“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.”
“We’ll deal with that if and when it happens. We can always blame the elevator company. In the interim, you should attend the wake and the funeral service. Everything needs to look normal. Understand? Make sure your damage control is thorough. If this guy was a snitch and I’m pretty sure he was, the authorities will be watching what we do. I wish I knew who he was working for. That would make damage control a whole lot easier. Do some more digging.”
“I’ll set everything up as soon as we’re finished. Is there anything else?”
“Yes, there is. We’re expecting another shipment from Jersey within a month. Prime stuff, top ten and loose.” Melbourne was speaking in code, referring to a bulk shipment of high quality counterfeits of the top ten pharmaceutical drugs. “We’ve got a major stake in this. We’re talking multi-millions and some important people depending on us. No slip-ups this time. Is that understood, Marco?”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Mister Melbourne. This time I’ll switch trucks at a secret location. I’ll bring the product into Atronen on trucks we usually use to receive packaging materials. That way the deliveries will look like scheduled shipments. We’ll intercept the outbound trucks, send them on a diversionary route to a secret facility, where we’ll cross-dock the goods to moving vans. The original drivers won’t know any of the details until we intercept them on the road. One of my men will be with each of them at all times to assure that there is no communication with anyone after we make the switch. It will be like handing off a football in the backfield.” Marco enjoyed using football metaphors whenever he could. “Of course, the final vans will be manned by hand-picked operators under the strictest security. I know it will work.
“Besides, I think that last shipment’s failure was a fluke. I’m not even sure that it was really intercepted. According to reports that I’ve read, the police cruiser just pulled the van over for a routine traffic violation. The driver knew what he was carrying, so he panicked and ran off. That gave the cops probable cause for searching the vehicle. It was all preventable is all I’m saying. Thank God the van was unmarked and they never caught up with that driver. Anyway, this new plan is absolutely foolproof.”
“For your sake, Marco, it better be. It doesn’t really matter what happened last time. I only care about the results. We can’t afford any more mistakes. Do you get me?”
“You can count on me, sir,” he replied as he put down the phone.
Marco didn’t like the tone of Melbourne’s voice, but he knew where it was coming from. The stakes were getting higher. The Feds were making life more difficult. That made it necessary to continually find new sources and businesses. More and more, Marco was thinking that maybe it was time to cash in his chips and leave the game. He had enough money stashed away to disappear somewhere and live very well. Of course, it was not as much as he would have wanted. Also, there was danger in such a move, since he knew so much. Some of the biggest names in the history of the crime families managed to pull it off, moving to Florida, upper New York State, New Jersey or out west and they were living easy. Their operations were taken over by family members or whoever won the power struggle that ensued after their vacancy. No one was concerned about them talking. They could live without any fear of retribution.
It was different with him. He was too low on the totem pole. His departure would be looked on with a good deal of concern. He knew that he would immediately be suspected of skimming off some of the cartel’s money. If his whereabouts were known, he would live in constant fear that someday be would be considered another “loose end”. If he just vanished, there would be the suspicion that he may have ratted and was under “protection.” No place on earth would be safe if they wanted to find him.
This was really a catch twenty-two. He would have to keep working on it. Something was bound to show up. At the moment, however, Marco had more important things to do.
CHAPTER SIX
The day was just getting started for Adelle Manning. She opened her plastic pill-minder box and removed several of her meds and vitamin pills.
Adelle could best be described as dowdy; a far cry from the beauty she was sixty years ago. Now in her eighties, life is a constant struggle for her. She lost her first husband in a bizarre shooting at a restaurant; a robbery gone bad. He was there to pick up a dinner as a surprise for Adelle for their fifteenth wedding anniversary. It was ironic that when she received the call from the police department, she was just putting the finishing touches on the surprise dinner she was preparing for him.
Number two died three years ago from a brain tumor. The elapsed time between diagnosis and his death was only seven months. Both marriages were childless, leaving her completely alone. She was determined not to go through another marriage and turned instead to her religion for solace. A Roman Catholic from birth, Adelle had been on and off with her faith. Her first husband was very devout, attending Mass every day. She did her best to go to church with him on Sundays and Holy days, but she had absolutely no interest in going to daily Mass with him. When he died, she had a High Mass said for him and that was the last time she went to church until she married number two. When number two passed away, she had the obligatory High Mass said for him. This brought her an unexpected turn. During the Mass, Adelle had an “epiphany.” It was a warm all-over feeling that she was convinced was a visit from the Blessed Virgin. At least that was the explanation she gave to her confessor, Father John.
“Mary invited me back to the church,” she was quick to relate. “She wants me to join the Rosary Society and set up a shrine in my home.”
Father John encouraged her to just follow her heart. Adelle Manning did just that. She joined in many special activities at St. Bartholomew’s church in Cleveland Heights. She participated in bake sales and fund drives-wherever she was needed. While this activity exposed her to the company of other women, many of whom were also widows, she mostly kept to herself. Her one true friend, aside from Father John, was Mary, the mother of Jesus. Her parlor at home became a shrine to Mary. Reciting the rosary occupied a good part of her day. Often she tuned in to a show on TV and prayed
along with the sisters for hours at a time. Religion was now her reason for living. She no longer thought about husbands or marriage. She found her solace in the Catholic Church and with the Virgin Mary.
Adelle poured a glass of orange juice and began taking her pills one at a time. There were seven in all: a water pill, a multi-vitamin, a calcium pill and meds for blood pressure, cholesterol, arthritis and her heart rhythm.
It was the last one that would be a problem today. Two weeks ago, during a Rosary Society meeting, Adelle struck up a conversation with another widow, June Abbot, about the high cost of medicine and the “donut hole” she was about to enter with her Medicare Plan “D” plan. Adelle needed to take medicine for arrhythmia, which had been detected soon after the death of her second husband. Her prescription outlay was putting a strain on her fixed income. June suggested an alternative that could save Adelle over twelve hundred dollars a year. June had a friend that worked in the pharmacy at the Lucky Food Mart. He could supply her with any prescription drug for one half of what the pharmacy was charging. Even though it would be outside her Medicare Insurance Plan, she would still save enough to make it worthwhile.
A ninety-day supply would be delivered through June in unlabeled bottles. Adelle agreed to give it a try, and June met her two days later for coffee to make the exchange. Today was her third day on the new pills.
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