Read Fatal Dose Online

Authors: K. J. Janssen

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Thriller

Fatal Dose (9 page)

“Anyway, he’s paying her three hundred dollars for every tip she gives him. She met with him last night and told him she was doing checks on Atronen employees.”

Dennis couldn’t have missed the look of utter surprise on Mark’s face as he remarked, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I assure you, Mark, that I’m not.”

“Do you realize the advantage this gives us?”

“It gets better, Mark. Last night he upped the payments to one grand if she would give him copies of any negative reports on their employees that she comes up with. She is supposed to call him today with an answer to his offer. Oh, by the way, their agreement is that she will not give him the names of any agents she works for. So he doesn’t know that you are the agent conducting the investigation. The deal is for information only. I’m rotating her assignments so that no one in the Bureau except me and you knows she is working specifically on that investigation for you.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“No! I wanted to discuss all the ramifications with you first. Personally, I think it can help us, although I’m not sure exactly how yet. What are your thoughts?”

“I think you’re right, but it will all depend on how much info we come up with. Once we get the hot list we can figure out a way to use it. We could feed Vennuti a list of less vulnerable candidates; ones we’re probably not interested in anyway.

“That way he will not know who our actual targets are. I think it could work out well for us. So I would think that Marcia should take him up on his offer, as long as you feel she will be in no danger by doing so.”

Dennis closed his eyes as he mulled the situation over. It would be a big step whichever way he decided. There was an upside to Marcia accepting the offer at least they would be able to control the flow of information. If Vennuti thought that he was getting the straight scoop he wouldn’t be looking elsewhere for it.

Mark walked around the desk and put his hand on Dennis’s shoulder. “I know that it must feel like you have the Sword of Damocles hanging over you all the time, but this will all end well, you’ll see. We are going to shut down Vennuti and his death-dealing operations. We just have to catch ourselves a big break. This could be it.”

Dennis looked up at Mark. He seemed to be a bit more relaxed as he said, “I know you’re right, Mark. We’ll do it then. Get me at least three names and I’ll pass them to Marcia.”

“Dennis, I hope that you won’t think I’m out of place by what I’m about to say, but I’m a little surprised that you let Marcia get mixed up in this. I wouldn’t be much of an investigator if I hadn’t observed that the two of you seem to have something special going on. No one has said anything; it’s just my own observation.”

Dennis looked surprised. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to a trained eye. I just happened to pick up on a few things, like the look in your eye when I mention her name.”

“Under the circumstances I’d be foolish to deny it. Actually, we’ve been seeing each other for quite a while now. She’s fills an important void in my life. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met her. Now that my divorce is final, we’re going to tie the knot soon. I know I’m a bit older than she is, but I want to raise a new family and I want to get her as far away from this environment as I possibly can.

“To answer your question, yes, it does bother me a lot. At first I objected to her involvement in any of this, but she insisted on helping us out. We considered having her wear a wire so we could pick Vennuti up for attempted bribery, but Justice nixed that. She’s being very careful, but I swear that, regardless of Washington’s enthusiastic support, if I ever sense that she’s in the slightest danger, I’ll pull the plug right away and take my chances with the brass.”

“Well, let’s see what Marcia comes up with.”

“I think it best that you don’t give Marcia any indication that you know about us or about her connection with Vennuti.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Mark headed for the secured room where the super computer system was moved when Susan was killed. As her backup, he was now in charge of the operation. Susan never had the chance give him personal instructions on how to use some the special equipment she requisitioned, or how best to use some of the unique software she developed.

Fortunately, her documentation was detailed enough that he was able to utilize much of what was available. Her software was way ahead of the curve. Mark didn’t have the savvy to write code that good or to make any significant improvements. He welcomed the search for her successor. It needed to be someone with the scientific background to understand the unique programming; someone with credentials that mirrored hers. There was no doubt that the search was going to take a long time. Even if someone with the unique blend of computer skills was found, the candidate would have to be willing to give up what would probably be a very lucrative private practice to become an FBI agent. That meant that Mark would probably be operating the center for some time. He was doing the best he could to process the special requests from Washington while keeping up with his other work. He was assigned three highly skilled techs who assist him with some runs as required.

Right now he needed some of Susan’s programs to get him past the Atronen firewalls. He was using the software she’d dubbed “LEECH” to uncover the way they stored their information so he could convert the output into the format Marcia needed to conduct the background searches. It took him three hours before he finally exited the room with the personnel records of all two hundred twenty-three Atronen employees in the greater Cleveland area.

The lists were alphabetical by last name, and provided spouse’s name, someone to contact in case of an emergency, home address, past home addresses, date of birth, department name, date of employment, previous employment (if any), school dates educational background plus a host of other essential data elements required by Mark’s special software.

Mark pulled Marco Vennuti’s records and set them aside in a manila folder; he, alone, would handle that search.

He found Marcia at her desk, busily entering some data from a legal sized yellow pad. She didn’t notice him until he was standing right next to her. She looked up, startled.

“I’m sorry for sneaking up on you, Marcia.”

“That’s okay, Special Agent Matthews. I was concentrating too much and I just didn’t notice you.” She smiled and turned her full attention to him. “What can I do for you? Are you ready with the information you were putting together?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. There is quite a lot to input. I’ll need it as quickly as you can get it done. Do you have the time to start work on it now?”

“Actually, I expected the list this morning, so I was just filling in time with this report. I’m prepared to start right away.”

