Another Whistle Blower

by Douglass, Carl;

  “What can we do? We can’t let that lone nothing of a worker-bee bring us down. I have some personal markers out to people who will be willing to tell me anything they know or can find out.”

  “Why would they do that, Martin?”

  “Some have dirty little secrets and involvements that I know about, and others will do it for the most common of reasons—filthy lucre. I will spread plenty of that kind of filth around, enough to tempt a saint.”

  “Or an FBI agent.”

  “Maybe—I’ll have to dig pretty deep for that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The morning after her very pleasant date with Hiram Ledbetter, Caitlin finds herself unusually light-hearted. To increase that feeling, she makes a big breakthrough facilitated by her being allowed to work hand-in-glove with Special Agent Ruth Zolkowsky in the FIC [Financial Intelligence Center]. The FIC is a unique proactive data exploitation unit within the FCS [Financial Crimes Section], able to move very rapidly through the morass of bureaucracy to get protected information. The IA [Intelligence Analysts] and the SOS [Staff Operations Specialists] love to go after the bad guys and don’t mind cutting corners with the wide latitude their mandate affords them. The FIC’s mission is to provide tactical analysis of financial intelligence datasets and databases by using evolving technology and data exploitation techniques, to identify potential criminal enterprises—which to them certainly includes the consortium—and to enhance investigations. They are enthusiastic to enhance this investigation and to use their established liaison relationships with other government and regulatory agencies to identify additional data sources to disrupt and dismantle this criminal enterprise. They are happy to share with Caitlin once she is able to verify her bona fides.

  Two of the FIC’s favorite subprograms are health care fraud and money laundering; and half an hour after talking to Ruth, Caitlin is able to get into the consortium’s finance section network. That yields page after page of clear text evidence of money laundering.

  She shows the evidence to Hiram, who says, “Bingo! And I just thought you were nothing more than a pretty face … etcetera.”

  His smile is broad, and hers is broader. She recognizes that something is happening, and it feels good. Maybe scary, but good.

  On June 29, Cecil and Andrea take the modern white Gozo Channel Ferry from the main island of Malta to spend the day in Mġarr Harbor on Gozo, the second largest island in the Malta archipelago which makes up the republic. The island sits in the Mediterranean southwest of Sicily. They take a picnic; so, they can get lost in the crowds and enjoy Mnarja, one of the most important dates on the Maltese cultural calendar. It is a national festival dedicated to the feast of Saints Peter and Paul. Its roots can be traced back to the pagan Roman feast of Luminaria, with torches and bonfires lighting up the balmy early summer night.

  While waiting to walk aboard the Gozo ferry, Cecil begins to feel uneasy. He knows he is safe. Ivory White and Quince Longely are roaming around the port checking things out. That should make him feel secure. He sees what he thinks—or imagines—is a familiar face. He strains to remember. Then, he breaks out in a sweat and has the electrical feeling of surging adrenaline. He thinks he recognizes the sinister face of David Nelson. The man has a broad brim straw sun hat, typically tourist. His shirt hangs out over the waistband of his pants. When he turns away Cecil is sure he is seeing a lump showing in the man’s low back covered by the oversize tropical shirt he is wearing. The lump shouts gun to Cecil, but he cannot be sure. The man he thinks of as David Nelson from the special operations division of the consortium has melted into the close packed crowd pushing its way onto the ferry.

  Cecil says nothing to Andrea. It could not have been Nelson that he saw. The WITSEC program is locked as tight as a safe. Nobody leaks information. Nobody allows him or herself to be followed—after all, even the consortium is not able to follow every person. Right?

  The ferry disembarks its passengers in Mġarr Harbor. They take one of the Hop-On, Hop-Off buses to Victoria. The island itself is more rural than the island of Malta. There is not much to see on Gozo, mainly rolling green hills. It is hot.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to live here, Cecil?” Andrea asks, looking wilted and a little forlorn.

  “Don’t know. All I do know is that we won’t be back in the states until I have to start testifying.”

  He keeps trying to cheer her up as they go around to see the few available tourist spots: Azure Window is a remarkable and very frequently photographed geologic feature of the island; it is a natural stone arch formed millions of years ago when a limestone cave collapsed. They saunter along the pristinely clean beaches and walk around several of the popular seaside resorts. They buy lunch from local Gozitans and find a shady place to have a siesta. Ivory and Quince have been joined by Able. They are very observant, and they take considerable care not to be observed.

  As the sun goes down and darkness approaches, the crowds begin to wake up and to mill about. They head for the highest of Gozo’s low hills where the Luminaria fireworks display will take place. Their three guards find places where they can see the Edgingtons well and where they can get to them immediately if they have to.

  Cecil strikes up a conversation with a local man, a dentist. The dentist observes that the two of them are wearing identical wide-brimmed straw hats from stores in Malta. There is a large crowd, happy and inebriated. The dentist is jostled into Cecil and knocks off his hat. As Cecil bends over to pick up his hat, the unfortunate dentist is shot in the middle of his forehead. The din of the crowd is so great that no one seems to have heard the shot. Only the people pressed in around the Edgingtons are even aware that something untoward has happened.

