Murder by Prescription

by Breakell Richard

  Ric pressed again, “Take me back to the beginning.”

  “Where do you mean?” questioned Marty.

  “The start of your career… and describe what you do.”

  Ten minutes later, Marty finished the description of his software and its purpose.

  “I’m impressed,” said Ric, “if I understand correctly, you are working in a new genre, generically called Big Data. You have designed algorithms that are continuously scanning all facets of the internet, especially social media, mining, and categorizing that data to know how a segment is going to react to a situation. With that data, you can predict, with a high degree of accuracy, the probabilities of, for example, the voting results of a state, county, city, block, and even a house.”

  “Fundamentally, that is correct,” replied Marty, “it is the reason Trump fooled all the pollsters and surprised everyone with his win. He was not relying on the old statistical analysis, but actual data with a high prediction probability.”

  Ric continued, “Your patented algorithms have taken that concept and applied it to the pharmaceutical industry.”

  “Yes.”

  With some excitement in his voice, Ric resumed, “So, with any consumer segment you chose, you could analyze their habits, likes, dislikes, moods, health, etc. and gauge the effects of advertising, purchasing, frequency of use, effects, or any other information you wished. Your system can organize this data into designated categories, alerting you instantly of any response that could cause disruption in the marketing of existing drugs as well as drugs in the approval process.”

  “Fundamentally… you’ve got it,” responded Marty.

  Ric nodded, “OK… now what?”

  “Great question. I am in a moral dilemma. On one hand, I have just been identified in some circles as the new ‘point of the spear’ in promoting and defending Big Pharma. On the other hand, I am having serious moral difficulty, challenging every principle with which I was raised, by accepting the dubious reward of substantial material wealth with the commensurate ego inflation.”

  They both sat staring into space. Neither knowing how to respond.

  Finally, Ric looked back at Marty, “Marty… It seems to me that before we venture down the legal road, you need to decide your personal options. You obviously understand both sides of the equation. I would guess everyone, to some degree in their lives, are confronted with decisions of this nature. Unfortunately, our society measures the results of those decisions from the material perspective.”

  “We don’t seem to have the tools to quantify the alternative choices like contentment, serenity, peace, and self-worth to be able to counterbalance the instant gratification of the material rewards. Personally, I believe the ignorance of the value of those emotional rewards are a major contribution to the very ailments that your industry claims they alleviate. But I digress!”

  Marty jumped in, “I agree that those qualities substantially contribute to our health and Big Pharma brings some products to that arena.”

  “Agreed,” nodded Ric, “however, I am not suggesting a ‘throwing the baby out with the bath water’ proposition as the only option. Couldn’t a case by case approach be an alternative?”

  Marty nodded in agreement, but a rueful smile crossed his face.

  “What does that look mean?” asked Ric.

  Marty sighed, “My very short view into the pharmaceutical industry has taught me one thing, if nothing else. The patience required for long-term responsible testing is not a popular discussion in Big Pharma boardrooms. Wall Street demands returns and the shorter the delay to market, the better. They have even turned that motive into a complete marketing program.”

  Ric frowned, “I don’t understand.”

  “Just look at the disclaimers embedded in their advertising. Over time they have desensitized the public to all the possible reactions from their drugs. With all the claimed research, does it not seem odd that with further testing they could’ve removed some of those side effects instead of the body just saying ‘no’ to these foreign invasions? If that isn’t enough, they now are augmenting the initial cashflow by offering drugs to treat the effects of the first drug. Now that’s hutzpah! As sane as your ‘case by case’ suggestion sounds, unfortunately, it flies directly in the face of the single greatest obstacle … ‘greed!’ Ric, I am not sure that I could even begin to relay to you the money that is generated from the launch of a new drug.”

  “Does it cost a lot to get there? Yes! Does it take a long time? Yes! Is it monetarily worth it…? Oh yes! Is it physically worth it…? Well, statistically…who knows? Just as an example, look at the dramatic increase in cancer, autism, diabetes, high blood pressure, Alzheimer’s, and on and on.”

  Ric interrupted, “But isn’t the purpose of the FDA and the CDC to protect against that mentality?”

  Once again, Marty smiled, “Even with your intellect, education, curiosity, and common sense, you haven’t grasped the depth of the avarice. We talked of patience a while ago. The pharmaceutical industry has, for at least a half a century, been infiltrating and bending governments, educational institutions, and physicians’ organizations with the belief that science can, will, and has usurped mother nature.”

  Marty continued, "A vast percentage of new drugs are found in nature, either by natural healers or the drug community. The problem is that the drug community can ‘reverse engineer’ the natural product and then produce a patented synthetic without the unintended consequences. Thus, the disclaimers!

  "Combine that with the decades of systematic and constant denigration and criminalization of natural medicine practitioners, and we are left with doctors who are purposefully and woefully undereducated about naturopathy.

  “Doctors are so bombarded daily with volumes of new scientific information that they must trust Big Pharma, supported by what they see as the ‘protection’ of the FDA, NIH, and the AMA.” Suddenly, Marty stopped as he saw Ric smiling. “What?” he said.

