The dark tentacles of organised crime gangs reach deep through society... I know because they tried to kill me

WHEN journalist Peter de Vries was shot dead in Amsterdam last month, commentators warned of the Netherlands becoming a ‘narco state’ – with powerful drugs gangs corrupting the rule of law.

Similar ominous noises about Malta descending into a ‘Mafia state’ followed the car bombing of journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia four years ago.

The cold-blooded assassinations of two brave investigative reporters in EU democracies made headlines worldwide.

Ms Caruana Galizia’s murder exposed the sunshine island’s dark underbelly of a venal political establishment corrupted by wealthy and well-connected organised criminals.

In the Netherlands – a €3billiona-year global narcotics hub – the finger of suspicion was pointed at Ridouan Taghi, who is currently on trial for multiple murders.

If anyone in Scotland is inclined to think that such heinous acts couldn’t happen here, then think again. And I should know.

As a journalist who spent years exposing domestic drug-peddling parasites, I became the target of a terrifying attempt on my life.

On the orders of a major criminal, career thug William ‘Basil’ Burns disguised himself as a postman two days before Christmas 2015.

When I answered my front door, he hurled sulphuric acid into my face and tried to stab me. Extreme good fortune prevented permanent or fatal injury and my attacker is still behind bars.

I rarely dwell on what could have been, but it’s chilling to think how close I came to suffering the same fate as Mr de Vries and Ms Caruana Galizia.

My experience became the catalyst for a career change, from journalism to politics.

A significant motivation is my belief that the threat of organised crime is neither understood nor taken anywhere near seriously enough. It’s all very well reporting it, but how about trying to do something about it?

As Scotland’s record drugs deaths spiral further upwards, so do the profits of the pernicious gangs who accrue vast fortunes from the consequent misery and grief.

In my maiden speech, after becoming a Scottish Conservative MSP in May, I said: ‘I spent almost 30 years hidden from view because of the real threat from organised crime. Those gangs have become obscenely wealthy and immensely powerful, and their drugs kill record numbers of our people.’

TODAY’S startling revelations in this newspaper lay bare how deep the tentacles of organised crime reach into our civic institutions. Scotland’s fattened public sector – which often appears to lack responsible stewardship of taxpayers’ money – offers rich pickings.

Up to 70 gangs are suspected of latching on to public bodies, including local councils and our NHS.

This honeypot helps to launder bags of grubby £20 notes from the street but also feeds apparently clean businesses, thereby providing a veneer of legitimacy for the benefit of suburban neighbours.

According to the Serious Organised Crime Taskforce, 72 per cent of the most significant gangs are in the West of Scotland, the area I represent.

They are hiding in plain sight. We know who they are.

They regard paying tax as a mug’s game, for the little people. They rack up eye-watering debts, then walk away knowing there is no comeback.

While Covid wreaks havoc on our nation’s health and economy, they see it as another opportunity to exploit the public purse.

The gangs who turned South Glasgow postcodes into the centre of a multi-billion pound VAT fraud epidemic now steal Covid business support loans and grants on an industrial scale.

Dutch police union boss Jan Struijs warns of a ‘parallel economy’, telling the BBC: ‘Lawyers, mayors, police officers – we’ve all been threatened by organised crime. All the alarms have been sounding but the politicians have been naive. Now it’s rotting the concrete of our society.’

Scotland’s own ‘parallel economy’ is burgeoning. Some prominent businesses are founded upon and greased by drugs money. As the old saying goes, ‘behind every great fortune lies a great crime’.

I can reel off the names of which Glasgow private schools educate organised criminals’ offspring – their life opportunities enhanced at the expense of other people’s children killed by drugs.

Our national sport has become another target as criminals masquerading as agents groom young footballers to siphon off their earnings.

Police Scotland and the Old Firm clubs issued a slick video warning about these leeches just weeks before a firebomb attack on the home of then Celtic chief executive Peter Lawwell.

MUCH of the laundered money ends up in bricks and mortar. The Edinburgh and Glasgow flats markets are on fire. Estate agents tell me much of the heat is due to dirty money.

A self-employed friend, who works all hours to keep himself afloat, has abandoned hope of buying a modest flat for his children, so distorted has the market become.

By its opaque nature, the eyewatering fortunes of organised crime is hard to truly quantify – but evidence of its capacity for depraved violence and societal corruption has long been right in front of us.

Make no mistake, the attack on me was not some kind of blip.

Ten weeks ago, the family home of hard-working Scottish Conservative councillor Graeme Campbell was destroyed in a fire attack.

This thoroughly decent man escaped with his life but has now been forced to abandon his beloved Strathaven community and intends to quit politics.

The identity of the apparently untouchable thug allegedly behind this craven attack is

Scotland’s fattened public sector offers rich pickings

common knowledge. Councillor Campbell’s ordeal should shame Scotland. But from First Minister Nicola Sturgeon down, he has heard little more than platitudes.

In recent years we have seen a lawyer targeted in a knife attack outside the country’s busiest court; gunfire directed at the home of a prison officer; and a crime magazine’s owner and distribution drivers subject of multiple attacks.

We have also seen criminals shot at the gates of primary schools, one gunned down in a supermarket car park and another outside his home in Edinburgh’s New Town. As seen in Malta and the Netherlands, this is what happens when an emboldened criminal class becomes high on its own supply of power.

Much of the gun violence is tied to a 20-year drugs war that began between the Daniel and Lyons families but has now grown so big that other gangs are expected to declare which side they are on.

This Scottish turf war has gone global. The Lyons have forged links to Ireland’s Kinahan drugs cartel and Dutch crime boss Taghi. On Thursday, I visited Edinburgh’s Saughton prison along with fellow members of the Scottish parliament’s criminal justice committee.

Senior staff were refreshingly candid, revealing that 600 inmates in Scotland are known organised crime gang members.

One officer ruefully recalled how cons used to leave disputes at the gates, serving their time in truce. No longer. Some stunning recent successes by Police Scotland, including the jailing of senior gang members, has led to a spike in extreme violence behind bars.

But all the evidence suggests the war on drugs has failed to sufficiently curtail organised crime.

That is no criticism of the brave and tenacious men and women on the front line. While it is right for our drug deaths emergency to be primarily treated as a public health issue, we cannot afford to allow these criminals to flourish.

There is plenty that can be done – from fixing feeble proceeds of crime laws which were supposed to keep criminals awake at night, to finally taking robust action against the white-collar enablers inside law and accountancy firms.

Unless we want to see global headlines about Scotland the narco state, we must start to take organised crime as seriously as the people involved in it.

We cannot afford to allow these criminals to flourish