Race

by Mobashar Qureshi

  The water had turned white with visible chunks of what used to be the orange tablet resting at the bottom.

  “You can see,” Eileen began. “The tablet did not dissolve entirely. Just as it made contact with the water the tablet broke up into pieces and then fell to the bottom.” She pointed to the small clumps. “I have not stirred so most of the tablet dissolved on its own.”

  We moved to Exhibit B. The glass was completely clear.

  “It’s translucent. This sample has dissolved entirely but it took a good half-hour to do so. “We moved onto the last glass—Exhibit C. The tablet was completely dissolved but you could still see tiny white particles floating at the top.

  “Once the sample touched water it immediately fizzled and shrank. But there is still this white residue and a white film at the top of the glass.”

  She turned to us. “What we are seeing is the evolution of the sample. Whoever is trying to manufacture this is trying to produce the effect you mentioned. But from my experience it is not possible. I’m not saying it is impossible. With the technology these days I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “What’s in it?” Beadsworth asked.

  “I’ll show you.”

  Being inside the small room, filled with all sorts of equipment: beakers, test tubes, and other science equipment, I was getting claustrophobic. If I were forced to work in here I’d end up drinking one of those green or brown liquids just to escape.

  We went to another table and the analyst fixed a bright light on a ceramic plate.

  “I’ve scraped a bit off from each tablet,” she said. With a tiny scoop she placed a small amount of white powder onto the plate. “This scraping is from the orange pill—the earliest sample.”

  From a cool storage she pulled out a small glass bottle, “This is a Marquis reagent consisting of sulphuric acid and formaldehyde. I first saw it in Amsterdam. Now it’s widely used everywhere.”

  She tilted the bottle and discharged two drops of fluid onto the scraping.

  We waited.

  “No reaction,” said Eileen. “Good.”

  She pulled out another small bottle, this one not from the cool storage. “This is a Mandelin reagent.” She did the same as before by placing two drops on the scraping.

  This time the reagents rapidly turned dirty orangey-brown.

  “Just as I thought,” Eileen said. “It’s Ketamine.”

  Beadsworth nodded. He understood.

  “What’s Ketamine?” I said, looking around. I didn’t want to sound stupid but I had to ask.

  She said, “Ketamine is an anaesthetic used primarily by veterinarians. It’s a central nervous system depressant. Taken in higher doses Ketamine causes hallucinations and delirium. Numbness in the extremities is also common. So when you said the drug is supposed to numb, right away I thought of Ketamine, but I wasn’t sure. In liquid form it can be injected into the muscle and the effect can usually be felt within four minutes. If swallowed, the effects come from ten to twenty minutes, but only in higher concentrations. So it would be more viable to keep it in liquid form. Lets look at the second tablet.”

  She placed more scrapings on a clean ceramic tile and again discharged two drops of the Marquis reagent. The reaction was green.

  She looked at us with one raised eyebrow. “The color dyes of the tablets are an indicator of what’s in them. This contains caffeine and Ketamine. Caffeine being the prominent substance in the tablet.”

  “Caffeine?” I said. “The stuff in coffee?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Caffeine is a stimulant.”

  “I get it,” I said, as if I had just discovered the cure for cancer. “Ketamine knocks you out and caffeine brings you back in.”

  “In simple terms, yes.”

  I smiled at Beadsworth. Now look who’s smart.

  Eileen said, “Now for the last tablet. I can already tell you what’s in it.” She performed the same procedure using the Marquis and the reaction was blackish brown. “This tablet contains many substances, with Ketamine being the primary. My guess, the secondary substances would be caffeine and methamphetamines. These tests that I have performed only indicate the most prominent substance in the tablets. The Marquis test was made specifically for Ecstasy. So if there are any other substances the fluid might not change colour or react. Also, these tests don’t indicate how pure the substance is or how much of it is in the tablet, but it is a fine primary indicator. What I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t be surprised if it contained cocaine, speed, or acetaminophen.” She paused. “I’ll have to do a gas chromatograph mass spectrometer analysis.”

  “Uh?” I said.

  “The most accurate drug testing method available. It will tell us accurately what substances are in the tablets and how much.”

  Beadsworth touched his beard as if in deep thought. “What I don’t understand is, this isn’t something new or innovative.”

  “That’s what I thought too. We’ve had hundreds of pills or tablets that contain these kinds of ingredients. I’ve even had pills brought in that are sold as Ecstasy with just caffeine, sugar, and flu medications in them.”

  “A perfect cure for the common cold,” I laughed. But neither of them laughed back.

  “The only way it could be unique is if the delivery is as fast as it states,” she said.

  “But you said that is not possible,” Beadsworth said.

  “That’s right.” She pulled out the form Beadsworth had submitted. She adjusted her glasses and then glanced over it, reading it again. “I can’t see this doing what it says. It’s like any other tablet out there.”

  Beadsworth nodded and his eyes narrowed in contemplation.

  Eileen said, “I’ll provide you with a Certificate of Analyst when I thoroughly process the tablets.”

  We thanked her and left.

