Chapter 23: Mr. Hugh Spade's Trouble

Dennis Herbs had never imagined that giving out a few prescription pills each to the students at Saint Cross High School would put the school's board and PTA on high alert.

He had simply followed Tommy Hawk's suggestion to treat a small portion of the drugs as a gift for making friends with some high schoolers he wasn't very familiar with, and then, two days later, a pair of cops showed up at the school in their police car and took him to the station for questioning.

"So, kid, two days ago in the afternoon, you sold these little pills to students at Saint Cross High School, right?" The cop who brought Dennis Herbs to the interrogation room asked, as he threw the prescription drugs that had been brought in when the Saint Cross High School board reported the incident onto the table and shook his head in frustration.

If it hadn't been for the phone call and police report from the private high school's board and PTA, who even arranged a lawyer to ensure the police investigated the whole affair thoroughly, he wouldn't have bothered coming here for a measly twenty-five prescription pills. Right now, in the holding cells, waiting to be questioned, every one of the lowlifes looked more troublesome than a high school student from some crappy high school.

"Sell? No, of course not, I gave them away, they're my friends, it was just a gift," Dennis Herbs answered the police's question.

An officer, looking somberly at Dennis Herbs: "We've learned from those students that indeed you used words like 'gift,' and didn't take any money, but you should be aware of the harm these drugs can do, they're not ice cream or a music album."

"Harmful? Of course not, what a joke, officer. These aren't poisons, they're harmless Adderall and Lunesta. If you want to study late into the night without getting tired, a few pills will keep you bright-eyed till dawn, and after you're done with your homework, taking Lunesta can ensure a comfortable sleep."

"Why did you give them these drugs?"

"Officer, don't you recognize me? Dennis Herbs, the man of the hour at Lincoln High School. The 'Inferno Prisoners' rock band from Saint Cross High School invited me to their concert at school. I was flattered; you know, before this, those private school students acted all high and mighty. But now they've invited me and want to be my friends. Naturally, I wanted to show my gratitude, so I scraped together some money to buy some gifts that I thought they might need... Well... I thought they would take some pills to get energized for the concert, like we do at Lincoln High School." Dennis Herbs spread his hands and said helplessly to the police, "It looks like they don't appreciate this stuff."

The police had already found out about this high school boy from the school; apart from liking to show off, he didn't have many bad habits, and through the Drug Enforcement Administration's records system, there were no triggers for poisons or illegal drugs. Plus, with only twenty-five prescription pills on the table, the police could only reprimand him and not even formally record it, especially since the guy was a minor.

The most they would do was call Lincoln High School and let the school handle the follow-up procedures before letting him go.

"Kid, your way of making friends is a bit unlikable, and I think the entire Saint Cross High School is now refusing to be your friend," the police sighed, picking up the inquiry book on the table to end the conversation, and casually asked Dennis Herbs one last question: "So, it was you who bought twenty-five prescription pills, right? Don't do anything this stupid again; this stuff can rot your brain, kid."

"Twenty-five pills? No, I spent a lot of money and bought one hundred Adderall pills and fifty Lunesta. At the time, I thought maybe the fans at the concert would need some to amp up the atmosphere, which would be a great place to make new friends," Dennis Herbs said with a look of naïve boldness to the officer.

The officer, who was just about to start writing with his pen, paused mid-motion and looked up at Dennis Herbs, "One hundred Adderall pills and fifty Lunesta?"

"Yes, officer, I bought them for ninety-six dollars and twenty-five cents," said Dennis Herbs.

The officer glanced at the meds on the table: "There are only twenty-five pills here."

"The rest are in my storage locker at school; I was planning to bring them to the concert when it officially starts to give them out," he said.

"You couldn't possibly buy such a large quantity of drugs from a pharmacy or clinic in one go, no doctor would write such a prescription, who sold them to you, kid?" the officer closed his interrogation notebook.

Dennis shrugged, "Hugh Spade, the teacher. He's a nice guy, but he likes to jack up the prices."

...

Sitting at his desk, Hugh Spade closed the lesson plans he had just organized, letting out a breath of relief.

In the last few days, he felt his life had gotten back on track. Melanie had paid him another hundred dollars, which allowed Hugh Spade to buy the latest model of a baby bottle warmer and a silver ring. He planned to present it to the mother of his child on her birthday as a gift, in hopes of winning her back and marrying her to give his child a complete family, and most importantly, to end his current miserable single life.

That way, he wouldn't be forced by Child Protective Services to have money taken from his salary account, and he would be able to enjoy the social benefits that came with the birth of his child.

"Mr. Spade, are you busy at the moment?" An elderly janitor with white hair knocked on the wide-open office door, smiling at Hugh Spade, who was taking a brief rest inside.

"Not at all, Mr. Shale, what can I do for... Oh..." Before Hugh Spade could finish his courteous exchange, a police officer appeared at the door, startling him.

The janitor pointed at the officer and introduced him to Hugh Spade, "There are two officers here to see you."

"But I see only one." Hugh Spade's nervousness flickered across his face, then he smiled and said, "Did you get lost in our beautiful garden-like Sinclair Elementary School? Please come in and have a seat, officer."

"The other officer has gone to the principal's office to find out about you, Mr. Spade," the policeman, who appeared to be in his forties and had a weathered face, stepped up to Hugh Spade, staring at him expressionlessly, and tapped the three silver oak leaf clusters on his shoulder insignia with his finger: "I'm Lenny Clifton, a detective sergeant with the Warwick City Police Department."

Hugh Spade swallowed nervously, trying to maintain a smile, "What can I do for you, Sergeant?"

"We've been speaking with a high school student, who told us he bought some addictive psychoactive prescription drugs from you three days ago. We would like you to come to the police station to assist with the investigation. This is a document signed by the chief of the Warwick City Police Department; you can keep it for your records." Lenny Clifton pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Hugh Spade.

Hugh Spade cursed inwardly but quickly regained his composure, "Officer, as I understand, even if I did sell some prescription drugs, at most it would result in a warning talk and getting my name on a watchlist. There's no need for such a big fuss."

Lenny Clifton glanced at the gift Hugh Spade had on his table for his girlfriend when he was going off work, "The latest model electric bottle warmer, huh? Forty-seven dollars. As far as I can tell, it's unlikely that you could afford this device on your salary if you're not doing some side job."

"Officer, you need to treat me with enough respect. I'm a teacher, not a criminal," Hugh Spade, believing he understood the regulations on controlled drugs, that such a small amount of drugs could not justify being treated this way by the police, so he replied in a hostile tone.

Lenny Clifton nodded noncommittally, "I understand your feelings, but the parent committee of Holy Cross High School clearly does not agree. The drugs you sold nearly got some of those top students addicted, and do you really think that selling one hundred and fifty controlled prescription pills in a single transaction is just a matter for a warning? There might be a warning, but it won't just be that. First, you need to come with me to the police station. I'm giving you the utmost respect; it would be best if you cooperate while I still consider you a primary school teacher and not a drug dealer. Don't force me to act like I'm taking away a drug dealer. Walk out nicely and get in the police car, now."