1. The deal
Mervyn Hams
Mervyn Harris, author of 'The Dilly Boys', is a South African writer who has spent some years in Britain investigating various aspects of the social scene. This is the first of two articles he has written for The Spectator on narcotics and those who use and deal in them.
The long hours of keyed-up idleness interspersed with bouts of tense activity were drawing to an end. The word had come through. . . . The deal was on. A consignment of 50 lb of hashish worth nearly £10,000 on the wholesale market and about three times as much in the retail trade had arrived.
The word about the deal had come through to Hank a couple of days earlier from one of his 'contacts.' As a middleman in the world of drug dealers, it was Hank's job to get the network of distribution flowing. He had less than £200 of his own money to invest in the deal and the rest had to be raised from other dealers, who would sell the stuff in smaller quantities to the pot • smokers. Being illegal, the 'shit' (as hash, cannabis, pot or marijuana is commonly referred to in the world of drugs) has to be received and disposed of swiftly, quietly and with extreme caution. The danger arises mainly from the police but there is always the possibility of being sold bogus stuff such as boot polish or being 'ripped off' in other ways. This gives an added dimension of furtive excitement to Hank's dealing operations.
Hank is a drop-out from university where he began his career as a dealer. At first he had bought 'pot' for his own use and that of some of his friends but after leaving university had graduated to selling it on a wider scale. Those were the days — five or six years ago — when dealers in cannabis and some of the psychedelic drugs like LSD were still regarded as providing a service to the alternative community. It formed part of the ideology of Timothy Leary's religious crusade: revelation instead of indoctrination. With the High Priest of Pot now serving ten years in an American prison for possessing a minute quantity of cannabis, little of this ideology remains, although Hank and some other dealers occasionally look upon their activities in this light. The scene has become quite heavy over the past year and the risks involved" in dealing are greater than ever. And so are the profits. Inflation, coupled with increasing police seizures, has sent the price of pot soaring. An ounce of Moroccan hashish which cost £12 a short while ago is now selling at £18. The better quality Afghani, Nepalese or Kashmiri can fetch up to £30 per ounce. The price varies according to the amount purchased so that a pound in weight of Red Lebanese can be bought for £175 on the wholesale market. Cannabin oil is even more expensive at £5 a gramme but this is not as popular as the ordinary hashish.
The price spiral has also hit other black market drugs. Mescalin can cost up to £30 an ounce and cocaine nearly as much for a gramme. As in the 'twenties, cocaine is popular among the swingers of the upper classes. It is mainly such people who can regularly afford to snort a line of 'Charlie.' There may be some overlapping in dealings in these drugs, and pot and barbiturates or amphetamines, the latter being the poorer, young person's way of getting a buzz. Dealers themselves distinguish between 'soft' and 'hard' drugs such as heroin which is physiologically addictive and therefore harmful to the user.
Cannabis is smuggled into the country from the main sources of supply in Asia, North Africa and the Middle East. Boats loaded with hashish being chased along the coast are not uncommon, but lie beyond Hank's direct experience. The only time he had smuggled some 'shit,' hidden in nylon wrapping up his rectum, through Customs was when he had returned from holiday in Morocco a few weeks previously. The consignment for the present deal had come from Lebanon but Hank did not know how it had come into the country. The supplier of the present deal -was not one of Hank's regular contacts. He was put on to the dealer by a former girl friend who was to get £250 — £5 for every pound in weight sold — for making the introduction. The other dealer was a person who had a regular job and did not himself smoke pot. Hank had been to the rrip's house in North-West London a couple of days earlier to look at part of the consignment which had arrived and to fix a price. They had agreed on £160 per pound weight, and after paying the £5 introductory fee Hank would sell it to other dealers at E175 per pound weight.
Hank had made a flurry of telephone calls and some visits to other dealers. He had raised part of the money from two of Ahem and the others would be ready with their cash as soon as 'Hank took posses sion of the cannabis. The supplier had agreed to be paid most of the money immediately and the rest three hours later. It thus became a matter of juggling to pass on mon ey he was still to get. The arrange ments were for him to collect the hashish at the supplier's house and bring it back to his flat where the other dealers would be waiting. Already that morning a couple of the other dealers had phoned, standing ready with their cash, to find out if there were any developments and Dick had decided to come over and wait with Hank.
The two of them often worked together on deals. Dick was more ambitious and had more to show — two cars, a well-furnished flat with a good sound system and records — for his efforts than Hank. But lately Dick had begun to fret about his 'karma' running out and had been nervously pacing up and down the room. Just one more big deal, Dick had mumbled, and then he would get out of dealing but Hank had heard 'him say that several times before. With a conviction for possessing cannabis already on his record, Dick had prudently begun, to put money aside for his bail, a Possible fine, or to have something in the hank were he to be imprisoned, as seemed most likely were he to be busted.
Having received the message that the rest of the stuff had arrived and confirming the deal for that afternoon, Hank now swung into action. The money had already been counted in piles of E100 and was put into a briefcase. The phone rang and Hank himself made two calls. •Then they went to Dick's place to get his good scales for weighing the hashish. Simmering with suspense but looking casual, they went for a drink in a pub until it was time to collect the stuff.
The hashish came in slabs shaped like a discus and covered in a white casting. Several slabs were ran domly opened and then it was all weighed. This was done quietly and with little talk, all of them concen trating on what they were doing. The only haggling came when the supplier said he had hoped to re ceive all the money. In the fast moving world of the dealers, they don't really trust each other but so often have to rely on the other's good faith. At traffic lights on the way back to Hank's flat, a police patrol car parked alongside them but otherwise it was a cool ride. Soon after he and Dick had transferred the load from the car into the flat, the first dealer arrived to buy 15 lb of the drug. He poked a match stick in some of the slabs, nodded his head affirmatively, and watched as Hank carefully weighed the slabs on the scales. When Hank took a few crumbs off the last slabs he mea sured, the dealer let out a surreptitious moan but Hank informed him: "I'm hardly making anything out of this deal." Then Hank meticulously counted the money that was handed to him.
The other dealers were as keen as Hank and Dick to complete the deals and little time was wasted. A couple of joints were rolled and Jennifer, who was with one of the dealers, giggled nervously. Hank did not particularly like 'joy-riders' like her — people not directly connected with the deal and who went along for the fun and excitement. When there was a sudden knock on the door, one of the dealers ran to the window, saying he was ready to jump from the third floor flat if it were the police. But it was only a 'freak' seeking to buy some 'shit.' He was told to come back later. While the last deal was being completed the supplier telephoned and was told Hank was already on his way to his place.
Two hours later Hank gave the supplier the rest of his money. Part of Hank's own profits would come from selling in smaller quantities the 3 lb he had kept. At least half of it would be sold that night as he never liked to keep more than a pound in his flat at any one time for more than a few days. During the course of the evening Hank had a blow on the chillum Indian pipe and snorted a couple of lines of coke from the mirror. It was with a sense of satisfaction at having accomplished the deal without a hitch that Hank went to sleep. Early the next morning several teams of drug squad detectives with dogs trained to sniff out hashish raided homes in London. Hank's was not one of them. But two of the dealers he had made deals with the day before were caught with various quantities of hashish in their possession. Dick was one of those busted.
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