  ***

  The sign, BUBBLE T SHOP, had just been placed out in the front. From inside Martin stared out to the street across. He had leased the shop for six months. The plan was to set up several Nex labs all over Toronto. Instead of one large manufacturing plant, they would have several mini labs.

  The costs were large, of course, but the logic was that if one lab got raided the others would keep up production. With a product like Nex the costs were nothing compared to the profits. All that was needed was demand. Once demand was established, supply was no problem.

  Martin was on the phone now. The cops standing across the street had made him a little edgy. Many things made him edgy.

  For one, he was now unsure if the desired Nex could actually be produced. He was, in fact, becoming unsure of the whole scheme. There were too many factors he could not avoid. One: how potent Nex could be. Two: whether they could be the sole providers of Nex when it came out. Others would make generic versions of it. Three: whether Ms. Zee could handle such a massive operation. But how could he complain, with the kind of money he was being offered? Lawyers are a dime a dozen and this was good money.

  He shut the phone and closed his eyes. He had been arguing with Ms. Zee about moving the store elsewhere. The cops were too close. Their focus was on the building across the way, but in the end it’d divert to them. He’d advised they relocate as soon as possible. But Ms. Zee thought otherwise. The cops would not look under their noses. They were expecting Nex to be produced in a large building, not underneath a retail store.

  Then Martin thought of their informant in the police force.

  ***

  Driving back from DAS I was excited. This was just another regular, made-in-the-basement type of drug. Aldrich was getting all worked up about nothing. I turned to Beadsworth but saw that he didn’t share my enthusiasm.

  “Cheer up,” I said. “This isn’t as bad as we thought, is it?”

  Beadsworth didn’t answer.

  I tapped the steering wheel with my fingers. “We can cruise through this investigation,” I said. I was looking forward to wrapping this case up. I was also looking forward to Aldrich’s commitment that
once we had completed this investigation I would be transferred to the intelligence unit. I would fit in nicely in the intelligence unit.

  I smiled, the widest smile possible.

  “This isn’t right,” I heard Beadsworth say.

  His comments snapped me out of my happy thoughts. “How is it not right?” I said.

  “This could mean many things,” he started. “One, this is a decoy. Provide us with different versions of the drug, hoping that we will get off track. Two, the desired drug has already been produced.”

  I thought about it and it kind of made sense.

  I hadn’t known Beadsworth long enough, but now I could count on him to ruin my happiness.

  ELEVEN

  Next morning I was ready to leave the house when I got a call from Ronald Garnett.

  “Rupert, I’m going to tag along with you,” he said. This wasn’t a request, it was an order. “Pick me up from headquarters.”

  I was ready to make some excuse, like I was taking the subway, but thought against it.

  “Yes, sir,” was all I could say.

  ***

  The drive to headquarters was painful. I had to pick up Garnett there, who, in my opinion, was waiting to bite my head off, then drive to Scarborough and meet up with Nemdharry and Terries. Beadsworth would join us later.

  The lonely ride with Garnett was not going to be pleasant. What would we talk about? So Ronny, can I call you Ronny? Buddy, how’s it going? Sorry I screwed up your investigation. What’s one investigation when crime is everywhere? What’s four months? Maybe the next one will be quick; you might even wrap it up in one month.

  I found Garnett standing in front of the main entrance. He opened the passenger door with a bewildered look over his face. He tried, to the best of his abilities, to get into the car. Ronald Garnett is enormous. He is massive. He could be someone’s bodyguard or even a bouncer at a club.

  “You’re late,” he growled.

  “I had to stop at the red lights,” I said.

  He didn’t find my comment very amusing.

  I told him we were meeting Beadsworth in Scarborough. He made no comment, which was good. I didn’t want any small talk either.

  While I drove, I found my body gravitated toward him. In fact, the entire car seemed lopsided. Wait a minute. Garnett’s side seemed lower. Great, there go my shocks.

  “Can’t this toy go any faster?” Garnett said. It was ninety kilometre per hour on this highway. My car was barely going over eighty.

  I wanted to say, Get out of my car. You’re too damn heavy. Stop eating entire cows for lunch.

  I pressed harder on the accelerator. The car jerked and I saw the hand on the speedometer quiver and touch ninety.

  Happy? This vehicle will fall apart any minute. This is an economy class vehicle. It’s not a truck. It can’t handle your weight.

  “I don’t like you,” Garnett said. He turned to me. “I don’t have to like you.” He looked like a deranged bulldog.

  “I don’t like you either,” I said, but then all the data started bombarding my head: stuck in car with Garnett, driving fast on highway, no possible chance of escape. I then wished I hadn’t said that.

  “I don’t know why Sergeant Aldrich chose you but I think it was a mistake.”

  I thought it was a mistake too, but you wouldn’t hear me mention it to everyone.

  “You’re not even fit to give parking tickets,” he said.

  I think he was trying to provoke me. He wanted me to say something so Aldrich would dismiss me from the team. I wasn’t going to let him win so I just smiled.

  “What’re you smiling at?” he said.

  The smile on my face vanished. But inside, I was still smiling.

  “Just stay out of my way,” he finally said.

  Sure, I nodded. I had no desire to get pulverized.

