Monthly Archives: January 2005

I’m sure you’ve all heard of Dublin’s top criminals. The General, Martin Cahill, plagued police with his nefarious deeds and Mickey Mouse underpants for years, while The Viper, Martin Foley, is currently trying to take legal action against The Sunday World for being a badly printed, unreadable rag.

But what about the lads who never made it? The ones who tried to stake their place in Dublin’s underworld and failed. Let me fill you in…

The Swan: Nicknamed because of his inordinately long neck this crook made a good start to his career selling cannabis and ecstasy around Dublin clubs in the mid-90s. It all went wrong when he decided to expand into the drugs manufacturing businesses and when Gardai intercepted a consignment of 60,000 poppies from Afghanistan his story that they were for English people in remembrance of World War II couldn’t save him from 14 years inside.

The Dolphin: So named because of his high-pitched voice he worked the mean streets of Drumcondra gaining a reputation as a hard man after he allegedly bit a rival’s hand off. The legend has it that after a fight over territory the rival was tied up in a warehouse and The Dolphin spent 45 minutes gnawing through bone and flesh to remove the hand in question. He demanded protection from local shopkeepers but mysteriously went missing after going into his local Sinn Fein office to demand tribute.

The Adder: He was debt collector and loan shark with an uncanny ability to know how much anyone owed him at any time. He could even calculate the compound interest his loans would generate for up to 30 years in advance in seconds. He managed to stay clear of the Gardai by running a kebab shop on Dorset Street but he was merciless when it came to getting his money. Three days late with a payment? You got a beating. A week late and you were going to lose a finger or two? Two weeks late meant one of your limbs would go to feed his pet piranha (which he kept in a giant tank in his Castle Street apartment) and he’d behead anyone who was more than three weeks late with a payment.

Although this was designed to put fear and terror into people so they wouldn’t default it became obvious that people who had been beaten to shite and had limbs removed in non-surgical situations found it very difficult to raise the necessary funds to pay The Adder back. When his last customer was dead he went out of business and now drives a taxi.

The Rhino: His real name was Larry Ryan so it’d be fair enough if you thought his nickname came from a clever play on his surname but that’s not it. Born with an unfortunate afflication which left him with a massive erection 24 hours a day he was known as The Rhino because of his big horn. He had links to Italians who owned a series of nightclubs on Leeson Street and The Rhino was their front. He’d supervise the delivery of vast consignments of drugs and olive oil until he decided to go into business for himself. He was overheard saying “Those wop cunts can kiss my rock hard langer”. Unfortunately for him the person who heard him was the head of the notorious Fusciardi crime family who ensured The Rhino’s feet were encased in concrete as hard as his John Thomas and fucked him into The Liffey just outside the Point Depot. How do I know this? Let’s just say I worked in the concrete business and I was the one who concreted his feet.

The West Highland White Terrier: Quite patently doomed from the start because of his name this Scottish albino arrived in Dublin in the late 80s and set about burlging houses then fencing the goods back to Scotland where they couldn’t be traced. His hallmark was robbing a place then leaving one of those white dog poos that you just don’t see any more on the victim’s carpet. When the white dog poo finally ran out (where did those dogs go anyway?) he’d leave a stool of his own and colour it white with Tippex. Sadly this coincided with the birth of DNA testing and The West Highland White Terrier was caught, almost literally, with his pants down sporting a turtle’s tail.

There are more but I think I’ll leave those for another day.