It’s a great thrill to be able to successfully deceive people. “And I loved the development of the skill. “Oh, but I loved the art of deception,” he offers. It’s a struggle to reconcile the faux junkie Woods used to be with the articulate ex-policeman taking me for tea and cakes. The biggest danger at the start of any job is that you’ve landed from Mars – and who are you?” Using a new cover story each time, the undercover drugs squad officer would gradually befriend destitute addicts, ingratiate himself with their dealers, buy drugs from them – and then have the whole lot sent to jail. Street slang is very regionalised, even just specific to a town, so you have to adapt quite quickly. “I was a sponge for colloquialisms and mannerisms. “It’s all about stomach cramps.”įor 14 years, Neil Woods would leave behind his wife and two young children, put on stained “charity-shop scally tracksuit bottoms”, and turn up in a town somewhere in England as a drug addict. “It’s all in the stomach,” he grins when I’ve caught up. “And this is how you walk when you’re going to score heroin.” Subtly hunched over a sunken midriff, he strides ahead, as fast as he can without breaking into a run. “So, you wanted me to show you how I used to look?” He draws in his stomach, rounds his shoulders, paws imaginary sweat from his cheeks, and suddenly I’m looking at a junkie – jumpy, wheedling, begging for a fix. Walking beside me through a market town centre is a lean, healthy, 46-year-old man.
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