Let the scene write itself is the prompt on Day 10 of the Everyday Inspirations course on Blogging University so let me do just that, except this time it’s not fiction, it’s mundane daily fact.
The neighbourhood I live in is gripped by the terror of an imminent bloodbath between rival drug gangs, the Kinahan and the Hutch families. For the past six months there have been almost daily accounts of tit for tat attacks. They act with impunity. The Prime Minister said in Parliament, he can do nothing, it’s a row between two families.
And that’s where my neighbourhood comes in. This is the territory of a Kinahan associate and gang boss in his own right, called Fat Freddy Thompson. His gang drinks in a pub, less than two minutes walk from where I sit here typing. All afternoon, there have been many patrolling police cars and the occasional armed police roadblocks. But, what is even more sinister, are the gangs of young men in fast, expensive saloon cars, speeding around the back roads of the neighbourhood, watching. Everything. Everyone.
When they bury their dead, they come in stretch limos and the deceased in a horse drawn carriage with feather plumed livery. The whole neighbourhood gets locked down so the hoods can bury their own.
Two days ago, a man, a member of the Hutch family, was shot dead, in broad daylight, by two hired killers. When their own car wouldn’t start, they escaped on foot. The entire scene was captured on cctv, the footage leaked.
Today, I took a walk around my neighbourhood. I saw many of the same people I always see. There was a group of homeless people, in a quiet corner, on a side street, drinking cans of cheap cider. The hostels, and there are a few in my neighbourhood, had served them breakfast and turned them out for the day. They were the lucky ones. Some of them slept in whatever alcoves they could find, wrapped in cardboard.
Then there were the shopkeepers, opening up; the jobless people, wandering around, aimlessly; the workers going to work, the students going home. But all that is normal in this neighbourhood. Today, there’s something different going on.
It all began on September 24, last year, in the Angel de Miraflores apartment complex, near Marbella on the Costa del Sol, Spain. On that day, a young man, Gary Hutch (34) was murdered by assassins. Hutch was a drug dealer and armed robber. But worst of all, a rival gang, with whom he was associated, believed he had informed to the Irish police and because of this, a large drug shipment was seized. So he was killed.
Gary’s days were numbered, long before this, but because he was the nephew of another well known Irish gangland figure,one Gerry Hutch aka The Monk, his safety was bought with a six figure ransom. Unfortunately, for Gary, there’s no honour among thieves, drug dealers and murderers. Several key members of the Spanish gang, led by convicted criminal, Christy Kinahan, were arrested in police swoops in 2010. The Kinahan gang believed Gary Hutch fingered them. He was shot.
Flash forward to February 5, 2016 and five men, three dressed in police style combats and carrying AK47 combat rifles, plus one other with a balaclava and another, dressed as a woman, launched an armed assault on a boxing championship weigh in at a north Dublin hotel and shot dead 34 year old David Byrne, a well known member of the Kinahan gang.
Since then, there hasn’t been so much as a tit for tat gang war but an all out attempt by the Kinahans and their associates, to wipe out the Hutch family and their associates. Five more people have been shot since then, one of them an innocent man, the victim of a mistaken identity. More members of the Hutch family have survived botched assassinations.
The last one to die was another member of the Hutch family, another nephew of Gerry Hutch, the one they call The Monk because he never involved himself in drugs, just masterminded a series of multi-million pound robberies for which he has never been convicted.
Now, everyone fears the wrath of Gerry Hutch will be felt. Hutch is not known for erratic or fatally spontaneous behaviour. Indeed, when his nephew Gary Hutch first brought this trouble on his family, he bought him out of trouble or so he thought. Since then he’s buried close and life long friends as well as family members. Now there is a general belief that a terrible reckoning is coming.
The Kinahan gang runs a multi-million Euro drug operation, spanning at least two continents and they have incalculable resources, along with an army of soldiers ready to get a dip in the golden pot and make their names. But to continue to do that, they’ve reached the point where they must destroy the Hutch gang. Similiarly, Gerry Hutch and his gang have their backs to the wall and must come out blazing or die where they stand.
So tell me, does this scene write itself?