The Acid King | Drop Out | 3

Britain’s acid revolution is growing fast. But when Detective Dick Lee finally gets the resources he’s been fighting for, a tiny Welsh village becomes the centre of a national manhunt. Do you have a suggestion for a scandal you would like us to cover? Or perhaps you have a question you would like to ask our hosts? Email us at [email protected] See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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• 0:00Alice Levine?

  Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of British Scandal ad-free right now. Join Audible today by downloading the Audible app.

• 0:07Matt Forde?

  Just a warning, this episode features drugs and lots of strong language.

• 0:12Alice Levine?

  And regrettably hilarious content that will probably make you want to see us live in Sheffield on Sunday the 5th of July. Crosswires.live for tickets. More info in the show notes if you're affected by this issue. Oh, whoa, Matt, have you been here all night?

• 0:27Matt Forde?

  Oh, man, I'm blissed out. You know, when you walked in then, there was like a kaleidoscope of colours behind you. So vivid.

• 0:36Alice Levine?

  Okay, do you think we should just do some of the first pages then?

• 0:41Matt Forde?

  Whoa. When you spoke then, it was like all these little doves came out of your mouth, but they were all like luminous yellow. You need to try one of those Skittles on that bowl. They're so intense. It's like so many flavours, but they're in your mind.

• 0:59Alice Levine?

  They're not Skittles, Matt. They're a prop for this series, which is about LSD.

• 1:05Matt Forde?

  Well, whatever they are, they taste good.

• 1:07Alice Levine?

  I'm really glad you're having a good high, but I'd just say like sometimes the low can come on kind of quickly.

• 1:14Matt Forde?

  You know, when you feel this high, there's not going to be a low.

• 1:19Alice Levine?

  This is quite a long script, 41 pages actually.

• 1:22Matt Forde?

  Oh, my God, Alice, I stared into the abyss. We're all going to die. Life is meaningless. Life is just one big illusion. We're just alone in a black hole of death.

• 1:33Alice Levine?

  Okay, that came on quicker than I thought.

• 1:40Matt Forde?

  March 1977, Zurich Airport. Christine Bott clutches her bag tight to her chest and strides through the broad, brutalist expanse of the arrivals terminal.

• 1:54Matt Forde?

  She takes in the raw concrete forms and hard geometric shapes of the transit hub, her pulse keeping pace with her step. She's not usually a nervous traveller, but tonight's trip is different. Around her, a sea of passengers stream towards a windowless space, dominated by low-exposed concrete pillars and two border control desks. Glancing up, she spies a bright, backlit sign for the exit. She wipes a bead of sweat from her hairline, just eighty yards until she's out. A square-headed man with large-wire-framed glasses thrusts out his hand. Iren pas, Peter.

• 2:37Matt Forde?

  A smile cracks unevenly across Christine's face as she reaches into her bag for her papers, feeling her hand brush against large bundles of notes, profits of Richard's acid empire in cash. She slips out her passport, her heart hammering as she hands it over. She adjusts her blazer, unused to the feel of such fitted clothes, as the guard purses his lips, looks again at her photo, then lifts his stamp.

• 3:08Matt Forde?

  It hovers over the empty page for an eternity, then he places it back down. He's squinting at something. Christine swallows as he picks up her ticket, inspecting one particular detail, frowning.

• 3:25Alice Levine?

  New fringe?

• 3:28Matt Forde?

  You'll have last word, yeah? But this must be your daughter?

• 3:33Matt Forde?

  Oh, we have a hottie here. You must declare yourself.

• 3:37Alice Levine?

  Body alert.

• 3:41Matt Forde?

  One way. The bag slips from her shoulder, her free arm shoots to clasp its strap shut.

• 3:49Matt Forde?

  I intend to travel for a few days. I'm returning home via ferry. The guard's eyes narrow.

• 3:57Matt Forde?

  Therefrom? She curses Richard for suggesting such a convoluted route home. Amsterdam? She sees his eyebrow flicker, but keeps his gaze held.

• 4:10Matt Forde?

  Next. Christine almost faints with relief. Stuffing her passport back into the bag, she turns to the exit, fixes her sight on the doors, and forces herself not to run. In an hour, this will all be over. The money will be in a Swiss safety deposit box, far from the grasping hands of the British police. She and Richard will be protected, and so will the revolution.

• 4:39Matt Forde?

  But hoisting the heavy bag back onto her shoulder, her body tenses as a booming voice reverberates around the hall. Enschuldigen Sie meine Dame. She lowers her head, picks up her pace. But the voice gets closer. Excuse me, Frau Bott. A hand grasps her forearm, freezing her to the spot. For a moment, she considers bolting, slipping this guard's grip, running for the exit and for the dark night beyond. Because she knows if she's made to talk, one wrong word is all it will take to bring everything and everyone crashing to the ground.

• 5:27Speaker 02

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• 6:19Matt Forde?

  I'm Matt Ford.

• 6:20Alice Levine?

  And I'm Alice Levine.

• 6:21Matt Forde?

  And this is British Scandal, an Audible original.

• 6:33Matt Forde?

  Alice, last episode we met a character that features in 99% of British scandals, a member of the British police force. What do you make of Inspector Dick Lee?

• 6:43Alice Levine?

  First, we have to acknowledge incredible name. It still has me smirking. He doesn't sound, actually, like all of the other police officers that so regularly pop up. He's northern, that's actually about the only difference. He seems trad, but he's actually quite rad because he's using undercover tactics, which the police weren't really doing at the time. And, okay, initially, not great with that, not being the most subtle, but he's finding his feet.

