The Silent Widow

‘Here she is.’ Haddon turned expectantly to Nikki. ‘What do you think? He’d have liked it, wouldn’t he?’

It took Nikki a second to compose her emotions. ‘He’d have loved it, Haddon. Show me inside.’

As soon as they walked through the doors, the clean, hopeful, white-picket-fence vibe of the exterior was gone, vanished like a popped bubble. Men and women – but mostly men – lay sprawled out on floors in the corridors, or bent double in misery on hard plastic chairs that had been nailed to the floor. In the two waiting rooms, wretches in various stages of addiction stared or rocked or moaned or yelled out angrily, demanding help, lashing out either at the real nursing staff who patiently attempted to keep order, or at the imagined adversaries created by their addled, psychotic minds.

Two boys in particular caught Nikki’s attention as she followed Haddon through the bedlam to his office. Both were young, late teens, and white, although that word no longer accurately described their skin color. Leaning helplessly against the wall, side by side, these kids literally looked green. Flakes of skin were peeling off their forearms, necks and faces, like old paint coming off a wall.

‘Is that heroin?’ Nikki whispered in Haddon’s ear. ‘Poor things. They look like they have blood poisoning.’

Haddon led her into his office and closed the door before answering.

‘It’s not heroin,’ he told Nikki. ‘But it’s similar. It’s a desomorphine derivative called Crocodile – or Krokodil in Russian. The Russians are the ones bringing it over here.’

‘Because of what it does to the skin?’ Nikki asked.

Haddon nodded. ‘It’s pretty horrific. Did Doug ever talk to you about this?’

Nikki shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘It’s sort of the “new new thing” in LA right now,’ Haddon explained. ‘The Russians are basically making a big push to maneuver the Mexicans out of the drug business here, or at least to set up some viable competition. It’s a trade war, and those kids you saw out there are the victims. Krok’s the dealers’ latest weapon of choice.

‘It’s a problem, because it can be easily home-made, which means the supply gets contaminated with all kinds of shit: paint thinner, hydrochloric acid – you name it. It’s been huge in Russia for a long time, but it’s still relatively new here. Gaining ground though.’

‘Are you seeing more kids like that?’ Nikki couldn’t get the image of the two green-skinned boys out of her head.

‘Oh yeah. Every week,’ Haddon confirmed grimly. ‘Like I say, it’s a trade war. So the Russians came in and wowed everyone with this stuff, which has a bigger high than meth, by the way. But now the Mexican cartels are pushing back with their own brand of Krok, supposedly cleaner than the Russian product – which wouldn’t be hard. The Mexican stuff is more expensive, but still cheap enough to be accessible. So yeah, long story short, it’s cheap, it’s unbelievably potent and it’s everywhere.’

‘Can I do anything to help?’ Nikki asked.

Haddon was touched.

‘Not really, sweetheart.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Although I appreciate the offer. Right now I’d say you have more than enough to deal with without throwing this chaos into the mix.’

He waved around vaguely, a gesture meant to encompass the drop-in center, drug addiction generally and all that went along with it.

‘Doug always tried to protect you from the worst of it, you know. I know he’d want me to do the same, especially now, with what happened to Trey and the Flannagan girl and everything. Have the police made any progress, by the way?’

‘No.’

All of a sudden her tone was harsh and abrupt. In an instant, something had changed in Nikki, like a light switch going off. Haddon had seen this reaction before. The mere mention of Doug’s name at the ‘wrong’ time could do it. Nikki’s face would harden and her muscles tense.

‘I’m sorry,’ Haddon said gently. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘You didn’t,’ Nikki lied, fighting back tears. ‘I’m fine.’

They made it through the rest of the tour without incident. Nikki met the staff and volunteers, shaking hands and enduring the many reminiscences and condolences about Doug. Half an hour later she left. To Haddon’s surprise, she hugged him tightly in farewell.

‘I’m sorry again, about before,’ she said. ‘It was when you said something about Doug “protecting me”. It made me think about all the things he kept from me. All the secrets. You know? It’s hard sometimes.’

‘I know it is,’ said Haddon, hugging her back. ‘You don’t have to apologize, certainly not to me. Just try to focus on yourself, Nikki, and on the future. Look forward, never back.’

Nikki smiled. ‘OK, Dr Defoe. I’ll try.’

Haddon watched her walk back towards her car, until she turned the corner out of sight. He said a silent prayer that she would find the strength to take his advice and let go of the past. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about, for any of them.

Dr Haddon Defoe knew better than most that some doors should never be opened.

His friend Doug Roberts had protected his wife from more than she knew.