsky, Laurie Marinelli, Sarah Camp, Truman Capps, Sheila Patterson and Michael Langsner. Thank you for listening. How can one tiny clue change everything? Kaylin Moore and Morgan Absher break it all down on their new show, Clues. New episodes drop every Wednesday. Just search Clues wherever you listen to podcasts.