Low-level operator who cut out the middle men to become crime boss

Morag Yorston was fast approaching retirement.

As she turned 51 in 2016, the gran of two would have been acutely aware that she did not have a nest egg that would provide a comfortable lifestyle in her autumn years.

That quandary moved Yorston to make a decision that would change her life forever – and go on to make the unlikely transition into a life of crime.

Until then, she had led a seemingly ordinary lifestyle. She had worked in shops, factories and offices without managing to stick at any one job.

But beneath the veneer she was no angel.

Yorston – who also went by the name of McIntosh – picked up several convictions for road traffic offences and was jailed for two years in 2007 for fraud.

After leaving custody in 2008, having completed half of her sentence in jail, Yorston appeared to keep her nose clean for the next eight years.

But somewhere along the line, she fell into a crowd that introduced her to the murky world of drugs and dealing.

Observing the dealers around her in 2016, Yorston gradually picked up the tools of the trade within the local drugs scene. She paid careful attention and learned the ropes.

Investigators told us Yorston was a quick learner, ambitious and willing to take risks if the rewards were high enough.

Between the start of 2016 and late 2017, Yorston climbed the ranks of the heroin and cocaine underworld of Tayside.

Before too long, she was able to break free from the restraints of being a low-level operator.

How did she do it? She

simply cut out the middle men and went straight to the source.

Big-city gangsters know there is the risk of conflict with police and crime rivals, but they know the rewards are too big to ignore.

Herein lies the problem: How do you branch out while keeping your own hands clean?

Creating county lines offered a solution, and meant that others would do the dirty work.

Drugs dons despatch footmen from Liverpool to bring drugs to Tayside, returning with holdalls stuffed full of cash from past profits.

We have previously reported on children as young as 15 being forced to do this, staying in crack dens in between journeys.

Once faraway kingpins have earned the trust of a local-based crime boss, they let them take orders directly – and Yorston fitted that bill perfectly.

We spoke exclusively to two senior detectives responsible for putting her behind bars.

Detective Chief Inspector Scott Fotheringham said: “If someone is willing to put themselves forward through opportunities that arise and are willing to accept the risk, it can happen.

“If they volunteer to ensure couriers are sent on the road, that money is collected and that sub dealers are receiving what they are supposed to get from that consignment, that can happen very quickly.

“You’re probably talking about a two-year period, from the early part of 2016 to the middle of 2018, where Yorston goes from being the type of person carrying out low-level street deals to doing what she was doing towards the end.”

Initially, Yorston’s new business deal with her Merseyside partners was working well. By mid-2017, she had established a smooth operation with her Liverpool contacts.

She persuaded several of her more vulnerable customers to stash her drugs at their homes in exchange for freebies or discounts.

And she recruited “enforcers” – muscle to potentially launch violent attacks on any Tayside rivals or ensure drug debts were paid.

DCI Fotheringham said: “Yorston personally wasn’t an enforcer but what you find is most of the key people we are targeting won’t necessarily themselves carry that threat of violence.

“It’s usually people they are connected with or even a kind of invisible threat that exists and the mere mention of a name or where the individual comes from.”

Things were going well for Yorston – but it soon turned out she had picked the wrong time to become a major drug dealer.

“Yorston personally wasn’t an enforcer