• 7:08Matt Forde?

  Yes, and they're having to use these unusual tactics because they've got a pretty unusual adversary.

• 7:14Alice Levine?

  Yes, it's yin and yang. So we've got the LSD-worshipping chemist and the dogged inspector, Dick and Richard. But Richard Kemp is a man with a mission. He is making most of Britain's LSD from a veg patch, but coming at it not from a kind of criminal mastermind, drugs kingpin angle, coming at it from a philosophical point of view.

• 7:35Matt Forde?

  Oh, yes, he's very much a revolutionary, and so is, accidentally, Dick Lee, because his colleagues are still using traditional police methods. But he is having to really innovate with undercover officers, forces working together across the country, which they'd never done before, and the use of modern surveillance. So he's basically inventing modern drug policing. So can Dick catch Richard before the whole thing spirals even further? Let's find out. This is episode three, Dropout. Three months earlier, December 1976, Westminster. Dick ducks under the grand soot-stained stone archway of Whitehall and into the echoing entrance hall of the Home Office.

• 8:18Matt Forde?

  He takes in the vaulted ceilings, the austere marble columns, and fixes his eyes on the imposing staircase when an anxious civil servant swoops to his side.

• 8:30Matt Forde?

  Sir, this way please. He's led away from the staircase and instead along a dark musty corridor. He comes to a standstill at a large unmarked door. This never took place. Understood? Dick steps inside and is hit by the rich smell of polished teak. He stares up at the fifteen foot ceiling, down the regal velvet drapes, then across the parquet floor to the desk at the end.

• 9:02Matt Forde?

  When your secret surveillance task force was approved, it was granted on the understanding it would produce results. Dick bristles. With respect, sir, I think that— Reece bangs his fist on the desk. I know for a fact you have sufficient evidence to make an arrest. A file comes flying over the desk. Because you submitted it to me yourself, asking for an extension. Dick recognizes it immediately. The toxicology reports. Showing the two animals he found at Plasclisin, the frog and the mole, both died of acute LSD poisoning. Proof that Kemp used that old manor house as his lab.

• 9:44Alice Levine?

  Of course, under the floorboards at the new safe house that they went to. Can I just say, the frog and the mole, I mean, spin-off for them, obsessed.

• 9:51Matt Forde?

  It's like the owl and the pussycat meets trainspotting.

• 9:55Matt Forde?

  We'll do a fringe run and see how it goes. So why is this man not already in custody? Dick grits his teeth. Because we're not ready yet. Reece snorts in disdain, but Dick carries on. If we arrest him now, the network disappears underground. They'll get another chemist and we're back to square one. He leans forward. But if we track how Kemp is moving his acid across Britain, around Europe, identify his partners— Reece stares in astonishment. You propose to let him continue? Dick stares himself. He knows what he's about to ask for will cause Reece to blow a gasket, but there's no other option.

• 10:37Matt Forde?

  The directions that led us to Plasclisin were found by Kemp's phone. Someone called them through, and I need to know who. He swallows, squeezes his knuckles. I need a wiretap. Detective Lee, the British government does not recognize the existence of such devices.

• 10:59Alice Levine?

  I guess I should assume that he would say that, but it's extraordinary really, because we've seen so much, in fiction at least, about the government's toolkit for surveillance. The idea that he'd be like, "Nope, sorry, nothing we can do", nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

• 11:13Matt Forde?

  This is so British, and so of its time. I mean, we only officially admitted that MI5 existed in 1989.

• 11:19Alice Levine?

  Ridiculous.

• 11:20Matt Forde?

  And everyone knew it, but this is a classic British fudge of like, "Let it happen, pretend it's not happening", and use phrases like "I do not recognise the existence of", rather than saying "Don't do it".

• 11:36Matt Forde?

  He holds the Home Secretary's glare. "I realise that, but I still need one." Dick knows the official line. He also knows that Kemp's phone is the key to cracking this case. "I need to dismantle Kemp's entire network, sir, once and for all." Because if Dick can uncover who Kemp is dealing with, he'll be able to trace where every dot of that acid ends up, and make sure it's the last batch he ever makes. He won't just bring down the chemist, he'll bring down the entire empire. And he's not leaving this room until the Home Secretary agrees to change the police force forever.

• 12:20Matt Forde?

  Six weeks later, Chelsea. Dick sits in a cramped cubicle next to DC Pritchard, the hum and whir of machinery thick in the air. He's temporarily relocated to one of GCHQ's secret surveillance buildings. His application for a phone tap has finally been authorised. A wire is now active on Kemp's home line. But Dick's been cooped up here for days, and so far, heard nothing from it. He glances around at the towering columns of whirring computers, along rows of agents, all wired into state-of-the-art spyware, filled with technicians sat at desks groaning with gadgets.

• 13:03Matt Forde?

  Just as he's starting to fear that the wire tap isn't working, a light on the unit flashes. DC Pritchard rockets up in his seat, flicks on the recorder. Dick slips on his headphones, opens his notepad, his nerves tingling.

• 13:21Matt Forde?

  Hello?

• 13:23Matt Forde?

  Hey, it's me. How's things? Good. Quiet. Haven't seen a birdwatcher in weeks. Dick smirks to himself. He's pulled all his men from Richard's cottage.

• 13:35Alice Levine?

