The Cure

TONY DEACON HAD BEEN IN HIS office for close to an hour, lounging lazily at his desk. He was contemplating his next move and possibly what his team should focus on next. The file he had gotten from Dryden Pharmaceuticals didn’t seem to help that much if at all. He skimmed through it a few times, but it looked to be a dead end as all it revealed was that Carter was a part of some lame project to find a cure for the common cold. He looked at the file and then looked back at Melissa.

“This common cold!” Tony shouted out, “Is it for real?”

“Why not?” Dr. Jackson responded, “Do you have any idea how much money could be made if a pharmaceutical company owned the patent to the only cure for the common cold? That alone is enough reason to fund the research.”

“It’s also a public relations thing,” Wilson added, “It gives people the false impression that the company gives a crap enough to try. So, if people ask questions, they can tell people that they’re looking into it. It gives the big wigs something to say to avoid hard questions. Look over here, effort is being made.”

“So, this fluff project is just an excuse to make people go away?” Tony said with a slight disdain on his face. “And what’s in it for the doctors?”

“They get to work on a pork project that never expects results.” Wilson answered, “It’s like working on a vintage car that no one ever expects to see finished. Talk about no pressure.”

“What the hell motivates someone to take this project?” Tony asked, not really considering the most obvious reason.

“You mean besides the fact that student loans don’t pay themselves off?” Bruce quickly called back with a bit of sarcasm.

“Well, not yet at least.” Wilson said with a hint of bitter resentment.

“So, Doctor Carter here takes this job to make ends meet and keep the debt collectors at bay,” Tony said, thinking out loud, “But what happens that makes someone like this snap? I thought there was no pressure to get results?”

“That’s the sixty-thousand-dollar question, Tony.” Wilson countered.

Tony sat there, thoughts racing because something wasn’t adding up.

“There’s something missing,” Tony declared, “Something we’re not seeing.”

“Fraud?” Melissa asked as she was thinking out loud. “What if the money being allocated for this was being pocketed and really nothing was literally being done?”

“That’s possible, but I doubt that is the issue,” Tony said, scratching his three-day scruff, “Any evidence that we could have used for that would have gone up with the lab burned down. That is what’s really bugging me: if Carter was just working on some boring ass pork project, then why the opposition?”

“What do you mean, D?” Wilson asked.

“I get it,” Bruce asked, “The whole paranoia about taking this file. Why would they care about it if this really is just some shit project that no one cares about?”

Tony nodded and pointed at Bruce. “Exactly. No one gets that bullish about sharing information unless you have something to hide.”

“And you think it has something to do with this project concerning the common cold?” Melissa asked, “Sounds a little thin to me.”

“Maybe, but we need to look into it,” Tony said, hopping out of his seat, “If anything to eliminate it as the motive for his ‘going postal’ as Wilson so eloquently put it. We need to start talking to other companies, the competition. See if Carter or the people he worked for in that division talked about what they were doing and how far they had gotten with their research.”

“Do you think they would share that kind of information?” Bruce asked.

“If I know these medical dudes,” Tony replied, “They love to brag. If something big happened, they would not hesitate to let the other know about it and brag about it twenty-four seven. If progress was made in this project, someone definitely got it rubbed in their face. Let’s find that face and get the story about what was going on.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Wilson asked.

“Hit the database somewhere,” Tony suggested, “There had to be a wasteful conference somewhere about this. Any excuse for an all-expense paid trip to Tahiti on the company dime to talk shop about how everyone was wasting money on something that will likely never get done. That’s what I would do at least once a year. Look it up.”

Lisa seemed to be a tad impatient. “So, what else can we do?”

“We have to wait,” Tony replied, “Wilson is still working on those photos to trace some of the equipment that was his last hideout. There are leads but they take time to process. If we can get a name, we can see if they are rare and see if our man has made any new purchases. Once we have a golden nugget like that, then we hit the field. We don’t go on goose hunts because that was local cops are for.”

“Is this how you catch all the big fish?” Lisa asked.

“It is,” Wilson confirmed.

“In order to defeat your enemy, you must know them.” Tony said, tapping his head with his index finger. “I want every morsel of information I can get so when we are on the field, which will likely be sooner than later. We’re bound to get a kazllion tips once our boy is elevated to the top ten, and we’ll apply that to what we have and go through a series of ‘what would our boy do’ ideas and track his ass down like a bloodhound.”

“Besides,” Bruce started as he felt the need to chip in, “If we could figure out what he is doing or is working on, we could use that to figure out how he picks his victims and predict where he’s going next or narrow down our grids.”

Tony was just as impatient as Lisa was and wanted to hit the field, but without a solid tip or information, it was just useless to go out there just yet.

“Look I’m going to call it a night,” Tony called out, “I recommend you all do the same very soon. Tomorrow is going to be another long day. Wilson, keep looking into Dryden. I have a feeling that company is holding out on us. This skimpy file isn’t all they have.”

“No problem, D.” Wilson said as he kept working at his computer. “Do you plan on visiting that Audrey Black woman again soon?”

“I just might.” Tony answered as he walked towards the door. “So, make sure we have a warrant ready the next time it happens.”

“Will do, Tony.” Wilson said as he took a note. “Any particular reason why?”

“Because I made a promise.” Tony said with a smile. “And I’d hate to disappoint those corporate ass clowns.”