Authors: K. J. Janssen
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Thriller
Abruptly, the sound of Charles’ voice shook him from his reverie. “We have a few new developments we need to discuss.” He cleared his throat and continued. “First of all, there have been two more confirmed deaths from counterfeit drugs during the past week, both in Florida. The serial numbers on the bottles were consistent with those that have originated in our area. In both cases they were Pfizer knock-offs. The first was an aldosterone blocker called Inspira. It’s for patients who develop heart failure following a heart attack; high levels of the aldosterone hormone can lead to heart failure. The second is called Tikosyn. It’s a medicine for patients with atrial fibrillation, otherwise known as an irregular heartbeat. While this condition can’t be cured, it can be treated by medicines like Tikosyn.” Wesson spoke in a low monotonic voice. Mark found himself straining to hear, the continued distraction of Wendy’s neck notwithstanding.
Wesson continued, “The Cleveland Police arrested three men last night who broke into a drug store and attempted to steal the store’s supply of seven of the top selling drugs. They actually had a shopping list. They left their unmarked van parked by the rear door of the pharmacy with the motor running and without a driver or lookout. A police cruiser noticed exhaust fumes coming from the van, called for backup and nabbed the trio as they exited the store with several cartons.
He turned to Joan. “I’ll need you to get over to the courthouse and make sure that those bozos are refused bail. We don’t want them back on the streets anytime soon. We’re going to need some time with them to find out who they are working for. Their arraignment hearing is at eleven-thirty this morning. Wayne Luskin is the prosecutor. He should be able to buy us a day or two.”
Joan jotted down the names and time and nodded to Wesson to continue.
Wesson’s list was a lot longer than Mark expected it would be. Charles was just turning over the first of what looked like at least a half-dozen pages. It appeared that even petty crimes involving pharmaceuticals were lucrative enough to risk jail time. Fifty minutes later and ten pages of notes on Mark’s pad, the “latest” news was covered. The crimes ranged from thefts at laboratories to sales of fake and legitimate drugs on street corners and neighborhood back alleys. The number of incidents was growing steadily. America had a pandemic on its hands and was unaware of the potential consequences.
“There is a copy of all this for each of you,” Charles said. “See if anything applies to what you’re working on. Now, let’s have your reports. You first, Joan, in case you need to leave to make it to that arraignment.”
Joan opened her case file. “I received our weekly update from the FDA this morning. It looks like things are going to get a lot worse in the coming months. They report that a new batch of counterfeit drugs hit the streets of New York City, Trenton, New Jersey and Philadelphia last week. These originate in Eastern Europe. They’re so close to the real thing that the FDA labs almost missed them. The formulas are identical to the real thing. The only thing that gave them away was the tablet pressing and packaging. They are both rather bush league. I’ll copy you for your files. Look closely at the photos and you’ll see what I mean about the quality.”
She stopped for a minute to take a sip of coffee. “I talked with Chief Jacobsen last Friday. He says that there has been a marked decrease in illegal drug trafficking and an increase in prescription drug peddling. Some of the stuff they’re pushing is fake, but a lot is legit, or a mixture of both. That’s what makes our job so hard. It also explains the laundry list that Chuck was talking about earlier. The bad guys are out there cherry-picking the most sought after drugs.” She hesitated for a moment to check her files. “Oh! One more thing, Homeland Security issued a list of suspects believed to be connected with drug cartels overseas. Mark, you may want to check this out. Maybe your software can connect some of the names with stateside distributors.”
“Thanks, Joan. I’ll make a point to check it out,” he replied.
When she finished, Joan got up and excused herself from the meeting.
The next two hours were spent on the reports from Tom, Brock and Wendy and a recap by Charles. The date for the next meeting was left open.
As Mark was leaving the conference room, Wendy caught up to him. “I bet you never imagined how big a problem we have with fake pharmaceuticals in this country.”