  And of course, this was the ingenious plan to place thirty police officers undercover as birdwatchers in a teeny, tiny village with a very small population, which, shockingly, raised suspicions.

• 13:48Matt Forde?

  Yes, tripling the population with undercover cops, armed with binoculars, was not the subtle plan he thought it was. How are our friends in Berlin? Oh, you know, the usual anarchist bullshit. Endless factional infighting. Everyone accusing everyone else of selling out the revolution, but worst case, we end up with two sets of militant pinkos to sell to, so... Pritchard turns. German anarchists? Solomon's voice cuts off. Whoa, what was that? Dick's arm locks. Yeah, what is that? It's the wiretap, the occasionally click. Dick's eyes widen. A cold fear gripping him.

• 14:33Matt Forde?

  And I thought I... Never mind. Dick exhales, only now realising he'd stopped breathing. So, what are this week's orders? You got a pen? Two hundred and fifty-two. Zero six seven. Three. Eight zero six. Wait. You don't hear that? Dick nudges Pritchard. Kill it. Pritchard frowns. Kill it, now! Dick dives for the switch himself. Shuts off the intercept. What the fuck? They were just getting going! If they figure out we're listening, that's them off the phones for good. The whole operation, up in smoke.

• 15:17Matt Forde?

  He runs a hand over his face and looks down at his notes. Scals. They barely got anything usable. Just some cryptic code. He taps his pen against his cheek. Play the tape back.

• 15:34Matt Forde?

  Fifty-two, zero, six, seven.

• 15:38Matt Forde?

  Fifty-two, not five-two. Dick's eyes flick to Pritchard, then widen. He flings his headphones to the floor, then darts from the room. Outside, he tears open the door of his Ford Cortina. He yanks the ordinate survey map from his glove compartment.

• 15:56Alice Levine?

  Oh god, he's clever!

• 15:58Matt Forde?

  He's so good, I thought they were football results.

• 16:01Matt Forde?

  Five-two, six-sevens, god, big weekend.

• 16:03Alice Levine?

  In a stressful life of being the largest European LSD producer, you need to have a hobby.

• 16:12Matt Forde?

  Handshaking, he wrestles the map open against the steering wheel, and runs his finger along the tiny contour lines. He stops. Fifty-two point one seven nine north, three point nine five six west. Chlandui, Brefi, coordinates. He's just intercepted a location. If Solomon's placing orders by map reference, then somewhere in a forest in South Wales, Richard Kemp is about to make a drop. Dick shoves the map into the passenger seat. If he wants to beat Kemp there, he has to move now.

• 16:59Matt Forde?

  Next morning, come Rhyad a Forest, 5am. Richard flicks on the car's cabin light, looks down at the map in his lap. His breath curls out in silver clouds, fogging the windscreen, as Christine kills the engine. He checks his wing mirror one last time, then hers. Darkness. Sit tight. He steps out into the bitter February morning, takes a bracing lung of crisp, clean air. Leaves crunch underfoot as he walks round to the boot, takes out his spade, his torch, and a bumper box of dog biscuits.

• 17:40Alice Levine?

  You've gotta keep your strength up for this kind of thing.

• 17:44Matt Forde?

  Richard heads off the footpath, scanning the wood for a suitable tree. Reaches a handsome beech, then takes up his spade, and drives it straight down.

• 17:55Matt Forde?

  The hard winter ground comes up slowly. Each strike of the spade shuddering his bones, digging and digging, until eventually he stood by a hole two feet deep.

• 18:05Alice Levine?

  That's hard work.

• 18:07Matt Forde?

  Remember once having to dig a hole in a garden for an elderly neighbour?

• 18:11Alice Levine?

  To put them in?

• 18:13Matt Forde?

  We'd had a big argument and needed to get rid of evidence fast. I'd say within three or four spadefuls, you're knackered.

• 18:22Alice Levine?

  And pushing in that frail woman did not feel masculine. You felt ashamed.

• 18:26Matt Forde?

  Face down as well. Looking around once more, Richard meals, gently lowers the box inside, emptied and refilled with his signature purple microdots. There are 200,000 hits in there, each one an epiphany, forever transforming the life of the stranger who takes it. He's never lost sight of what this work means, and it's moments like these he feels it most keenly.

• 18:53Alice Levine?

  Really? His resolve and his unwavering vision. I mean, the stuff he's been through, okay, living in this remote cottage, feeling under surveillance, feeling paranoid, all of the near misses, all of the stress, and he is just focused.

• 19:11Matt Forde?

  And he feels really fulfilled by it. He feels replenished in the way that a nun or a monk would, like he's doing God's work.

• 19:19Alice Levine?

  I love at this moment he feels it most keenly as well, scrabbling around in the dirt, in the cold soil of winter, burying a box of dog biscuits. He's like, this is it. This is my calling.

• 19:32Matt Forde?

  He refills the hole, scatters some leaves over it, then pulls a penknife from his pocket, carves a symbol into the tree. A hexagon fused to a pentagon. An indole ring, the central molecular structure of the LSD compound, the core around which everything else is built.

• 19:53Matt Forde?

  Richard's head bolts up, snaps around, chasing the echo bouncing between the trees. Hello?

• 20:01Matt Forde?

  Christine! His flesh begins to prickle. He clicks on his torch. Hello? Hello? Sweeping the light left and right, he walks forward. Who's there? Richard jumps back as a hulking great shadow leaps out at him from behind a tree.

