Norwich detective Sgt. Peter Camp and his coworkers are tired of knocking on doors to tell somebody their son, daughter, spouse or sibling is dead of a suspected overdose.

The department has done 10 such death notifications in the first four months of 2017, and at this rate the city is on track to equal or surpass its fatal overdose total of 29 from 2016. Eight of the deceased were white males between the ages of 23 and 59, according to Camp. One was a 41-year-old black man. One was a white woman, age 38.

In 2016, the number of deaths by drug overdose in the state jumped by 25 percent, with most victims having heroin, fentanyl or both in their systems. A variety of groups responded to the problem.

Local, state and federal law enforcement officials have been working together to prosecute dealers and get the deadly drugs off the streets while social service agencies, hospitals and treatment providers are focusing on providing treatment and recovery services for those who are addicted and preventing others from trying pills or heroin for the first time. Gov. Dannel P. Malloy announced in the past week that the state Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services received $5.5 million from the federal government to combat the problem.

Despite these efforts, the crisis persists.

"We've seen an uptick in heroin overdoses," Chief Nick DeLia of the Groton City Fire Department said last week. "In fact, we've been to some addresses multiple times for the same person. It kind of ties in to when the (drug) deliveries arrive. When something hits the street, all of us get hammered for a couple of weeks, then it slows down."

Police in other area towns also are performing the dreaded door-knock duty frequently due to the incessant arrival in the region of "hot" batches of increasingly pure heroin and deadly fentanyl.

In Groton, a 51-year-old man died of a suspected opioid overdose on Feb. 10, according to town police Deputy Chief Paul Gately. In New London, two people died from overdoses so far this year, one on Jan. 2 and one on Feb. 11, according to acting Police Chief Peter Reichard. In Ledyard, Lt. Kenneth Creutz said a 29-year-old man died of a suspected overdose on April 18. Josh Gubbs' family wrote in his obituary he would be remembered "for his huge heart and his smile."

The purity level of heroin coming into the country via Mexico has skyrocketed in the past decade from 3 to 5 percent to upwards of 40 to 50 percent or even 70 percent purity, according to Brian Boyle, special agent in charge of Connecticut for the federal Drug Enforcement Administration. Fentanyl, a synthetic opiate responsible for many of the deaths, also is arriving from Mexico and is up to 50 times more potent than the heroin, according to the DEA.

If not for the overdose-reversal drug nalaxone, or Narcan, which first responders say they are seeing more often in homes of addicts, there would be many more death notifications and obituaries. Area departments report cases in which the same users have been revived multiple times by family members and emergency crews.

Allan Selserman of Waterford, a member of the nonprofit group Community Speaks Out, has distributed 135 Narcan kits and trained the recipients on their use since October 2016, when he was certified by the state Department of Public Health to issue the overdose-reversal drug. He has heard back from families who saved their loved ones' lives with the Narcan he provided and in one case had the opportunity to meet and hug a young woman who was revived and is on her way to treatment. He says his son Jordan, who died from a heroin overdose on Oct. 16, 2008, at age 22, is working through him.

"The feedback I usually get is, 'Thank you. What an angel you are,'" Selserman said Wednesday during a phone interview. "I usually always say the same thing: 'I don't know if I would have been doing this if my son had not died from an overdose.' It's given me an opportunity to give back so my son did not die in vain."

New London police and fire departments responded to nine non-fatal overdoses in March and five in the first three weeks of April. Groton Town has logged seven non-fatal incidents, four of which involved two of the same people. The crisis also has increased the workload of first responders in Groton City.

'Name any price'

Sgt. Camp of Norwich says the drug dealers must be learning their trade in business school.

“They market their product by stamping the bags,” he said. “If we have an overdose with a certain stamp on it, you have the addicts chasing that stamp because obviously it’s pretty damn ‘good.’ That’s scary. That’s what addiction does.”

Norwich police made a quick arrest following the overdose death on April 3 of 29-year-old David A. Marshall, a CrossFit coach and gym owner. 

Marshall’s father, Bill Marshall, wrote in a stirring obituary for his “beautiful boy” that “his laughter was infectious and his smile seemed more warming than the sun.” David had achieved five years of sobriety and wanted to get sober again, his father said in a phone interview. But David took life — and heroin — by the horns, the father said, speculating that in the hours before his death his son was having “a last hurrah” before seeking treatment.

Court records indicate that on the night of April 2, David Marshall was desperate for heroin.

“Name any price and I’ll do it,” he texted 29-year-old city resident Jonathan Owens, who is accused of selling him the heroin with fentanyl that contributed to his death.

Norwich police used Marshall’s cellphone to identify Owens after Marshall was found dead in a room at the Comfort Suites on Otrobando Avenue. Texts exchanged between the two men are part of an arrest report that Det. Jason Calouro submitted to the court after police charged Owens, of 29 Lambert Drive, within hours of Marshall’s death with possession of heroin, possession of heroin with intent to sell, possession of drug paraphernalia and driving a motor vehicle while using a cellphone.

The report indicates that for two hours on April 2, Marshall waited for Owens to get the drugs from another source, offering at one point to also pay the “homeboy” who was supplying the drug and to pick it up himself.

“Na man, as soon as I get it I will come right to you,” Owens responded.

He texted Marshall at 10:39 p.m. that he was five minutes away. That was about 10 minutes after Marshall told his father, via phone, that he was OK, according to his father.

About 11 p.m., video from the hotel lobby showed Marshall hunched over, his head bobbing, according to the report. He walked away a short time later, but was found dead in his room within hours.

The cause of death was “acute intoxication due to the combined effects” of klonipin, cocaine, buprenorphine, hydroxyzine, dextro/levo methorphan, fentanyl and heroin, according to the state Office of the Chief Medical Examiner.

'Too sketchy for me'

As police continued to monitor Marshall's phone in the hours after his death, they say Owens attempted to solicit another sale.

"Sh-t was straight, right?" he texted to Marshall's phone at 2:38 p.m. on April 3, according to the report.

Det. Calouro used the dead man's phone to set up another drug deal. Owens agreed to deliver $200 worth of heroin to the Comfort Suites. Under surveillance by detectives, Owens was "still utilizing his phone" when he arrived at the hotel, where Marshall was supposed to meet him outside.

"Dude, I'm walking out," the detective, pretending he was Marshall, texted to Owens.

Owens responded that he didn't want to wait and that he was leaving because it was "too sketchy for me." He was promptly pulled over on Otrobando Avenue, where police said he had 2.5 grams of heroin with fentanyl in his waistband and an empty pistol holster on his belt. The police obtained a search warrant and searched his home, where they found two handguns, a bulletproof vest, digital scale, safe and drug-packaging materials.

Two police officers and a chaplain went to Marshall's parents' home to inform them he was dead, Bill Marshall said. He is hoping that the police are able to bring more serious charges against Owens for selling the deadly heroin/fentanyl mix.

"He's making a living selling poison," the father said. "That in itself should put someone in prison."

k.florin@theday.com