Bitter Pill, page 12
“Do we have any idea how much longer Avery’s team will be?” Annie asked.
Fergus checked the monitor screens for any updates. “Looks like tomorrow. Day after, the latest.”
“I’ll call my pilot and let him know we’ll be flying in a few days.” Annie added that to the list.
Maggie slumped in her chair. “You guys get to have all the fun in Annie’s private jet. I’m sure I’ll be sitting in front of some spoiled brat in economy class who likes to kick the seat.”
“Stop moaning. Instead of taking the shuttle, take the Acela to New York City from Union Station.” Annie stuck out her tongue.
“If you insist.” Maggie went to bite her nails but was stopped short by their unusually pristine condition and giggled. “Hmmm . . . This really is a good deterrent.”
Annie turned to her. “What do you have on the Thompson case?”
Maggie checked her laptop. “‘Lorraine Thompson, widow and mother, passed away at home of an apparent suicide. Family members said she had been very emotionally unstable as of late but were shocked that she had been despairing enough to have committed suicide. Her eldest daughter, Genevieve Ringwood, said her mother had been a bit manic but not necessarily depressed. “We would have done something about it if we had only known.”’” The article goes on to offer the usual bromides. ‘If you or anyone you know shows signs of depression, call the hotline.’
“I spoke to Mrs. Ringwood, who was very reluctant to talk to me on the phone, so I offered to interview her in person. She sounded a little . . . I dunno. Secretive? Like she was hiding something.”
“If anyone can get her to talk, it’s certainly you!” Annie chortled.
“I’m meeting with her day after tomorrow. She lives in Huntington, Long Island, so I’ll take a car from Penn Station. I asked her if she had any paperwork on Live-Life-Long, which seemed to spook her a bit. She stammered but said she would look through her mother’s papers and see what she could find. I thought that was very accommodating of her.”
“Very,” Myra said thoughtfully. “Perhaps she, too, has her suspicions but was afraid to voice them. Good job, Maggie. I’m sure once she meets you, she’ll spill her guts.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Maggie took a little bow.
Charles and Myra could hear the dogs making a yapping sound, signaling it was getting close to dinnertime.
“I think we have plenty to work with now.” Annie looked around the room. Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Let’s eat!” On that note, Maggie, with the voracious appetite, brought the meeting to an end, and each of the sisters gave a fist bump and hooted their slogan, “Whatever it takes!”
“Which includes feeding Maggie.” Charles gave the erstwhile newspaperwoman a wink.
The group saluted Lady Justice, climbed up the steps, and entered the delicious-smelling kitchen. Charles clapped his hands once and directed, “Fall to it!” That was the signal for everyone to perform their dinner duties, as well as for the dogs to line up for their evening meal. In less than thirteen minutes, the table was set, the dogs were fed, and the scrumptious casserole and side dishes were placed on the table.
They took a moment to say grace, and Charlotte added, “Dear Lord, bless these wonderful friends. I am so fortunate to have them in my life.”
A resounding “Amen!” filled the room. Lady and her pups echoed the sentiment with their version of prayer—little yowling and a yap.
Once the table was cleared and the kitchen sparkling clean, the women headed back to the war room to see what other information might have come in.
Chapter 24
Aspen
Avery Snowden put on a pair of overalls, a flannel shirt, and a hard hat. He could easily pass for a lineman. He jumped into the cab of the utility truck and headed toward Crystal Lake Road. When he came upon the estate, he parked the truck along the side of the road and put out an orange cone and a MEN WORKING sign. He hoisted the bucket to the level of the tree line to get a good view of the property. From where he sat, he could see the front and side entries of the house, as well as the four overhead garage doors. It was eight in the morning. Should be some action soon.
Within the half hour, Steinwood exited through the side door and pushed a few buttons next to the garage doors. The closest door to Avery slid smoothly up the tracks. He couldn’t get a good look inside, but what he saw was impressive. A glint of two very high-end sports cars from the reflection of the morning sun. Avery suspected there could be more. He definitely needed to get into that garage.
