You're at the centre of a massive LSD operation. 3 days ago you shifted 112,000 hits of acid. At least you think you have. But then they might still be in the house where you're staying. And you've woken to find the police standing by your bed...
In To Live Outside the Law Leaf Fielding describes what it was like to be caught by Operation Julie, Britain's biggest ever drugs bust, in which police seized 6 million trips' worth of LSD crystal with a then street value of £100 million. In the book, described by Howard Marks as 'f***ing good', Leaf tells of his highs and lows with LSD, the drug with which he wished to turn on the world...
Operation Julie
26 March 1977
I woke with a start. The light of a torch lanced the darkness and settled on my face. I raised my hand to shield my eyes and was pinned to the bed by an octopus, hands everywhere.
"Got him!" a voice yelled triumphantly.
"Give us some fucking light! Let's have a look at what we've caught."
The light came on. Through the spread fingers over my face, I could see I was being held down by several men.
"What are you doing?" This was my worst nightmare come true. I tried to turn my head to see what was happening to
Mary, but my hair was gripped tightly and I couldn't move an inch. "Let go!" I yelled.
"Shut up, cunt", someone hissed in my ear. "Right then, lads. Let's be having him."
They hauled me from the bed and stood me on my feet.
Only two were holding me now. The other three stood in front of me, bristling. One of them had drawn a gun. Mary was hiding below the duvet. A grim-looking woman stood at her side of the bed. The stink of sweat and adrenalin hung heavy in the air. The guy on the left, a big unshaven bruiser in a red sweater and jeans, stared hard at me.
Triumph and loathing struggled for the upper hand in his expression. Van Gogh's Sunflowers peeked incongruously over his shoulder. Without taking his eyes from mine, red sweater barked, "Get him his fucking pants and take him below!"
My arms were released so I could take the Y-fronts that were thrust at me. When I'd put them on, I was grabbed and frogmarched out of the room and down the stairs.
We were in Mid-Wales, spending the weekend with our friends, Russ and Jan. A dozen men in sweaters and jeans were engaged in ransacking their house. Several uniformed police stood around watching. A scruffy longhair with a gun guarded the door. I was pushed in front of an older man in a sheepskin coat who stood apart. He cautioned me and asked if I had anything to say.
I stood, fur-tongued and thick-headed. It was dark outside. I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. Just after five. We'd gone to bed three hours before, full of curry and wine. My head was pounding. I felt as though I might throw up at any moment. Suddenly I desperately needed a shit.
"I've got to go to the toilet."
"All right." The boss turned to my escort. "Watch him! Don't let him close the door. Don't take your eyes off him for one moment."
I lingered on the pan, trying to get my broken brain to work. Three days ago I'd laid a hundred and twelve thousand hits of LSD on Russ. He was supposed to be passing it straight on. Had he moved it all? Were we stuffed or might we have a chance to get clear?
"Hurry up! There's another one here needs the crapper."
I washed my hands and splashed cold water on my face, trying to wake myself up. Please let this be a nightmare, I implored the god of events. But it wasn't a dream, it had the stink of reality. As I left the toilet, Russ stumbled in. He looked as bad as I felt. I was handed my clothes and glasses and sent to join Mary, who was dressed, sitting on the sofa and looking at the floor.
"I'm so sorry, honey," I said, pulling on my trousers.
"Shut up!' my guard shouted. 'No talking."
Mary's long blonde hair was falling over her face, hiding her expression. I sat down and took her hand. Soon we were joined by Russ and Jan. Two uniformed police were detailed to watch us.
"What's going on, Megan?" Jan asked the policewoman.
"I can't say, Jan," Megan replied, in a strong Welsh accent. "Sorry love, but we're under instructions. You're not allowed to talk."
The searchers were swarming all over the house, emptying drawers and cupboards, dismantling anything that came apart. The absence of speech was eerie. Everything was being put into tagged plastic bags. My heart sank as I watched them methodically gut Russ's home.
"What are you doing?" Jan shouted across to the man in the sheepskin coat. She was close to hysteria. "You can't treat us like this! I'm expecting a baby..."
While Megan and the constable were trying to calm Jan down, I whispered to Russ.
"You clean?"
He nodded.
"Good. Say nothing. We'll be fine."
"Hey!" the armed hippie on the door screamed at our guards. "Stop those buggers talking. Keep them quiet or you'll be left out in the rain! Got it?"
"Yessir," muttered the local bobby.
I sat on the sofa, my arm around Mary's shoulder, feeling worse by the minute. Attempting to ward off the sense of hopelessness that was washing over me was like trying to stop the tide. As the plain-clothes men systematically took apart Russ and Jan's home, I felt my life disintegrating. The police ignored us completely. "We've got you", their silence shouted. "Now we're just collecting the evidence."
Jan started to cry. Megan began weeping too. The policewoman's tears completely undermined me; I wanted to join in.