9:00 AM found me at the office of my friend on the local police department. I had met him years ago when I was part of a law enforcement motorcycle club. I was working part time as a reserve deputy back then, and when I left that position, I had to forfeit my membership in the club. I had stayed in contact with some of the guys over the years, and Bill was one of them. It had come in handy when I ran for office as well.
"Good morning, Jack!" Bill greeted me enthusiastically. As he extended his hand. "Come on in! Still riding the scoot?"
"Carbs need rebuilding." I answered ruefully. "In all honesty, I just haven't had the cash. Making a living as an actor on the east coast doesn't go very far, and I was an honest politician, so I have no bribe money squirreled away."
Bill laughed at the last comment.
"Good to hear, because the guy I wanted to listen to this is the federal agent that busted the mayor several years back for fraud and accepting bribes. He'll be glad to know that."
We entered Bill's office, and I noticed a man in a dark blue suit seated against the wall. It was immediately obvious he was no detective, so I assumed he was the agent in question.
"Jack, this is my friend, Fred. Fred, this is my friend, Jack."
We shook hands and we all took a seat.
"So tell me again, what you told me over the phone." Bill said, as Fred opened a notebook and prepared to take notes.
I recounted what I had told Bill the night before, and I could see Fred nod slightly here and there. When I was through, Fred set the notebook down.
"I looked your patient up, and you're correct on everything you've told us." Fred informed me. "I verified it through the Louisville Field Office."
"Field Office," I echoed, "then you're with the FBI?"
He nodded.
"Does this come under your jurisdiction then?" I inquired.
"It does, for several reasons. Did you bring that thumb drive with you?"
"I did." I replied, handing it to him.
They watched the video and were amazed.
"It certainly looks like you two are interacting," Fred observed, "and she's definitely asking for help. I'll notify the US Attorney immediately to get warrants issued. In the meantime, I can get that IV bag to the lab for analysis."
"The one here is a lot closer." Bill interjected. "It's in the basement. We can be there in two minutes."
"Sounds good." Fred replied. "I'll put the call in on the way down."
A few minutes later, we were in the lab in the basement. A technician was advised of the situation and asked to run a full spectrum analysis of the liquid still in the bag. Thirty minutes later, we had our answer.
"Well," the tech began, "the contents are normal enough, it's what a typical IV would be. That's what's listed on the bag. What isn't listed on the bag, is a barbiturate called penobarbital."
"Those bastards!" I snarled. "She's been on that for two years. What's the ratio?"
The tech smiled.
"You know your stuff. Are you a doctor?"
"A nurse." I replied.
"Well, you're definitely keyed in. It's meant for short term medically induced comas as you know, but as you suspected, the ratio is off. Someone misplaced a decimal point. The normal dose would be detrimental, maybe even deadly, if administered for that length of time, but in this case it may not be."
"She's aware." I replied. "She knows everything that's going on around her. The smaller dose would account for that, wouldn't it?"
"It would."
"Tampering with medications is another charge." Fred added. "The original warrant will cover this when we find more bags like this. I just got a text from the US Attorney's Office. It's been approved, and someone is going to meet us there to serve those motherfuckers. Some heads are gonna roll now."
"Any way I can tag along?" I inquired.
"Jack," Bill interjected, "you are the key witness these warrants were pulled on. We need you to show us where those IVs are kept, and to introduce us to your patient. Damn right you're coming along with us."
About forty five minutes later, Fred, Bill and myself met up with several federal agents and uniformed officers from Bill's department, to converge on City General with a warrant issued by the local US Attorney.
"Okay Jack," Fred said authoritatively, "What is your recommendation on areas to cover?"
"The pharmacy." I replied. "You're looking for the head pharmacist named Phil Cassella. He's the puke that's been filling these bags. There's another pharmacist named Cindy that will assist you. We need someone posted outside Room 814 too. That's where our patient is located. No one gets to her until we do. That's my recommendation."
"And I'm making it official." Fred snapped. "You and you; cover the pharmacy and put Cassella on hold until we get there. If he gives you any crap, cite him for obstruction and cuff him. You two head up to 814, and make sure that no one goes into that room until we get there. The rest of you will come with me to serve this order."
He looked around and spied a hospital cop lollygagging by the front door and yakking on his cell phone.
"You there!"
The cop looked at him casually, but did not respond and continued talking on the phone.
"Yeah you, Deputy Fife. I'm talking to you. Where is the office of the president?"
"In Washington DC, Man." he replied smugly.
Fred strode over to the cop, with a stern look on his face.
"Let's try this again, Barney. I'm Special Agent Fred Grimes," he said, producing a small gold badge, "and unless you want to be cited for obstruction of justice by the FBI, you're going to take me to that SOB right now! Got it?!"
"Yessir! Why didn't you just say so?"
"I believe I just did."
The private cop led us through a maze of corridors on the first floor, until we arrived at a reception area divided by frosted glass with gold-filled etchings, and solid mahogany moldings. A receptionist looked up.
"May I help you?" she inquired.
Fred ignored her.
"Is he in there?" he asked of the cop, who nodded in response. "Good, let's go."
He then acknowledged the receptionist.
"Federal agents. We have search and arrest warrants."
"Hey!" she shouted. "You can't go in there! Mr. President! Mr. President!"
"Cite her!" Fred bellowed, as he burst into the lavish office.
A rather obese and balding man leaped from his chair at the intrusion.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded haughtily.
"Are you the president of this hospital?" Fred shot back.
"Yes, I'm President Edelstein."
I guffawed loudly at his remark. What a narcissistic prick! President Edelstein! Who the hell did this egotistical slob think he was? Leave it to Fred to respond accordingly though.