“Boy, you can say that again. That meeting was a real eye opener. I never would have imagined all that illegal activity going on with prescription drugs. It seems too much for just the six of us to handle.”
“Yes, in many ways it is, but don’t forget that every field office has a special squad like ours some larger, some smaller. The size depends mostly on geographic and demographic criteria. Down in Florida and out in Arizona, where so many senior citizens live, the squads are several times larger than ours. The media center tries to keep us current on what other squads are doing, but what we really need is a person to coordinate PDS activities between the offices.” She smiled as she asked, “You wouldn’t want to volunteer for that job, would you?”
“What, are you nuts? Are you trying to take advantage of the new guy? Hell, I’m going to be burning the midnight oil as it is just trying to get up to speed with the rest of you. I think I’ll take a pass on that, but thank you, anyway.”
“So much for trying to trick the newbie. You can’t blame me for trying. Welcome to the club, Mark, it’s great to have you on board,” she said as she headed for her cubicle.
Mark stopped at Marcia’s desk and was surprised to find a pile of reports ready for him. “Boy, you catch on fast.” He scanned the files briefly. “If this is a sample of what I can expect, we’re going to be quite a team.”
“Thank you, Agent Matthews. Actually, your program prompts make it very easy to do the entry. I found all the names except for one. I marked that one in red.”
“Super! Are you ready for more?”
“Well, actually it’s lunch time for me. My friends are expecting me to join them.”
“That’s not a problem. Stop by my cubicle when you get back.”
“Will do.”
Mark walked down the hall to touch base with Dennis. He poked his head into his office. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure, come on in, Mark. How did the meeting go?”
“Very well, I was really impressed with the work being done by the squad. I’m going to be really challenged keeping up with them. They all seem to be far more professional than me.”
“Nonsense! If I didn’t think you were on par with every one of them, I wouldn’t have asked you to join the team. You’ve got to realize that they are experts in their own specialized areas. They could never do the searches that you do and they sure wouldn’t know how to start to use the special software or equipment in the Super Center. Take my word for it, each of you complements the others; therein is the strength of the team. Don’t doubt your value to them, for even one minute.”
“I see your point. Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“No problem! Now, what can I do for you?”
“Well, first, thanks for the tech. I got Marcia started before the meeting, processing a list using some of my special software. She caught on right away. She’s going to be a great help. I’m going to take a shot at Atronen’s computer this afternoon or tonight to get at their personnel database. Then I plan to turn Marcia loose on doing initial background checks on all their employees. Did you know that they have over one hundred white-collar people, including management here in Cleveland? Their laboratory and manufacturing plant employs another ninety. The warehouse/distribution center has an additional thirty full- and part-time workers. That brings the total to over two hundred and twenty.”
“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Mark. Just keep me informed of your progress. I’m glad that Marcia is working out. I knew that she’d be a great help to you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Marco Vennuti sat in his office staring at the phone. It was almost time for his daily call from his boss. A call that would be encrypted and sent over secured lines. As the Vice President of Security, according to the Atronen organization chart Marco reported directly to the CEO Mitchell Turner. Both Turner and Marco knew that he really reported directly to Clifford Melbourne, who maintained an office in Cleveland Heights. Melbourne was second in command of the drug cartel operating in the eight Midwestern states. The region was run by John Pierce, who reported to a national drug syndicate. When Vennuti informed Melbourne about the death of Brice Bennett, he was careful to omit the part about Brice’s FBI connection. That information was too self-incriminating. Melbourne immediately arranged for the execution of the three men who were involved a job. It was taken care of within eight hours. Marco’s secret was safe. Their bodies were dumped in the middle of Lake Erie. Melbourne was a strong believer in no loose ends.
Marco became VP of Security at Atronen on the day that the cartel took ownership. He worked as a consultant for the Private Corrections Venture Fund for eight years prior to that. At forty-one, Vennuti was young for such an important position, especially since his formal education stopped at high school.