Steinwood pulled out the Jaguar and roared out of the driveway, just as he had done the day before. Avery quickly got out his small camera with the telephoto lens and snapped a photo of the cars before the garage door closed. He then sent the photo off to Charles who he hoped would be able to identify the cars. Avery waited several minutes before he brought the bucket down, then jumped out and walked up the driveway as if he belonged there. Cable service, if anyone asked. Getting past the cameras could be a problem. The layout of the garage did not seem out of the ordinary. It was the size of the garage that was striking. There were three doors on one side and three on the opposite side. The driveway wrapped around the building. He suspected there would be cameras on the other side, as well. He decided to move the truck to get a different vantage point. Maybe he would be able to see the other side of the garage.
Avery hopped back into the truck and moved it several yards and placed the orange cone and the sign behind it. This time he raised the bucket above the tree line and could make out a camera on the nearest corner. It was going to be a bit tricky, but he had been through worse. He simply needed to find out where the equipment that recorded the camera shots was kept.
Once he got back to his motel, he would check the electrical schematics again. It was possible he could jam the frequency. At least for a short time.
* * *
Eileen signaled to Avery that she was able to return to the London Live-Life-Long office. She was astonished that the lock on the rear door was incredibly easy to pick. But as Avery had discovered in Aspen, there was little information in the files. But there was a large vault in the closet of the corner office that begged to be opened. That exercise would have to wait until she got the all clear. Often, the sisters preferred to do the reveal themselves. It could get dicey. She did as Avery told her and planted a microcamera in the room that housed the vault. As she was planting a bug and camera in the rear office, she couldn’t help but notice what appeared to be white residue on the leather-topped desk. She snapped a photo and made her way out of the building.
Next would be Dr. Marcus’s flat. That should be easy enough. The Plimsoll Building had a rooftop conservatory where an event was held several times a week. She would dress appropriately for what would most likely be a fund-raiser. Her challenge would be finding an outfit that would work double duty. Chic enough for cocktails yet flexible enough for snooping. This was London. Almost anything would be fine. Probably the funkier the better. She thought of Emma Peel, the superspy from The Avengers. Maybe not quite a catsuit, but something definitely leather.
* * *
Avery returned the utility truck to the same parking lot he had left it in before, walked to the rental, and headed back to his motel. He had a lot of work ahead of him. First was to listen to the recordings from the office. Who came and who went and what was said. Second, he had to figure out how to disarm the cameras that faced the mysterious garage.
He flipped open one of his laptops and opened the audio files from the office. He had been able to plant a camera the size of a pinhead on the inside door of the closet that housed the vault. The hope was to be able to see what was inside the vault when it was opened.
Avery listened. “Good morning, Mrs. Kaplan.” The receptionist’s voice came across the recording loud and clear. “How are we feeling today?” Why do medical people always use the word we? Shouldn’t they know how they’re feeling? Avery had little patience with people these days.
“I’m feeling a bit sluggish, to be honest,” Mrs. Kaplan confessed.
“Well, Dr. Steinwood will have you fixed up in a jiffy. He’ll be right with you. Please take a seat,” the woman instructed. Avery could hear clicking. Probably her typing something into a computer.
A few minutes later, “The doctor will see you now.” A soft buzz could be heard, presumably opening the glass doors that led to the patient examination rooms.
Avery switched to the hallway microphone. “Good morning, Elizabeth. Feeling a bit peaked? Let’s see how we can make that better. Please, step inside.”
A quick switch to the microphone planted in the patient suite. Dr. Steinwood continued, “Tell me. How long have you felt this way?”
Mrs. Kaplan’s voice was just as clear as his. “A couple of days. I seem to have good days and bad ones. One day I’m fit as a fiddle, and the next, I’m just a wet noodle.”