• 20:21Matt Forde?

  Aiming his torch straight up, he wheezes, finds himself staring straight into the face of a quivering doe.

• 20:30Matt Forde?

  The animal skitters off. Richard exhales shakily, absently following the deer with his torch beam, then stops.

• 20:39Matt Forde?

  The light snags on something in the distance.

• 20:43Matt Forde?

  Something reflective. A registration plate. He freezes, his heart leaping to his throat. A hundred yards away is a parked car, with his headlights off.

• 20:58Matt Forde?

  He hadn't heard it approach, or seen it pull up. It must have been here all along. Slowly, he raises his torch directly at the car's windscreen, squinting to see who's inside. Hello?

• 21:15Matt Forde?

  A quivering doe.

• 21:18Matt Forde?

  We also taught them how to drive.

• 21:20Alice Levine?

  But will never admit it.

• 21:23Matt Forde?

  The car is empty. Pressure builds in his chest. He turns again, swipes his torch around, casting strange shadows everywhere. He kills the light, then turns and runs, full pelt, back through the trees. Whatever's happening here, the rest of tonight's drop-offs will have to wait. Something strange is going on, and he needs to tell Solomon before it's too late.

• 21:58Matt Forde?

  A few seconds later. Dick unfolds himself from the footwell of his Cortina, his pulse still hammering. For a split second, he genuinely thought Kemp had spotted him. Dick's been up for over twenty-four hours now. The last eight sat stalking out this spot, terrified to move in case he missed anything. Cramp bites at the back of his thigh, his bladder fit to burst, but a piss will have to wait. Right now, Dick has to figure out what the hell it was he just witnessed.

• 22:30Matt Forde?

  Slipping from his car, he edges towards the spot where he saw Kemp's shadow digging. He scrambles through the dark, his flashlight catching gnarled roots. Until he nears the tree he watched Kemp mark. He raises his torch to discover a demonic pentagram, angled to face a small scattering of leaves.

• 22:52Matt Forde?

  He drops to his knees, thrusts his fingers deep into the dirt, and starts scooping up handfuls of soil. Twigs scratch his skin, dirt wedges under his nails, but he keeps digging, down and down, until his fingers hit cardboard. His breath catches. Brushing the loose soil from the top of the box, his brow nits in surprise to see a cartoon dog smiling up at him. Dick pulls the carton of dog biscuits out, flips the lid open, and feels his jaw fall. Thousands of tiny purple pills. Fuck. Dead drops.

• 23:33Matt Forde?

  They've literally been burying this stuff in the ground, hiding their stashes, staggering the handovers. Dick snaps upright at the sound of tyres in the distance. He drops the box back into the hole, piles the soil back over, stunts it down firmly, then sprints back to the Cortina. Slinking low, Dick picks up the camera on his passenger seat, aims it across the forest floor as another car pulls up.

• 24:02Matt Forde?

  Through the viewfinder, he tracks a stocky man stepping out. A trowel in one hand, a canvas bag in the other.

• 24:09Alice Levine?

  Wow, it's not subtle, is it? You couldn't say, "I'm just going for a dog walk."

• 24:14Matt Forde?

  Yeah, I always bring my big trowel. Because I tell you what, the stuff that comes out of this guy, you can't pick it up with your bare hands. He continues to watch as the man walks through the woods, scanning each of the trees, until he spots Kemp's symbol. A giddy sensation blossoms in Dick's chest as the lackey hauls the stash from the ground. Dick grips the door handle, ready to charge. Catch this guy, red-handed. Finally get something to show for all this.

• 24:45Matt Forde?

  Then he stops, picks his camera back up, and turns it to the car's registration. Dick can't risk spooking the system just yet. Not while there's still so much to learn. This man is just a cog. Instead, he's gonna stick to this guy like glue. Follow where he takes that stash. Watch what he does with it. And then get even closer. For the first time since starting Operation Julie, he can see a way in.

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• 26:22Matt Forde?

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• 27:04Matt Forde?

  Ten days later, Thames Valley Police Station.

• 27:09Matt Forde?

  Doug Flanagan wakes with a pounding skull. Puts a hungover hand to his temples, squeezes against the pain. He wincers as something wet trickles down his cheek. Pulling his hand away, he jolts to find it smeared with blood. He stares at it on his fingertips, then slowly takes in the steel bunk bed beneath him, the barred windows, and the locked door. He clamps his eyes shut, a wave of nausea washing over him as he tries to desperately recall last night. Drinking at the tavern, celebrating a big job, some beers, a few lions, a bloke trying to sell him second-hand cars. Then, the memory slips.

• 27:54Matt Forde?

  From the aches in his body, he must have passed out.

• 27:58Matt Forde?

  Doug looks up, and a chill cuts through him as he recognizes the face peering through the bars. He remembers the guy approaching him about his car. Said he was an antique car dealer. They spent an evening together swapping stories about old motors. He was so drunk by the end of it, he can hardly remember. And now, here he is, with a police badge pinned to his lapel. Mr. Flanagan, time for a little chat. Doug's mind races, as his paltry, messelen dragged to a small, windowless interrogation room. Where am I? What is this?

• 28:36Matt Forde?

