The kingpins who actually run Britain’s drug commerce: Social media gangsters may look scary… however in actuality they’re scared of the ‘Mr Bigs’

With their social media videos flaunting luxury cars, diamond-encrusted Rolexes and guns, they are the repugnant (and very public) face of British gang crime.

But while they are the most obvious sign of the UK’s struggle with drug peddling gangsters, a far more powerful menace remains out of sight.

Away from the world of drill rap disses and postcode rivalries that characterises much of street-level drug dealing in the UK, experts warn there are far more serious criminals operating under the radar. 

Unlike their ‘foot soldier’ counterparts who tend to group into gangs named after their local area, these ‘Mr Bigs’ try to stay anonymous and live lives that – at first glance – seem utterly ordinary.

And not only do they make far greater profits than their street-level counterparts: they are often the most feared elements in the criminal hierarchy.  

A rare insight into this hidden world has emerged in recent years thanks to a string of major drug busts following the successful hacking of EncroChat, an encrypted messaging platform used by organised criminals.

This exposed a series of unlikely drug barons who had built vast criminal empires while masquerading as honest businessmen, with those brought to justice including a wealthy haulage boss, a cafe owner and a car dealer.

Gary Carroll, an expert in organised crime who runs the consultancy Claymore Advisory Group, described the split within Britain’s criminal underworld. 

‘The street gangs are all about bravado, YouTube fame and BBC radio music slots,’ he told MailOnline. 

‘But at the higher end of the market they don’t show off on social media or have slang titles – they’re too smart for that and know it draws attention.

‘That’s what EncroChat really showed us – it proved to us that guys bringing in loads of cocaine were just overweight white guys sitting in a house somewhere who like a pint in the pub.’ 

More than 1,200 criminals have been jailed thanks to the infiltration of EncroChat by Dutch and French officials, who then granted access to their counterparts at the UK’s National Crime Agency (NCA).

This threw light onto the secret world of high-level British drug kingpins and ability to present as honest men juggling family responsibilities with busy legitimate careers.  

They include the likes of Thomas Maher, an Irishman living in a suburban home in Warrington. 

An apparently thriving businessman with a haulage firm, many neighbours must have glanced in envy at his £200,000 of luxury cars and glitzy lifestyle. 

The reality was exposed when messages on EncroChat revealed how he had been running a criminal empire from his living room that oversaw the transport of £1.5million of cocaine from the Netherlands to Ireland. 

Another drug boss, Richard Weild, posed as the honest boss of Gas Works Motor Company in Liverpool – while taking to EncroChat under the name Blackable to boast that his secret drugs empire was turning over £30,000 a week.

Messages suggest he directed his associates to use Highways Maintenance vehicles and removal trucks to move drugs around without detection during lockdown – further proof of his ability to disguise his criminal activity. 

Weild, who told one contact he was ‘not putting myself out there’ and had an ‘easy life’ is now serving a 19-year prison sentence, while Maher received 14 years.

According to Dr David Holmes, a criminal psychologist, the ability of crime bosses to juggle outwardly ordinary lives with serious offending may be aided by a particular psychological profile. 

‘Generally speaking these are people with a certain level of psychopathic or schizoid traits – not high level or brutal, but the kind of individual who might just as easily have made money investing or as a very successful business person,’ he told MailOnline. 

‘These are people who may themselves have used drugs socially and been given the opportunity somewhere down the line to get involved in the finance side or import or export. 

‘It tends to be something that comes up as an option for making money quickly.  They are the similar sort of people who could become addicted to gambling.’ 

The kingpins’ ability to combine large-scale criminality with a life of apparent respectability could hardly contrast more with the brash, publicity-seeking behaviour of street gangs in cities like London.

They include the likes of Jake Fahri, who was sentenced to life with a minimum of 14 years in 2009 for murdering London schoolboy Jimmy Mizen by throwing a glass oven dish at him during a row at a bakery.

After being released from prison in June 2023, Fahri – now 35 – has been recalled to prison after allegedly boasting in rap videos about murdering Jimmy, including with the line: ‘Watched him melt like Ben and Jerry’s.’

Despite his criminal past, Fahri was showcased on BBC 1Xtra and lauded by DJ Theo Johnson as someone who ‘really stands out’.

Another London gang member, Isaac Donkoh, recently released a music video mocking Sir Keir Starmer after he was released from jail early for kidnapping and torturing a teenage boy.

The thug, who calls himself ‘Young Dizz’, was jailed in April 2019 for seizing the schoolboy a year earlier before posting footage of his horrific ordeal on Snapchat.

He was set free two weeks early in October under Labour’s early release scheme and posted a song on Christmas Day in which he said: ‘Keir Starmer let me out now he wants me back, got me scratching my head like make up your mind, mate.’

Equally attention seeking are groups like the Hellbanianz gang in Barking, East London, who flaunt their wealth sharing videos to social media of their flash sports cars, jewellery and wads of money.

The Albanian gangsters have even shared music videos showing armoured vehicles fitted with heavy machine guns parading around a housing estate. 

By contrast, higher level bosses stayed away from the limelight, saving their communication for EncroChat – which they assumed was uncrackable.

Among the criminals who have been imprisoned are two who only gave themselves away after sending photos of their dogs.

Frankie Sinclair, 35, from Cardiff, was jailed for life with a minimum of 18 years after plotting a revenge murder. 

A photo he sent to an associate showing his bulldog helped police prove he was linked to the plot.

And Danny Brown, 56, was brought down by a photograph of his pet that showed his girlfriend’s phone number on the collar. 

Brown, from Bromley, south-east London, and five associates were jailed for a total of 140 years over a plot to smuggle £45million of ecstasy.