“As I explained, it takes our bodies time to adjust to the synapses and integration of the protocol.” Steinwood was using some doctor babble on her. “Let’s check your blood pressure.” Steinwood buzzed for the nurse. “Sylvia, could you please come in here and check Mrs. Kaplan’s blood pressure?”
“Certainly, Doctor,” was the response.
“I’ll get your supplements while Sylvia takes your pressure.” Steinwood could be heard leaving the room as the nurse entered.
Avery followed the sound of Steinwood moving down the hallway and into the rear office. He heard the clicking sound of a door and switched to the camera, hoping Steinwood would open the vault, and he could get a look inside. Genius! Now, if Steinwood would only move just a few inches to the right, he would have a clear shot into the vault. Bingo! Hundreds of color-coded boxes filled the vault. Steinwood pulled a small portable table next to him and placed nine different boxes on it. As Steinwood opened each box, Avery could see eight green bottles with a numbered code. They looked like medications. The ninth box contained vials. Steinwood pulled one out. Next to the vault were shelves with beautifully decorated boxes. Steinwood placed the eight bottles in one of these boxes and then placed the box in a beautiful matching shopping bag. He put the vial in his pocket and reached for a syringe that was kept in a basket. After carefully locking the vault, he turned quickly. Avery was taken aback at how close Steinwood’s face came to the camera. Then the screen went dark as Steinwood turned off the light.
Avery went back to the audio files. Steinwood reentered the room in which Mrs. Kaplan waited. “Here you go, my dear.” Avery could hear the rustling of paper. Must be the shopping bag. “Now let’s roll up our sleeve for our booster shot.” Again, with the first-person plural? Avery shook his head. What a con job.
“Oh, Dr. Steinwood. I do appreciate what you are trying to do for me. I hope I start to see some results soon. At least get off this roller-coaster ride.” Mrs. Kaplan almost sounded apologetic that she wasn’t responding to the treatment faster.
“Now, now. Don’t you fret. It takes time. We’ll see you next week?” he asked kindly.
“Of course!” Mrs. Kaplan brightened. “Thank you so much. Have a lovely day.” More paper rustling, and Avery switched to the reception-area audio file.
In a matter-of-fact voice, the receptionist said, “That will be eight thousand dollars, Mrs. Kaplan.”
Avery almost fell off his chair. Those must be very special pills.
He fast-forwarded the recordings to see if there was anything else he could summarize for Charles. According to the timer on the recording devices, it was just around noon when Steinwood entered the reception area.
“Ladies, that will be all for today. Not to worry. You’ll get your full pay. I’m going to a car show in Las Vegas this afternoon. I’ll be back in two days.”
Avery sent a report to Charles, along with the video footage.
Vault holds what looks like different meds in green bottles. Also vials. All unknown substances. Color coded and numbered. Saw one patient today. Leaving for a car show in Vegas for the next two days. O&O (over and out).
Avery was pleased with what he had discovered. Looked like a pill mill, but where were they coming from? That would probably be a riddle for Charles and the sisters to unravel. Meanwhile, he would scope out the house and the garage. Car show. Now it was starting to come together. Just how many and how expensive? would be the next questions.
Chapter 25
Pinewood
Returning to the war room, all the women saluted Lady Justice, Charlotte included.
Charles checked to see if any additional information had come in. “Splendid. More intel.” Charles beamed. “Avery got a look inside the vault. Hundreds of boxes, all of which contained green bottles.” He turned the monitor so everyone could see.
“That’s just what mine look like!” Charlotte flinched in horror as Myra took her hand.
“And from the lab results, we have a pretty good idea what’s in all those bottles,” Nikki added. “Now the question that needs to be answered is, Where are the drugs coming from? Since these doctors are not licensed to practice where they have set up shop, these drugs could not have been obtained from pharmaceutical companies. That means they must be bootlegged.”