  He flinches as a photo slams down in front of him. A sour taste climbs Doug's throat as he sees it's a tree trunk carved with a pentagram. Carrying 200,000 class A's gets you more than a slap wrist, pal. Doug's stomach gurgles. So I'd suggest you start talking. Doug looks down at the floor, a slow burn of panic sweeping through him. LSD is category one possession, 14 years, and I can see to it that you serve every last day. He's just a local lad, picked up a bit of extra work, shifting whatever makes him money. He's not like the guy who runs this thing with his mad global enlightenment project.

• 29:18Matt Forde?

  He doesn't care about LSD, not enough to become a martyr for it.

• 29:24Matt Forde?

  Another photo hits the table.

• 29:27Matt Forde?

  How do you know this man? A long lens shot of a slender, scruffy haired hippie digging a cabbage patch. Doug's panic becomes puzzlement. Um, I don't know, I just picked the. But the detective slams his fist on the table. Cut the shit, Doug. What do you know about Berlin? Doug looks up. Berlin? I'll start drawing up the charges. Doug lurches forward in his seat. I'm telling you, that's not who I work for. I don't know who that is. The detective stops, turns back, his eyes narrowing. Doug's insides heave. Either he keeps his mouth shut and takes the fall for all this,

• 30:11Matt Forde?

  or he rats out the one person he does know, the guy who gives him his orders, the head of the whole operation.

• 30:22Alice Levine?

  Okay, so this is interesting. So Richard's a stranger to him, but potentially he knows Solomon?

• 30:26Matt Forde?

  Yeah, which feels like a flaw because what they've done here is quite innovative and Dick has stumbled across, this has never really been seen before, a new way of structuring a criminal organisation where each individual actually doesn't have any contact with anyone else. It's all done through dead drops, it's all done under the cloak of anonymity, so that if you're caught, you genuinely don't know any of the other people involved in the enterprise. But obviously the flaw is that it turns out Solomon has been having direct contact with one of the lowliest members of it, and that undermines the whole thing.

• 31:01Matt Forde?

  Two seconds later. Dick storms up to the table, grabs it by its edges, pulls himself forward to Doug's face. So close, he can feel the heat of his hangover. He's had just about enough of this stupid bastard stonewalling. He's spent the last week undercover, so he can pull this scumbag on false charges so as to avoid alerting Kemp and his crew. But he needs a name. Who do you work for?

• 31:30Matt Forde?

  Nothing. He brings his fist down hard on the table. Give me a name! Pressing his forehead closer, he feels Doug begin to tremble, sweat dotting his scalp. He grabs up a stack of photos, lays them out one by one.

• 31:49Matt Forde?

  Richard Kemp burying the acid. Doug digging it back up. Doug taking it to his house. He smirks, as Doug's eyes widen in horror. That's how I know you know Richard Kemp. Doug looks up, open-mouthed.

• 32:10Matt Forde?

  I don't, I swear. I get told where to be and when, I dig it up, then divvy it out the way I'm told, some for the post, some buried again at other locations. But I never meet anyone. The guy I work for insists on it. And that's not that guy. He leans forward.

• 32:30Matt Forde?

  Sir, what's his name? It's David. David Solomon.

• 32:38Alice Levine?

  At least make it seem like he's squeezed it out of ya.

• 32:41Matt Forde?

  I really don't want to tell ya, please.

• 32:43Alice Levine?

  David Solomon, oh seven nine.

• 32:50Matt Forde?

  Dick bursts from the room, rushing through the corridors back to his office, to the investigation corp.

• 32:58Matt Forde?

  He rips out every pin and paper, slings it all in the bin.

• 33:02Matt Forde?

  Taking a fresh stack of cards, he scribbles out the name in thick, black ink. Pins it right at the top, next to Richard Kemp. Two heads. Kemp, the chemist. Solomon, the distributor, controlling it. Stepping back, he can see it all. The network finally taking shape in front of him. Regional distributors like Doug, who pick up what Richard leaves, repackage it, and who must then punt it out to local wholesalers. From there, feeding down to individual street dealers. But, Solomon's insistence on keeping everyone isolated means Doug can only ever be good for one lead.

• 33:45Matt Forde?

  It's a machine designed to keep everyone isolated and protected. But every criminal empire has a weak link. And Dick knows exactly where to start.

• 34:05Matt Forde?

  Two days later, Penclane Eye Cottage, Wales. Richard presses the phone to his ear, and a palm to his forehead. "I, I, I don't understand what you're telling me. I tried to warn you that..." "I can't make it any clearer over the phone. The bird watchers have caught a sparrow.

• 34:27Matt Forde?

  Just lay low for a minute."

• 34:33Matt Forde?

  He slams the phone down, charges into the kitchen, shoulder barging the heavy oak table across the floor, sending Christine's tea sloshing. "Jesus Christ, Reg!" Dropping to his knees, Richard prices up the loose floorboard, then stuffs his arm deep into the hole. "What the hell are you doing?" His mind is churning too fast to explain. "Richard! What the fuck is happening?" He snaps back to the room, grabs Christine's shoulders.

• 35:07Matt Forde?

  One of our men, he's disappeared.

• 35:11Matt Forde?

  He sees Chris's face drop as she registers what it might mean. Okay, what do you need me to do? There's a black bag hidden in the compost heap. I need you to get it.

• 35:25Matt Forde?

  From under the floorboards, he pulls up six big bags of microdots. And finally, a large glass flask of pure liquid acid glinting in the light. Laying it all out, he stares at it. His entire reserve, months of work. There's enough here for over 10 million trips, and he has to get rid of it. But he's poured blood, sweat and tears into making this stuff. He can't just tip it down the drain.

