Once upon a time in 1982

So I will take you back to 1982 when I had been out of prison some years, and had tried to go straight, but it just didn’t seem to work for me.  I just couldn’t hack it I suppose. Just before Christmas, an old friend of mine called to see me, and believe me this geezer was a gold plated villain, reputed among the criminal fraternity for his violence, and contacts in all sorts of places.

He had just come out of prison himself, and was already looking to start another ‘venture’.  The thing was, he had never really been involved in drugs except for the one time, when he had been nicked, which was the reason for his time in Her Majesties Hotel (HMP).

What was suggested to me, was to organise a drugs run.  He knew I had the contacts and the know how to get an operation like that under way, and he had the contacts to bring the drugs in. And more importantly, he trusted me because once we had been nicked together, and I went to prison, and he and his brother walked free.  So he knew I had the bottle, and that I could keep my mouth shut. It didn’t take me long to agree, and the seed was sown.

My job was to come up with an idea, and use my network of contacts to sort things out. Everything was hunky dory, especially as he had agreed to the one stipulation I had made, which was not to involve too many people, so we could keep things tight and within our control.

The drugs market is a very competitive one, and some very powerful people are involved – and by powerful people I mean police, customs, politicians, even governments. But I don’t suppose I am telling you something you don’t already know, or at least have some suspicion of, but there we have it, those were the terms of our agreement and that’s the only way I intended to do things.

But as is so often the case, it didn’t work out like that. Within the first few months, my friend had started dealing with what I call ‘the opposition’, another well-established firm of drugs barons and importers.

Money to invest in our venture, was the excuse, or reason I was given. And in some ways I could see the sense in that, and went along with it, with a bit of trepidation I might add, but assuring myself I would be ever alert.  And if something seemed in the least bit fishy, or I got any strange intuitive feelings, then I would speak my mind, and remind my friend of the original plan, and what we had agreed.

At first everything was going well, and there was plenty of good Ghanja (marijuana) to sell. As a matter of fact it was too good, and that was my first little inkling that this wasn’t as right as it should be, and I did mention this at the time to my partner in crime, but he just phoo phooed it, and laughed, saying ‘Look, it’s money isn’t it?  And the quicker we can raise the pot, the quicker we can get our own thing together.’  Which made sense, but I still didn’t like it.

This went on for almost a year, and we seemed to be forgetting why we had become involved with this other firm.  Even I had become used to the money, and had settled into

the idea that this wasn’t a bad way of earning a living.  There were always plenty of drugs to sell, and by drugs I mean hash and weed.  And my life was, certainly not boring.

There is a buzz in doing something you’re not supposed to be doing. “There is nothing as tempting as temptation.” I believe is the saying, and its true. When you are leading that kind of life, there is an excitement which fuels your soul and sends tingles through your body.

But then one day I arrived at the shop and was ushered down to the basement were my friend asked me if I wanted to shift 5kg of heroin.

Taking a deep breath I looked at him and said,’ Listen, that is the one thing you don’t want to get involved in.  That’s the pits mate, and believe me its big bird.  No little sentences attached to that one, and with our drugs records we would be looking at a minimum of seven years, and the possibility of double that, and I don’t like the narcotics at all. Come on, you have got kids yourself, and you wouldn’t want them on that stuff would you? ‘

‘No, your right.’ he replied.  ‘I don’t like the stuff either, it was just an offer I’ve been given, but I will tell them to stick it, I am just dealing the weed.’

But even as he uttered those words I knew that it just meant I wasnt having anything to do with it, but that he really didn’t give a toss, and was just going to carry on regardless. And the twist in the tail for him was that two of his four sons became addicts.

But that’s veering off the subject, and I really can’t afford myself that indulgence, so back to the heart of the matter.

At that time I had split with my wife and was sleeping on another friend’s sofa, and looking for a flat.  Life was confused, and if ever a saying was appropriate it is this, ‘I couldn’t see the wood for the trees’,  No problems money wise, and no lack of excitement in my life, but something in my mind just kept popping up and setting little alarm bells ringing.

Now make what you will of what I am about to write, but believe me or not, it is the truth, so help me God, and it is why I am writing this.  And as I am sure you will have noticed, up until this point I have not mentioned any names, or given any details of deals done, and there is a reason for that. It’s not that I am scared of the consequences of telling you these things, it’s just that these people are the little fish in all of this, and that may sound strange after me telling you that these people were, and maybe still are, major league players in the drugs business.  But the object of this exercise is not to grass a few drugs dealers and murderers up, because they are expendable, and would be replaced almost immediately. No, it’s to help you realise just what is going on, and how your lives are being manipulated by the very people you look up to. The very people you look to for guidance, and the very people you have always trusted to do the right thing,  although they are two faced, and don’t really give a damn about any one or anything that is outside their circle — the elite, the wealthy, the politicians, even some of our clergy.  And in saying the clergy, I mean the clergy of all denominations, shocking isn’t it! But, that’s the cold unadulterated truth of the matter. This evil, this sickness, is everywhere; cleverly disguised, I will admit that, but none the less, it is there.

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