Doug spent his first week in Lincoln high-security prison, but once he’d completed an induction form and was able to place a tick in all the right boxes — no drugs, no violence, no previous offences — he was quickly transferred to an open prison.
At North Sea Camp, Doug, as I’ve already explained, opted to work in the library. The alternatives were the pig farm, the kitchen, the stores or cleaning out the lavatories. Doug quickly discovered that despite there being over four hundred residents in the prison, as librarian he was on to a cushy number. His income fell from £25,000 a week to £12.50, of which he spent £10 on phone cards so that he could keep in touch with his pregnant wife.
Doug rang Sally twice a week — you can only phone out when you’re in prison, no one can call you — to promise his wife repeatedly that once he was released, he would never get into trouble with the law again. Sally was reassured by this news.
In Doug’s absence, and despite being heavily pregnant, Sally was still holding down her job at the estate agent’s, and had even managed to hire out Doug’s lorry for the period of time he would be away. However, Doug wasn’t telling his wife the whole story. While other prisoners were being sent in Playboy, Readers’ Wives and the Sun, Doug was receiving Haulage Weekly and Exchange & Mart for his bedside reading.
He was browsing through Haulage Weekly when he found exactly what he was looking for: a second-hand, left-hand-drive, forty-ton, American Peterbilt lorry, which was being offered for sale at a knock-down price. Doug took a long time — but then he had a long time — considering the vehicle’s added extras. While he sat alone in the library, he began to draw diagrams on the back of the magazine. He then used a ruler to measure the exact size of a box of Marlboro. He realized that the cash return might be smaller this time, but at least he wouldn’t be caught.
Among the problems of earning £25,000 a week, and not having to pay tax, is that after being released from prison you are expected to settle for a job that only offers you £25,000 a year before tax; a common enough dilemma for most criminals, especially drug dealers.
With less than a month of his sentence to serve, Doug phoned his wife and asked her to sell his top-of-the-range Mercedes truck, in part exchange for the massive second-hand eighteen-wheel Peterbilt lorry that he’d seen advertised in Haulage Weekly.
When Sally first saw the truck, she couldn’t understand why her husband wanted to exchange his magnificent vehicle for such a monstrosity She accepted his explanation that he would be able to drive from Sleaford to Marseilles without having to stop for refuelling.
‘But it’s a left-hand drive.’
‘Don’t forget,’ Doug reminded her, ‘the longest section of the journey is from Calais to Marseilles.’
Doug turned out to be a model prisoner, so ended up serving only half of his four-year sentence.
On the day of his release, his wife and eighteen-month-old daughter Kelly were waiting for him at the prison gates. Sally drove them back to Sleaford in her old Vauxhall. On arrival, Doug was pleased to find the second-hand pantechnicon parked in the field next to their little cottage.
‘But why haven’t you sold my old Merc?’ he asked.
‘Haven’t had a decent offer,’ Sally admitted, ‘so I hired it out for another year. At least that way it’s showing us a small return.’ Doug nodded. He was pleased to find that both vehicles were spotless, and after an inspection of the engines, discovered they were also in good nick.
Doug went back to work the following morning. He repeatedly assured Sally that he would never make the same mistake twice. He filled up his lorry with sprouts and peas from a local farmer, before setting out on his journey to Marseilles. He then returned to England with a full load of bananas. A suspicious, recently promoted Mark Cainen regularly pulled Doug over so that he could carry out a spot-check to find out what he was bringing back from Marseilles. But however many crates he prised open, they were always filled with bananas. The officer remained unconvinced, but couldn’t work out what Doug was up to.
‘Give me a break,’ said Doug, when Mr Cainen pulled him over yet again in Dover. ‘Can’t you see that I’ve turned over a new leaf?’ The customs officer didn’t give him a break because he was convinced it was a tobacco leaf, even if he couldn’t prove it.
Doug’s new system was working like a dream, and although he was now only clearing £10,000 a week, at least this time he couldn’t be caught. Sally kept all the books up to date for both lorries so that Doug’s tax returns were always filled in correctly and paid on time, and any new EU regulations were complied with. However, Doug didn’t brief his wife on the details of his new untaxed benefit scheme.
One Thursday afternoon, just after Doug had cleared customs in Dover, he drove into the nearest petrol station to refuel before continuing his journey north to Sleaford. An Audi followed him onto the forecourt, and the driver began to curse about how long he was going to have to wait before the massive pantechnicon would be filled up. To his surprise, the lorry driver only took a couple of minutes before he replaced the nozzle in its holder. As Doug drove out onto the road, the car behind moved up to take his place. When Mr Cainen saw the name on the side of the lorry, his curiosity was aroused. He checked the pump, to find that Doug had only spent £33. He stared at the massive eighteen-wheeler as it trundled off down the highway, aware that with that amount of petrol Doug could only hope to cover a few more miles before he would have to fill up again.
It took Mr Cainen only a few minutes to catch up with Doug’s truck. He then followed the lorry at a safe distance for the next twenty miles before Doug pulled into another petrol station. Once Doug was back on the road a few minutes later, Mr Cainen checked the pump — £34 — only enough to cover another twenty miles. As Doug continued on his journey to Sleaford, the officer returned to Dover with a smile on his face.
When Doug was driving back from Marseilles the following week, he showed no concern when Mr Cainen asked him to pull over and park his lorry in the customs shed. He knew that every crate on board was, as the manifest stated, full of bananas. However, the customs officer didn’t ask Doug to unlock the back door of the truck. He simply walked around the outside of the vehicle clutching a spanner as if it were a tuning fork while he tapped the massive fuel tanks. The officer was not surprised that the eighth tank rang out with a completely different timbre to the other seven. Doug sat around for hours while customs mechanics removed all eight fuel tanks from both sides of the lorry. Only one was half full of diesel, while the other seven contained over £100,000 worth of cigarettes.
On this occasion the judge was less lenient, and Doug was sent down for six years, even after his barrister pleaded that a second child was on the way.
Sally was horrified to discover that Doug had broken his word, and sceptical when he promised her never, ever, again. The moment her husband was locked up, she rented out the second vehicle and returned to her job as an estate agent.
A year later Sally was able to declare an increased income of just over £3,000, on top of her earnings as an estate agent.
Sally’s accountant advised her to buy the field next door to the cottage, where the lorries were always parked at night, as she could claim it against tax. ‘A carpark,’ he explained, ‘would be a legitimate business expense.’
As Doug had just begun a six-year sentence and was back to earning £12.50 a week as the prison librarian, he was hardly in a position to offer an opinion. However, even he was impressed when, the following year, Sally declared an income of £37,000, which included her added sales bonuses. This time, the accountant advised her to purchase a third lorry.