  If ever I was in trouble I couldn’t see Garnett saving my ass. I couldn’t see him saving anyone else’s either.

  I don’t know how, but we reached Scarborough.

  ***

  Once Nemdharry saw our car approach he got out of his. He was surprised to see Garnett.

  “Morning, Ron,” he said. “Didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

  Garnett smiled and said, “Sergeant Aldrich wanted me to assist you guys in any way I can.”

  “How’s tight-ass doing anyways?”

  Tight-ass?

  I thought Garnett would lose his top but he replied, “Cut him some slack. He’s under a lot of pressure.”

  “I bet he is,” Nemdharry said.

  “It’s not his fault what happened.”

  “I don’t like working under him. Wouldn’t have minded if you were heading the operation.”

  Garnett just shrugged.

  “I don’t like his decisions,” Nemdharry said.

  Garnett looked in my direction. “Neither do I.”

  Subtlety wasn’t Garnett’s strong quality.

  “Anything?” Garnett asked.

  Nemdharry looked over at the building across and said, “I checked to see what LLPM stood for but came up empty. But I did find the company was registered two months ago.”

  Garnett said, “You said something about a white truck?”

  “Oh, yeah. We were able to get a better view this time. They brought in empty cardboard boxes—”

  “How’d you know they were empty?” Garnett asked.

  “They were flat sheets, you know. Later they were assembled, I guess. We did clearly see them load the truck with the boxes afterwards. Forty-five minutes later they were gone.”

  “Are they shipping Nex in those boxes?” I said.

  “Can’t say,” Nemdharry answered. “If a dealer could set up shop in the middle of city hall and not be caught he would do it. It’s all about finding that one way of getting away with it.” He scratched his clean-shaven cheek. “I wouldn’t open a clan lab here. No. There are too many people around. It’s too risky. But you can’t underestimate these guys. Hell. They might be thinking we won’t come looking for them here.”

  “How many people work in there?” Garnett asked.

  “I can’t say exactly. But last night a green minivan with tinted windows drove up, dropped a few passengers off, picked some up and left.”

  “Where’d they take them?”

  “To Kennedy Station.”

  “They could just be giving their employees a ride,” Garnett said.

  “Yeah, but there are several bus stops around here. They couldn’t walk up to the bus stops?”

  There was silence. We were all thinking about it. Something was definitely fishy.

  ***

  A GM station wagon drove up and in it was Beadsworth. He got out and came over to us.

  “How’s your kid?” Garnett asked Beadsworth.

  “He’s doing much better.”

  “Phil, what’re the results from DAS?” Nemdharry asked.

  “The samples contained some part of Ketamine.”

  “Special K,” Garnett answered.

  “K-hole,” Nemdharry shook his head.

  “Sorry?” I said.

  “Ketamine,” Nemdharry started. “The high, or K-hole, as it is called, can make you do weird shit. I remember,” he said laughing. “I had just started in the force and they put me on foot patrol. I got a call one night that some guy was committing suicide off a tower on Wellington. So I rushed over. When I got up, I saw this guy, hands on his knees, on the ledge, looking forty stories down. The guy looked respectable, nice suit and haircut and all. So I thought, maybe a stockbroker, probably lost all his client’s money. So I started talking to him, telling him life is worth living and that his family would miss him if he were dead. After five minutes of me talking he looked up and his face had this confused look. He smiled and pointed below. So I went over to the edge and looked down. All I saw were tiny cars and ant-like people. I told him what I saw. He got angry and shook his head. No. Look carefully. I did and I still didn’t see anything special.
He smiled and said all his friends were down there. I looked again. Maybe this whole stunt was to prove something to his friends? He said thousands of his friends were waiting for him down below and they were not from this planet. They wanted him to jump so that they could catch him. The guy was flipped. So I talked to him about his friends hoping to buy some time. Close to an hour later the guy comes to his senses.

  “Earlier he had gone into a club and snorted Ketamine. He remembered feeling like his mind had left his body and then a voice told him to go up to the tower and jump. He clearly saw green men with arms extended waiting for his dive.” Nemdharry’s eyes widened. “Weird, eh?”

  I nodded.

  Garnett spoke, “So what else is in it?” He was speaking to Beadsworth.

  “So far caffeine. We’ll find out the rest after the chromatography tests are done.”

  ***

  Ed Burrows paced the room, sweating from the exertion. “There are pages missing,” he cried.

  “What?” Ms. Zee said.

  “I’ve gone through the designs three times and sections are missing.”

  Ms. Zee was not amused.

  “The previous chemist was playing with pills and capsules, knowing full well that they would not provide the bust you require. At Bantam I heard they had invented this innovative delivery process…”

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  “I didn’t work on that aspect of the drug.” He shook his head. “I worked on how each ingredient reacted to the other. That is how I know the previous chemist’s formula works. His notes were very good. He had a clear model in his head.”

  “Get to the point,” Ms. Zee said.

  “But for some reason his last formula was different, as if he were going in another direction—or—altering the drug entirely.”

  It was more like he was sabotaging their operation, Ms. Zee thought.

  “With his initial designs and process in hand , replication would be no problem. But without the missing pages we can’t do that.”