Marco’s high school years revolved around his athletic ability. He tried out for, and won, a spot as a defensive lineman at Central High. He got the well earned reputation, for being a smart, tough-nosed tackle willing to do anything to help the team win. Most of the fights that broke out during the games and injuries to the other team’s players could be traced back to him. He picked up the nickname “killer”. His tough play set new school and division records for sacks and tackles, but his personal stats were not good enough to interest any colleges. That disappointed his step-father Guido DeAngelo who entertained the idea of his “creation” going on to college and then turning pro, with him as Marco’s manager. Instead, as soon he graduated, Marco joined the army. Guido tried to persuade him not to waste his time in the military; maybe to try out for semi-pro ball.
His mother supported his decision enthusiastically. She welcomed the opportunity for her son to sever the relationship with his controlling stepfather. While Vennuti was serving his country, Guido DeAngelo died of emphysema; the result of a lifetime, three pack a day habit. The bond that kept Marco in a constant state of proving himself was finally broken.
Marco volunteered for military service when he was eighteen. According to the only available records, his service with the U.S. Army was exemplary. Somehow he managed to be assigned to the Military Police, and was promoted to Sergeant First Class after attending the Military Police-Advanced Non-Commissioned Officer School. Someone was behind the scenes pulling strings, but the record of who it was has long been expunged. He left the service with an honorable discharge, and was hired immediately by the Private Corrections Venture Fund.
Several stockholders in the fund were connected to the mob, making Vennuti “connected” at the very start of his career. Marco had a few scrapes with the law on his record, but nothing major. He was picked up by the Cleveland Police for brawling and once for creating a disturbance at a party while intoxicated. He was released without being charged due to the intervention of his lawyer, Arnold W. Wellington III.
Attorney Wellington has a shady reputation in Cleveland legal defense circles due to the high number of pro bono cases on behalf of the area’s seediest characters. Marco’s connection to the attorney and his place of employment, resulted in the FBI and local authorities classifying Marco Vennuti as a “person of interest”
Thanks mostly to his connections with the mob and the opportunities that have opened up as a result, Marco is sitting pretty, with bank and security accounts (some traceable, but most covert) with totaling in excess of two million dollars. It’s not as much as Marco feels he will need if he was ever to walk away, but it was a tidy sum nevertheless.
Marco let the phone ring three times before he picked up the receiver. It was one of those quirks that he had no explanation for. It was a habit that drove his ex-wife crazy. She was forever yelling, “For Christ’s sake, Marco, will you pick up that damn phone.”
“Vennuti, here!”
“Marco? It’s Melbourne!”
“Good morning, Mister Melbourne. How are you today?”
“I’m fine. Have you heard anymore about last Friday?”
“Only what I’ve read in the papers. Some Cleveland Police detectives are supposed to stop by here around eleven today. I plan to tell them that I have no explanation of why the kid was in that area of the building after normal working hours.”
“Do you think that’s such a good idea? If it looks like you suspect that he might have been up to something, it establishes a possible motive, and doesn’t speak well for your security either.”
Marco cursed himself for not having seen the obvious flaw in his plan. “I see what you mean, Mister Melbourne. I could set up a record of a lab assignment that would have required that he get some compounds from the warehouse. It’s not unusual to run out of stuff with the backlog of work we have in the research labs.”
“That sounds a lot better. The less suspicion the better. Go ahead and do it that way. Make sure that you do the bereavement thing, too. Cut a check for whatever the company owed him and make sure that his family gets it before the funeral. You want them to think well of the company. Did he have any life insurance with Atronen? Is there anything else that we can do to get their attention off of us?”
“No, sir. You have to work over six months to be eligible for the Life Insurance Program. I’ll do everything I can, but you know that there is a chance that the family may sue us because of the accident, if they’re the kind of people that do that sort of thing. Usually all it takes is a smart-ass lawyer or a well meaning friend or relative to sow the seed.”