“That’s great, Marcia. It’s pretty straightforward. You’ll be following the same protocol as before. You should have everything you need for my program promptings in those reports. If you have any questions, give me a call. Thanks again.”

That gets it started. If her practice session with my software is any indication, I might even have the results by the end of the day, or at the latest early Monday morning. It all depends on how many employees have things to hide. I can hardly wait.

Mark returned to his cubicle. He had a phone message from Chuck. The PDS had a special meeting scheduled for three o’clock. That gave him time to organize the bios that several team members asked him to put together. Joan Vespy needed information on two men suspected of selling prescription drugs through mail order. They were low-level con men with easily traced records.

Tom Norton’s list was longer. He asked Mark to conduct background checks on the management of three sub-contractors that were suspected of “thinning” (the practice of replacing all or some of the original capsules or tablets with cut-rate counterfeits and then repackaging them). That search proved more difficult, since the contractors were from the same Eastern European countries that were the source of the illicit pills. Mark was grateful for the recent cooperation between the FBI and foreign agencies. Without the improved communications, it would be next to impossible to get information on foreign nationals, who were rapidly becoming growing part of the counterfeit pharmaceutical supply problem. The data he needed was being faxed by the end of the day. A few years back it would have taken months of investigating.

Before the meeting started, the PDS members once again expressed their disdain for the Bureau’s approach to the Brice Bennett investigation, but Chuck assured them that there were good reasons for the hands-off rule although he couldn’t give any that made sense to the group.

Mark started off the meeting by updating everyone on the in-depth search of the Atronen Personnel Data Base. He did not, however, disclose how he planned to use the information.

Joan Vespy reported on the futile interrogation of the three men caught robbing a drug store. The men refused to disclose any connection to an organized theft ring, insisting that they were working alone, with intentions of selling the drugs on the street. They were eventually released on bail and subsequently disappeared off the streets.

Chuck Wesson had a short list to conclude the meeting, including a report of a Cleveland Heights woman found dead in her apartment from a counterfeit prescription and several arrests of drug thieves. There were fewer arrests than had been reported at the last meeting. It was almost as if drug criminals were suddenly on vacation, or was it just the lull before the storm?

The meeting ended with plans to meet a week later.

On the way out, Mark collared Wendy. “How’ve you been?”

“Great, Mark. How about you?”

“Same here. Say, how about having a drink with me after work? On my way home the other day I spotted a new place that won’t be overrun with fellow workers. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course,” he said with a smile.

“That sounds great. I’ll meet you downstairs at six.”

Mark had a few hours to kill, so he checked his emails. One in particular caught his eye. It was from Bruce Crandall, his office manager in Centerville. He needed to discuss a new client. Mark dialed using his personal cell phone.

When Mark was recruited as a Special Agent for the FBI, he did so as an undercover agent. He continued to operate his Private Investigation business in his hometown of Centerville, Ohio. His office manager and secretary were unaware of his FBI identity.

“International Investigation Specialists,” Brenda announced. Brenda Young was his secretary/receptionist.

“Good afternoon, Brenda. How are things going at IIS?”

“Oh, Mister Matthews. I didn’t recognize the number. It’s good to hear from you. How are things going out there?”

“Well, I’m being kept busy. These clients have multiple international networks that make my work that much more difficult. I’ll probably be here at least another month, although I do plan to take a few days off next week to touch base with you and Bruce. By the way, how are things working out for Bruce?”

“Just great. He’s such a natural for this kind of work. He’s keeping me very busy. I’m not complaining, mind you. You know how I love the work.”

“Super! Is he around?”

“He sure is, please hold on a minute.”

A moment later, Bruce was on the phone. “Mark, I’m glad you called. Do you recall that Chinese company I mentioned a few weeks back?”

“The one setting up a marketing office in Ohio?”

“That’s the one. They are getting very antsy. They’re on a fast track to start up operations within four months. The list they want us to check has about fifty names on it; mostly marketing people and middle management. It looks like it could be one of your house accounts eventually, but I’m guessing you have a full plate right now. The catch is that they want to pay us in Euros instead of dollars. Frankly, I’m not sure what to do. They’re expecting an answer by Friday.”

“What are they planning to import?”

“Pharmaceuticals. They have some tentative agreements to supply a network of generic drug distributors around the country. They plan to call it Pharma-Smythe.”

Mark did not answer right away.

Bruce reacted to the silence on the line “Mark, are you still there?”

“Yes, I am. You just surprised me when you said pharmaceuticals. Is there anything the Chinese don’t manufacture?” he asked. His thoughts were already way past that conjecture.

“I know what you mean. This company has contracts with several large international companies to manufacture and distribute most of the big name generics. I guess using a Chinese company to manufacture and distribute products is cost effective. As I understand it, the profit margin on generic drugs is very narrow, so low foreign production wages must make a company very competitive in that market.

“They tell me the deal is cleared through the FDA and key departments in Washington. Negotiations have been going on for over two years. Apparently IIS was selected because of the growing international bias of our corporate client base. Their prospective employees are all American citizens. To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were recommended to them by some of your old buddies in Washington.”

“You may be right, but if that’s the case, I wish they would have given me a heads up. I don’t appreciated being blindsided by something this big. I guess I should ask around to determine if this would be a good one for us. How deep do they want us to go?”

“Typical three-level stuff for now. All of the candidates have experience in the industry, so it should be a slam-dunk for me. I have the time to do the work if you think we should take it on. They want to use us for the start-up, with an annual contingency for investigating new employees and new clients as they come along. One of their distributors will be an Ohio company by the name of Atronen Pharmaceuticals.

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