• 35:53Alice Levine?

  That is devastating though, isn't it? That is some beautiful chemistry.

• 35:59Matt Forde?

  It's a shame that he used his powers for this. He could have invented a vaccine or something. A really fun one.

• 36:07Alice Levine?

  Some would say this is a vaccine against isolation and inhumanity.

• 36:14Matt Forde?

  He has to hide it and fast. Christine re-enters, mud on her jeans, a filthy bin bag jangling in her arms. Richard tears it open, roots around the equipment inside. Balls, tableting moulds, an assortment of sealable flasks. How can I help? I could mix or bottle or drive. He turns to her, sees her buzzing anxiously, and realises it's not just the acid he needs to protect. Taking her hand, he leads her to the bedroom. Funny time to do it.

• 36:52Alice Levine?

  Oh, I suppose it's relaxing.

• 36:58Matt Forde?

  He dives down onto his stomach, starts rooting around under the bed. What's the most professional outfit you have? Um, I have that grey blazer I used to wear at conferences. His hand brushes against a leather strap.

• 37:12Alice Levine?

  Don't wear that.

• 37:14Matt Forde?

  Get it out, then grab your passport. What? No, I'm not leaving. Richard wraps his wrist around the strap. Chris, please. Absolutely not. We're in this together. I know, which is why I need you to go.

• 37:34Matt Forde?

  He clambers to his feet. From under their bed, he yanks out a heavy leather bag, heaving it onto the mattress with a dull thud. She stares at it, frozen. He can tell she's vibrating with fear, because she knows exactly what's inside. Richard hates to put her in this position, truly, he does. But if he's going to save the operation, then he needs someone he trusts to disappear with the money.

• 38:12Matt Forde?

  The next morning, Thames Valley Police Station. Dick drums his fingers on the counter of the evidence room. He couldn't get clearance for a second wiretap on Solomon's phone. The Home Secretary making it crystal clear he wasn't some sort of bloody police genie. But he's managed to secure the next best thing. The clerk drops an enormous package on the counter. There you go, one month of phone records. Dick walks it back to his desk in a daze. It's the size of the bloody Yellow Pages, and it reads like it, too. Flicking through the top few sheets, he stares in amazement at all the cities Solomon calls in a day. London, Birmingham, Manchester, Glasgow, Plymouth, Hull.

• 38:57Matt Forde?

  Dozens of international codes, too. America, Canada, France, Spain, Australia. He slumps into his chair, reeling at the scope of it.

• 39:10Matt Forde?

  Three hours later, he stood surveying a fully recalibrated corkboard. The whole of Britain alive with colour-coded pins and strings. Names, addresses, suspected roles, all across the country and beyond. All linking back to Solomon and Kemp. Colleagues rush in and out with new pieces of the puzzle. Solomon calls this number directly after Kemp. It's in Swindon, the home of Russell Spencilly, our most likely runner between Wales and London.

• 39:42Matt Forde?

  Dick drives a pin into Swindon. Another officer stumbles in. “Okay, this one’s 34 Chapel Lane in Hankerton. Residents already known to local police, couple of weed and speed sellers. John McDonald and William Lockett.” Dick jots down their names, adds them to the board. Another officer comes pelting in. “I’ve got a lead on that German number. It’s a payphone, down the street from a suspected hideout of the Bader Minehoff gang.” Dick starts in shock. He grabs up his notepad. A memory triggered. “Hang on, West Berlin?” The officer nods. Dick’s body fills with rage. They aren’t just dealing with German anarchists.

• 40:26Matt Forde?

  The Bader Minehoff gang is an officially designated terrorist organisation. He catches Pritchard’s eye.

• 40:35Matt Forde?

  Dick realises he must be thinking the same as he is. Because if Kemp and Solomon are colluding with terrorist organisations, that makes this case a matter of national security. The Home Office will have no choice but to reconsider its position and back into the hilt with whatever he needs to take these bastards down. Nationwide. He storms from his office, headed to his car when a voice calls across the room. “Sir!” Dick turns to see Pritchard hanging on the phone, his hand covering the mouthpiece. “It’s Christine Bot. She’s just been spotted at the airport buying a one-way ticket to Zurich.”

• 41:22Speaker 06

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• 42:05Speaker 06

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• 42:21Alice Levine?

  Journalist Tristan Redman goes where no son-in-law should ever go. Deep into his wife's family history, digging up the cold case of who murdered her great-grandmother. Because, I should mention, he thinks the murderer might actually be the beloved family patriarch. For the best binge-watch series like Ghost Story, listen to the Audible True Crime Podcast wherever you get your podcasts.

• 42:50Matt Forde?

  The next morning, the B4343 wails. Dick hairs his Ford Cortina along the now-familiar route to blind car run, sheep and stone walls whizzing past his eyeline. It's a few minutes shy of 5 a.m., and he's on his way to stage a raid. The biggest of his career, and the biggest drugs operation in British history. Dick could have spent months dotting every I, crossing every T, meticulously building this case, but not at the cost of letting them escape. He's just going to have to throw his net wide and scoop up every last suspect he can. His radio crackles. 242, this is Unit 14 Manchester.

• 43:35Matt Forde?

  In position and waiting on command. Over. Dick tightens his grip on his handset. Copy, Unit 14. Hold tight. We're four minutes out. Over.

• 43:47Matt Forde?

