Underworld: The inside story of Britain’s professional and organised crime by Duncan Campbell

There are two types of true crime writing about gangsters. First, there are the breathless glamourising puff pieces. These are often ghostwritten for celebrity gangsters - some former real criminals, others more wannabes - and one particular publishing house has created a veritable cottage industry in churning these out. Then there is the more serious side of true crime reporting. These tend to be written by serious journalists and steer clear of whitewashing their subject’s sins. Personally, I have no time for the first type and cannot abide by the glamourising “biographies” they produce. I am, however, very interested in the second type, the serious examination of the phenomenon, and Duncan Campbell, the veteran Guardian journalist who has spent much of his career writing about crime, is one of these.   

Campbell first plotted the contours of the criminal underworld for a book back in 1994.  This was a thorough piece of work for its time and this new book is a broad update, mapping the modern criminal underworld of Britain while giving context as to how it developed. It’s all here: starting from the racetrack gangs and smash and grabbers of the late 19th century, the narrative leads through the safecrackers who followed, the war years and crime in the blitz, the Krays and Richardsons, up to the current day. Along the way, there are chapters dedicated to particular subjects so that they might be examined in more depth: the vice rings of Soho, the big robberies such as Brinks Mat and the Hatten Garden heist, police corruption and hitmen. 

There are some revelations here but the book's real strength is the drawing together in one volume of information previously spread out in innumerable other tomes. This is a good survey of gangland Britain. That said, the book does have some shortcomings. Most glaringly is precisely its strength: its breadth. Unfortunately, that means that if a reader knows about a particular subject, this title is frustratingly lacking in depth. For example, one of my interests is police corruption. There are two titles that look at police corruption in the Metropolitan Police, Bent Coppers by Grahame McLagen and Untouchables by Michael Gillard and Laurie Flynn. Having read them both, I found the chapter in Campbell’s book on the subject unsatisfactory.

Then there are the conclusions he reaches. When writing a book like this the author must be under pressure to come up with something new to say and to reach definitive conclusions. I felt that in the latter that he overstretched himself somewhat. For example, in the final chapter, he argues that organised crime gangs eschew publicity and now try to be anonymous, and that marks a change from the Krays who courted the public gaze. But of course it was only the Krays who sought publicity, their rivals the Richardsons were far more camera shy (and indeed far more professional). Similarly, the Nash Family, another crime gang from the period, tried to avoid the limelight. Today, while most crime gangs try to avoid publicity, the Helbaniaz, a major Albanian crime gang, court publicity through YouTube. This leads me to another conclusion he makes which in my opinion doesn’t hold up. He says that crime figures are unlikely to write their memoirs. But then he points to Grime on YouTube where criminals boast and taunt each other and asks what that is if not a memoir. Well, quite. Similarly, when discussing the knife crime to plague the UK at the moment, he implies that the gangs of today are for the most part unlike the crime figures of the past. But are they really? According to the journalist Michael Gillard, David Hunt, the crime lord recently exposed by the Sunday Times, started his career in a street gang known as The Snipers. Similarly, not a few organised crime figures grew out of football hooliganism. Are they that different from the youth gangs of today? Of course, most of the teenagers involved in the postcode violence won’t go on to be crime lords, Campbell is right about that. But equally, most football hooligans didn't in the past. But some of them did and likewise, in thirty years' time, we’re likely to discover that a handful of the current crop has too.

A final issue the author has to contend with, one outside of his control, is his unfortunate timing. Just recently two excellent volumes were published that cast gangland in a new light. The first was Drug War by Peter Walsh. A landmark examination of Customs & Excise's pursuit of drug barons, it was full of revelations on the drug trade and infamous figures such as Mickey Greene. Then there is One Last Job by Tom  Pettifor and Nick Sommerlad. A biography of Brian Reader, one of the Hatten Garden gang (not one of those breathless glamourising biographies that I decry above, but a serious piece of journalism) its narrative was wider than that, examining East End gangland in some detail and thus demonstrating how a figure like Reader could come about. Finally, Michael Gillard’s landmark expose of David Hunt is due for publication in just a matter of days. 

So While Campbell’’s book is an overview and that is its strength, its also a weakness. Its target readership is likely to have read or are likely planning to read some of these other titles, and thus Underworld will suffer in comparison.

In conclusion, Underworld is a great book and is written a by a great writer. I would highly recommend it and hope that this review does not come across as too critical. But unfortunately, in a crowded field, it just can’t help but suffer against its competition. 

3 out of 5 stars