“Indeed,” Charles noted. “Avery also reported that he got a glimpse of what’s in Steinwood’s garage. He took a quick photo as Steinwood was leaving in his Jaguar. In the photo, you can see the partial hood of a Porsche nine-eleven and the Lamborghini insignia on another car. And Steinwood is heading to Las Vegas for a car show.”
Nikki checked her laptop to see if any more information had come in about the doctors’ holdings or the company itself. “Woo-hoo! Got some background info,” Nikki interjected. “The company is a limited partnership.”
“Please excuse my naïveté, but can you explain what that means? I’m just a children’s book author.” Charlotte giggled nervously.
“There are two classes of partnerships—general and limited. In a limited partnership, the partners’ assets are protected, in that their liability cannot exceed what they initially invested. The business itself does not pay income tax. Each partner has to file an individual tax return. However, the partnership itself must be registered with the state in which it conducts business. That brings me to this next bit of information. The Live-Life-Long paperwork states that it is a consulting business. There is no mention of alternative medicine. That keeps them off the FDA’s radar,” Nikki explained.
“Very clever men,” Myra said thoughtfully. “Do we know what each of the men invested?”
“Not yet. We’re working on banking records now.”
“Banking records? You can do that?” Charlotte was astonished.
“Let’s just say we have ways to get the information we need,” Nikki said.
“Goodness gracious. Sure sounds like it!” Charlotte was feeling giddy.
“From what Alexis and I could discover from their college records, Dr. Marcus was the better student at Ross. He excelled in chemistry. Dr. Corbett barely passed his courses, but he took online courses in business and marketing. Steinwood comes from old money, so we suspect he had the seed money for the operation,” Nikki said.
Annie jumped in. “Excellent. Let’s put these pieces together. The men met in medical school. Only one of them was a great student. Steinwood was a trust-fund baby, so he didn’t care all that much. Corbett was a wannabe socialite. He probably came up with the scheme, especially after seeing how the rich vacation in Barbados. And how many of them are dowagers looking for the fountain of youth? Marcus was a whiz but needed more experience in pharmacology. And where are most of the drugs produced? Mexico.”
Alexis continued what Nikki had started. “We contacted several obvious places of employment, under the guise of checking references. Corbett worked in the marketing department, Marcus in the labs, and Steinwood . . . Well, he had the worst record of all of them, getting fired from three different jobs at three different pharmaceutical companies. I guess he decided to hang out in Cabo San Lucas rather than work.”
“This was a meticulous plan,” Charles said pointedly. “And long range.”
“Let’s not forget the most important parts, devious and callous,” Myra added, her blood boiling.
The sisters murmured in agreement.
Charles continued sharing the most current information Avery’s group had gathered. “Eileen is attending an event tonight—”
“An event?” Myra interrupted with disdain. “We need her to do her job!”
“Easy, old girl.” Charles put a hand on his wife’s trembling shoulder. “The event is at the Plimsoll Building, which is where Dr. Marcus lives. There’s a rooftop conservatory on the thirteenth floor. His flat is on the tenth. Eileen will gain access to the building and will make her way to his place.”
Myra took in a deep breath. “But how will she know if the apartment is empty?”
“Ring the doorbell, dear.”
Hoots of laughter filled the room.
“Oh, Charles, I wish you wouldn’t patronize me.” Myra gave him a stern look. “But I suppose I’m very sensitive about this entire matter because it’s Charlotte.” She smiled at her friend.
“I don’t mean to be so much trouble!” Charlotte was teetering on the edge of tears.
“There, there. You are not trouble. I’m much more comfortable with details. That’s all.” Myra took another deep breath and managed to calm herself.
“Eileen has had a good look at the floor plan of Marcus’s apartment. She’ll know where to plant bugs and cameras. And she’s quick. Most likely, she’ll plant a listening device next to the entry door. She has the office wired, so she’ll know when Marcus leaves. She is a crackerjack at her job,” Annie pointed out, trying to defuse any additional anxiety.
“You’re right.” Myra reached for her pearls. “So, when are we leaving for New York?” She grinned at Annie.