  He turns right onto a winding country road, his car bumping down the uneven track. 242, this is Unit 46 Canterbury. We have eyes on the target. Over. Dick doesn't take his eyes off the road. He's pulled together 800 officers out in the field this morning, in cities, towns, and villages all across the country, staking out the addresses his squad traced the network's primary activity to. Every unit poised for a synchronized strike.

• 44:17Alice Levine?

  OK, not being funny, if you don't get them with 800 officers, bloody hell.

• 44:21Matt Forde?

  But it's amazing that they're all spread out across the country.

• 44:24Alice Levine?

  Amazing, so exciting. And also, this is in a time without digital tracking, without an ability to really be in comms apart from walkie-talkies, which is crazy.

• 44:35Matt Forde?

  242, this is Unit 33 Portsmouth. Suspect is preparing to move. Requesting permission to strike. Over. Dick's jaw tightens. No 33. Maintain your position. Nobody moves until I... Shit! He slams on his brakes. Swerves hard towards a hedgerow. The backup unit behind him following suit. 242, is everything okay?

• 45:01Matt Forde?

  A giant tractor blocking the narrow country road. Hazards on, engine off.

• 45:07Matt Forde?

  Sir, do you copy? Dick throws open the door. Unit 33, nobody moves until I give the command. Over. Running up to the tractor, he finds it abandoned. Kicks its tyres in frustration. Oh hey, hang on a minute, steady on there boyo. Dick spins round to see a farmer crouching in a ditch, fussing at a wire fence, trying to extract a lamb with its head stuck. His temples throb. These bloody sheep. He pulls his ID from his jacket pocket. Police, shift this vehicle, now. 242, coming. Where are you? Thorns scrape down the side of his car

• 45:50Matt Forde?

  as Dick squeezes through the tiny opening the tractor makes. Then stamps on the accelerator, aiming for the ridge of the valley. Thirty seconds out. The road climbs sharply. At the crest, he slams on the brakes, looking down over Pen Kleinai Cottage. His dashboard clock reads 4:59. There's no time left to talk tactics. Unit ready. We're stationed outside David Solomon's.

• 46:19Matt Forde?

  The hour has come.

• 46:22Matt Forde?

  All units, this is 242. Dick takes one final, fortifying breath. Move.

• 46:38Matt Forde?

  One minute later, Penklinai Cottage. Richard's eyes snap open. For a second, he lies still. His heart rate lurching from resting to racing at the sound of a soft thump on the kitchen door. He grasps his bed sheets, twists his head on the pillow, cocking an ear to hear more.

• 46:59Alice Levine?

  Enjoy that soft pillow, because you probably won't for much longer.

• 47:02Matt Forde?

  It's the last one you're ever gonna feel in thirty-five years. Nothing.

• 47:09Matt Forde?

  Slipping quietly from the bed, he tiptoes to the window, parting the curtains just enough to look out into the pale pre-dawn light. Christine. She's due back today. He pulls on his dressing gown, ready to greet her when the bedroom door bursts open. Two sets of hands lift him off his feet, slamming him against his bed. A third figure comes charging towards him. Don't move, hands where we can see them! He roars in pain as his arms are wrenched back. Richard Kemp, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the production of a class A controlled substance and the possession of the same with intent to supply.

• 47:49Matt Forde?

  Richard can barely feel himself being marched down his stairs, his whole body numb. But the sight of more officers tearing up his house brings him straight back to his senses. Sir! We have something! His guts freeze as he hears the voices coming from the kitchen. Bustled through, Richard sees the floorboards are already up and one of the officers is waving about a flask full of acid.

• 48:17Matt Forde?

  It's enough here for a few hundred thousand doses, I'd say. The arresting officer turns to him, a sadistic grin on his face. And we're just getting started.

• 48:27Alice Levine?

  Oh, he's got some swagger now, hasn't he?

• 48:29Matt Forde?

  Richard holds the officer's gleeful gaze. In the last two days, Richard's worked ceaselessly to hide nearly twenty times that much in various locations across the Welsh countryside. So whatever happens to him now, the revolution will continue. It won't die with him.

• 48:47Matt Forde?

  As Richard's bundled up the hill, he's surprised at how calm he is. This mission was always supposed to be bigger than him. But that peace quickly drains as he finds not one, but two police cars waiting at the crest of the hill. And his stomach drops when he sees who's sat in the back of the second. Wait, no, she's got nothing to do with this. She's...

• 49:11Matt Forde?

  A hand shoves his head down, cutting the thought off in his throat, stuffing him into the other car. He twists in his seat, desperately jerking his head to try and catch Christine's eye. As he starts to realise, the revolution, everything he ever dreamed of, changing the consciousness of the entire world...

• 49:32Matt Forde?

  is over.

• 49:40Alice Levine?

  Okay, look, Christine has made some mistakes. She will not be the last British scandal plus one to follow their man into some treacherous waters. But she's definitely a victim in this. And also, I feel like Richard is a really unique character in the canon of British scandal because, yes, he's a criminal, but he's the most altruistic one we've ever had. He just had this vision. He's not about the money. He's not out to ruin people's lives. He just has this dream, which you may or may not agree with. And that's shattered. And I just, I kind of feel a lot of sympathy towards him.

• 50:15Matt Forde?

  That's true, but he's broken the law, so I say taser him.

• 50:21Matt Forde?

  The following afternoon, Thames Valley Police Headquarters. Dick steps up to the podium, a faint flutter of nerves in his stomach as he looks out over the press pack. He glances down at his notes one final time, but there's still something snagging at the back of his mind. He clears his throat.