  “Your little diatribe shows me that you are much more invested in the opposing view than you realized. With all the research that your company does, you have only been focusing on countering the arguments instead of weighing the pros and cons.”

  A heavy silence hung in the room for a full thirty seconds and finally, Ric spoke, "Marty, I suspect that rather than looking for legal advice, you are seeking someone you can trust in airing your doubts and concerns. I am more than happy to be that someone, but it seems to me, from your comments, you have pretty much made your decision and are just trying to accept it.

  “My suggestion would be to explore this further with Myra and then, perhaps, the three of us could meet to see where you go from here. However, I think this caution is necessary. From what I can garner from your comments, you are dealing with a very powerful, determined, and ruthless adversary, and caution is obviously in order.”

  ***

  The women looked up expectantly as Richard joined them at the table in the coffee shop. After greetings and introductions and coffee orders, they settled and Richard began, “I’m sure Clay has informed you, but I need to reiterate that any information that is disclosed or exchanged here is under strictest confidence and any disclosure could bring criminal charges against you.”

  Both women nodded in agreement.

  “OK. Fill me in.”

  Over the next ten minutes, Pam and Kelly retold their stories.

  “Well, I have to say that you both seem to have a definite bent for detective work. Getting that license number was brilliant. Do you think you were seen by the man?”

  Pam paused. It had never occurred to her before. She tried to recollect whether that was possible.

  “I suppose that’s possible, but I don’t recall.”

  Richard’s cell buzzed. He answered with a brusque, “Yes,” and listened for a moment. “OK. Good work. Text me the mug shot right now and let me know when we track a location.” Clay’s eyebrows rose in question. Richard clicked off and addressing Clay, said,
“They picked up a print off the glasses found in the washroom and got a hit. The mug shot is on the way.”

  Kelly and Pam listened politely. Just then, Richard’s cell ‘clinked.’ He glanced down, smiled, and held the phone for the women to see.

  Pam gulped audibly, “That’s him… that’s him. I’m sure of it.”

  Richard held up his hands, “OK. Now settle down. Are you saying that this is the man that was on the ship as well as the man you just saw this morning?”

  Yes… Yes," squealed Pam. Just then, Pam’s cell ‘chirped.’ She looked down and saw that it was Mr. Chiles. She looked at the two Agents. “It’s Mr. Chiles. I have to take this.”

  “Mr. Chiles?”

  “Where are you, Miss Styles. This is a work day, you know.”

  Pam blanched, “Mr. Chiles… I am so sorry. I got a call last night to meet Dr. Dearsome and I am with him now. I am so sorry I didn’t call you.”

  Tom could feel the fear creeping into his bones. “What the hell does he want with you. I’ve got a company to run.”

  “Yes, sir. He is just reviewing the events I witnessed on the ship.” Clay and Richard were listening intently and Pam was holding her cell so they could hear Tom’s side of the conversation.

  “I am almost finished. I should be there in a few minutes.”

  “Come and see me the minute you get here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They all sat in silence for a moment.

  Finally, Clay spoke, “Pam, we realize this is getting dicey, but we need you to try and function in your normal way while we sort out a game plan. We definitely can’t meet here again. We will communicate with you through Kelly when we need to get together. In the meantime, you go back while we talk to Kelly a little more.”

  Anxiously, Pam looked at Clay, “Do you think I am in any danger.”

  Clay quickly reassured her, “Not at all. Right now, Mr. Chiles has no idea what you have seen and although his normal paranoid nature will be active, you just have to stick with what you just told him.”

  Pam rose from the table, “OK.”

  “Don’t worry, Pam. With what has developed, we will have protection around you in the next couple of hours. Hopefully, you won’t see them, but they will be there. You are doing great.”

  Kelly got up and hugged Pam, “I will come up from time to time.”

  Hesitantly, Pam walked out of the coffee shop and headed across the street. She breathed deeply to calm her nerves. She couldn’t help but have a feeling of exhilaration mixed with a gnawing sense that she was in danger.

  ***

  Monk sat on the sofa with his head in his hands. What a fluke! How could she have been there? This is getting tricky and messy. Now I must take care of her. …and what about the other woman? Some serious planning was needed, which was the reason he had survived this long. The development of his disguising techniques was a large part.

  On occasions, he would catch a glimpse in a mirror or window and would not recognize himself. The talent had been developed when he was a child in New York. His mother was a Broadway ‘wannabe,’ so he spent hours backstage watching the actors and makeup artists practice their skills.

  One older gentleman actor had spent hours teaching him the subtleties of color and shading as well as artificially rearranging the face and body. He had even attempted to become an actor, but his mother quickly dampened that dream when she married a ne’er-do-well and moved to Dallas, ending his theatrical education.

  He soon fell in with a rough crowd and began his criminal journey, quickly learning that there were all types and shades of underworld denizens that could commit criminal acts, but eventually, because of their lack of intellect and planning, were doomed to either die a violent death or fade away in prison.

  His upbringing had left him with a total lack of empathy combined with a curiosity about death. He lacked the fear factor and labored under the egotistical fallacy that being caught was only a matter of poor planning.

  Additionally, his early exposure to theatrical magic taught him that diversion from the obvious was a strong tool.

  With that awareness, he started his plan. Why not begin where he was least expected – surveillance at Chiles, Arken, and Associates. He would have to take extra precautions because the woman, Pam, had already seen him twice. He also would need multiple, quick change tearaway costumes (with makeup) so he could do continuous movement.

  The familiar sense of adventure and excitement started to sweep through his body. This was going to be fun.

  ***

  Tom Chiles was between a rock and a hard place. The fear generated by Monk still chilled him. He didn’t know what the secret service was doing or had done. His instincts told him that more was happening than he knew and now here he was, staring at the name on his incoming call… Albert Ashbury, CEO of the 2nd largest pharmaceutical in the world.

  “Albert, how are you?”

  “Great, Tom. I have Frank Morrison on the line with us.”

  Tom grimaced, “Hello, Frank”

  “Hello, Tom,” Albert continued, “Tom, we were quite shocked, as we are sure you were, to hear about the sudden death of the congressman.”

  “Yes… we were all shocked. My team was at the table when he suffered his attack,” Frank spoke up, “well, I hope you all came through it unscathed.”

  Tom thought he heard an ominous tone in Frank’s voice.

  Albert interjected. “In that regard, I heard a rumor that the secret service has become involved.”

  Just what I need right now, thought Tom…a couple of paranoid piranhas nosing around. “Yes, and they are still involved. It’s their protocol to investigate any death of a sitting congressman. They are using my offices. I would imagine they will complete their investigation by tomorrow.”

  “So, you are not concerned about anything that transpired?” asked Albert.

  “Of course not, Albert. It was an unfortunate event but hasn’t affected any of our plans other than, dare I say it, the reduction of our time and efforts satisfying his continuous requests and charges.”

  “Excellent,” chorused them both.

  There was a brief pause, then Albert spoke, “How is our new cheerleader, Marty Cooper, reacting to all this?”

  “Excellent,” responded Tom, “if you want, I will suggest that he call you both. He has some extremely interesting products and services you could use.”

  “Yes… please, do that,” responded Albert.

  There was some background conversation and then Albert said, “Gotta run, Tom. Thanks for the update.”

  “My pleasure, guys.”

  They all clicked off the line. Albert looked across the table at Frank, “We need to watch him. He’s dangerous.”

  Chapter 17

  Rob Schafers put down his headset with a frown. It bothered him that he was still listening to the recordings from Marty’s home. Why had he not just cut off the feed?

  His break with Tom Chiles had at first been both disturbing and yet somehow, satisfying. He knew he had done the right thing and yet, he still couldn’t ‘let go.’ When he had installed all the ‘bugging’ equipment, he knew that he had stepped over the edge and here he was, still listening, and what he had just heard between Marty and Ric shocked him.

  Rob had assumed that Marty was still somewhat ‘drinking the Kool-Aid.’ Far from it. He obviously had fooled Tom, Derek, and Rob about his new leanings away from the Big Pharma philosophies…

  For some reason, this thrilled Rob. Marty was someone whose principals had not yet been totally corrupted, even in the face of the elevated life style and a rosy future.

  Rob felt a desire to further this kid along his path of integrity. But he was technically out of the picture. How could he help? He noticed that no one had previously listened to any of the recordings. He promptly erased the previous stuff and then reset the system.

  Now he needed to formulate a plan to warn Marty about the bugging. But how? By disclosing to Marty,
he was disclosing his involvement.

  Perhaps a ‘mia culpa’ was the best way to go. Hopefully, with Marty’s changing attitude, combined with Rob’s illumination, Marty would be better equipped to plot his future. …but it had to be done soon before Derek or Tom became suspicious about the late start on the bugging.

  ***

  Marty had slept badly after his conversation with Ric. Between the fear of losing what he had, and the bright future that was blooming, together with the continuous nagging from his conscience, he was a mess.

  Myra, at first, had badgered him relentlessly until, finally, he had broken down and actually cried as he imagined the bleak future. Expecting tears, admonishments, accusations, and hostility, he was shocked when Myra leaned over on the bed, grasped his chin, and boldly stared him straight in the eyes and said, “You are an idiot! Do you really think that our marriage depends on Cooper Consulting? I married you for who you are, not what you are! I couldn’t be prouder of you than I am right now. If we had carried on with you going against everything you believe, then that would guarantee the end. Yes, this is scary, but together we will be fine. Now get ready for work and we can work out a solution later. I love you.”

  Marty was speechless and never more proud of his wife than now. He shook his head as his cell brought him back to the present.

  “Hello… Marty Cooper.”

  “Marty, I don’t know if you remember me, but we met in the Chiles hallway one time. My name is Rob Schafers and I previously did consulting work for Tom Chiles and Derek Maurrel.”

  “Yes, Rob, I remember. What can I do for you?”

  Rob hesitated.

  “Hello, Rob… are you there?”

  “Yes… I am here, Marty. I have a matter that I need to discuss with you in strictest confidence, as soon as possible, and it requires that we meet outside the offices. That is all I would like to say at the moment. Do you know the I-Hop close to you?”