• 50:46Matt Forde?

  After many months of intensive investigation, I am pleased to announce today that Operation Julie has successfully arrested over 120 suspects affiliated with the largest drug production network in Britain. This was the first task force of its type in Britain, and thanks to the dedication of many officers around the country, we have put an end to a vast criminal enterprise responsible for supplying 90% of the British LSD market and 60% of the world. He holds up a hand. As of today, the so-called Microdot Gang is no longer. Its head chemist, Richard Kemp, and its chief distributor, David Solomon, and a wide array of suspected associates have been charged with a range of crimes and are awaiting trial.

• 51:31Matt Forde?

  Is it true you were outwitted by a sheep? The room erupts into raucous laughter. Dick stares at the reporter, then allows himself a small smile. The operation did present some rather unique challenges, so if you hear of any reports of a sheep in the clandestine Brefy area that can pick up Radio Wales, that's why. He points for another question. You claim that this drug ring was responsible for 60% of the world's LSD supply, yet I hear you've only managed to seize a few hundred thousand doses. That doesn't seem like very much. Dick's lips curl. Our search...

• 52:15Matt Forde?

  He pauses, irritated at the question. For the contraband is still in its early stages. We remain confident we'll recover the totality in due course. He goes to step down. It's not just the sheep that are foxed, is it detective? There are rumours of acid buried in the valley.

• 52:32Alice Levine?

  I cannot stress enough, 60% of the world's supply, 90% of the country's. I don't understand why you're picking on me.

• 52:39Matt Forde?

  So this is my big day.

• 52:41Alice Levine?

  It's my princess day, actually, so can you stop ruining it?

• 52:45Matt Forde?

  He turns back to face the press, his cheeks burning, barely able to contain his anger. No further questions.

• 52:56Matt Forde?

  Back in his office, he snatches up his pad, glares at an unfinished note. The partial coordinates taken down from the wiretap. Then looks over at his pinboard. Every one of the suspects on that map will have been given orders like this. Instructions to hide stashes of acid in every forest, valley, and fell in the country.

• 53:19Matt Forde?

  Dick may have got his men. He may have taken out the network. And technically, he did get that acid off the streets. But Dick knows that somewhere, buried deep in this green and pleasant land, is a plague of purple dots. Laying dormant, biding its time, waiting to erupt again. Ready to realign the world.

• 53:54Matt Forde?

  Over the course of the following year, Dick Lee and the Operation Julie squad eventually managed to seize an estimated 6.5 million doses of LSD in liquid, crystal, and microdot form. Along with a dozen other major players in the network, David Solomon was arrested, stood trial, and eventually sentenced to 10 years for his part in distributing Class A substances. Richard Kemp pleaded guilty at trial, but always maintained his work was entirely moral, writing a 53-page defence of his actions. A document known as the Microdotrin. He received a sentence of 13 years.

• 54:36Matt Forde?

  It's estimated Kemp's microdots were distributed in over 100 countries before his empire fell. To this day, the whereabouts of his much-fabled buried acid is a mystery. And looks like it will remain that way forever.

• 55:00Matt Forde?

  From Audible Originals and Samistat Audio, this is the third episode in our series, The Acid King.

• 55:07Alice Levine?

  A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but all our dramatizations are based on historical research.

• 55:14Matt Forde?

  If you'd like to know more about this story, you can read The Microdot Gang: The Rise and Fall of the LSD Network That Turned On the World by James Wiley, Operation Julie: How the Undercover Police Team Smashed the World's Greatest Drugs Ring by Dick Lee, Operation Julie: The World's Greatest LSD Bust by Lynn Ebenezer, and undercover Operation Julie: The Inside Story by Stephen Bentley. And Alice, you need to get to the woods and hide that stash, because in our next episode, we have an interview with Neil Woods, former UK police officer and undercover drugs operative. He's now an active member of the International Drug Policy Reform Movement.

• 55:52Alice Levine?

  I'm just here with my spade, because I'm doing my truffling.

• 55:56Matt Forde?

  British Scandal is hosted by me, Matt Ford.

• 55:58Alice Levine?

  And me, Alice Levine.

• 56:00Matt Forde?

  Written by Chris Lockery. Additional writing by Alice Levine and Matt Ford. Our story editor was James Maniac. Sound design by Dan King. Our engineer was Jai Williams. For Samistat, our series producer was Chica Ayers. Our assistant producer was Louise Mason. Our senior producers were Joe Sykes and Dash Alisitsema. Executive producers for Audible were Theodora Leludis and Astel Doyle.

• 56:37Speaker 07

  On January 24, 2023, in Ducksbury, Massachusetts, Patrick Clancy called 911. He had found his wife Lindsay badly injured and his three children dead and dying. What followed would become one of the most searing and complicated cases in recent memory, raising hard questions about motherhood, mental illness, and how far our justice system will go to understand what really happened. I'm Candace DeLong, host of the podcast Killer Psyche. In our latest episode, we take you inside the case of Lindsey Clancy, the postpartum psychosis defense, the courtroom battle, and the trial that just ended in a stunning mistrial.

• 57:20Speaker 07

  Follow Killer Psyche wherever you get your podcasts. Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of Killer Psyche one week early and ad-free right now. Join Audible in the Audible app or by subscribing on Apple Podcasts.

• 57:37Speaker 06

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• 58:23Speaker 06

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