  Andrea looks as if she is going to scream; so, Cecil puts his hand over her mouth and pushes her to the ground. She tells him to take off his hat. She is sure the man is dead because he is wearing the same hat as Cecil, and Cecil is the target.

  “I didn’t tell you before, but I think I saw David Nelson in the port of Malta when we were getting ready to get on the ferry.”

  That is enough for Andrea.

  She yells loud enough to attract the attention of the people in a fifteen-foot diameter concentric circle around them, “IVORY!! IVORY!!”

  Ivory, Quince, and Able are at their sides in a few seconds. Able pulls Andrea to her feet, and Cecil and the bodyguards plow through the crowd like a powerful set of offensive linemen. The men try to see where the shot came from or who the shooter is. Both questions have no answers. Ivory pushes his charges back to the ferry that is about to leave the island. Cecil tells him about seeing David Nelson. Ivory pushes the Edgingtons roughly into the restrooms and plunks Abel and Quince in front of the doors. Ivory roams the ship to see if he can find any faces to match the photos he carries in a folder he keeps handy all the time. He is neither surprised nor upset to find that he is unsuccessful.

  Back in Malta, the Edgingtons and the McGee bodyguards move in a blur of speed. They all pack only their essentials, and Ivory makes flight arrangements. He reserves five seats on the next flight out of MLA [Malta International Airport], which happens to be on Alitalia headed to Palermo, Sicily. It is bewildering to the Edgingtons, and it is going to get worse. Now the five of them are veritable fugitives. Ivory moves Henry and Gladys Hewittson—the aliases for the Edgingtons—five separate times with stays in out-of-the-way small hotels for one or two nights at a time. Along the way, he contacts McGee and the marshals’ service. When they finally land at New York LaGuardia airport, they are met by Marshals Fred Leahy and Tom Washington. The marshals take over security, and Ivory and his men follow in a car McGee has ready for them. They meander around the streets of New York until they eventually end up in front of St. Anne’s Orphanage in Red Hook, a run-down neighborhood.

  Sister Ophelia is expecting them thanks to McGee’s explanation and arrangements. The Orphanage is to become their hideout and refuge until Cecil’s first court appearance. That appearance i
s scheduled for two weeks hence. The assassination attempt has put the consortium case on a fast track.

  Florida state police hold no-knock warrants to complement those prepared by the FBI, the SEC, the NYSE, the IRS, and the US Marshal’s Service. At midnight on the twenty-third of August, a small army of Miami SWAT, FBI Rapid Response Teams, and prosecutors from multiple jurisdictions gather. Similar gatherings are taking place in eighteen other major cities in a dozen states. In Florida, teams are dispatched to the homes of the principal-named persons of interest. There are a hundred warrants for John Does just in case.

  DDFBI Russell Gaspero is number one, and his lieutenants are from all of the law enforcement agencies involved. Gaspero checks the readiness of everyone in Miami and around the country. McGee and his partners are in the second, more protected ranks. The seconds tick slowly away until Gaspero is satisfied.

  He then speaks crisply into his radio-phone, loud enough for the men and women around him to hear, “Go!”

  The raids go off with military efficiency and precision. Flash-bang grenades, smoke bombs, a cacophony of shouting law enforcement voices, and the spectral figures of gas-mask faces charge into the consortium headquarters, the offices and plants of the associated pharmaceutical companies, and into the homes of twenty-five suspects around the country. As this is about white collar crime for the most part, they meet with no resistance. The agents and law enforcement officers collect truckloads of data, computers, laptops, flash drives, and loose papers. Yellow crime scene tapes festoon many Miami and other big city neighborhoods. The roundup nets nearly three-hundred thoroughly chastened suspects who are herded into claustrophobic black police vans.

  The DDFBI has prearranged for the captured individuals to be transported to the prison facilities at Quantico. There they are divided into major and minor suspects. The minor suspects are segregated into a single huddled mass of people in a poorly ventilated fairly dark room and told to prepare to be strip-searched. Men and women are segregated into separate areas and given a thorough body search, including their cavities. The naked people feel like Jewish concentration camp victims and are thoroughly humiliated. Russell Gaspero’s only serious regret is that both CEO Martin Dilworth and consortium special services director, David Nelson, escaped his net.

  The major suspects are placed in separate cells, strip-searched, and left to twiddle their thumbs until the next afternoon while the army of prosecutors assembles the very unhappy minor captives for a Dutch uncle talk.

  Deputy attorney general of the United States, James M. Cruthers, walks into the large grey room and begins to talk without any attempt at friendliness. He is flanked by three large DOJ security guards.

  “I am the DAGUS. You have been the subject of a very extensive investigation prior to today. Our problem in terms of evidence is that we have so much that it will cost the government a small fortune to collate and evaluate it all. The crimes committed are clear and well established. Most of it is white collar crime which is—in a nutshell—lying, cheating, and stealing. There are much more serious crimes ranging from perjury, money laundering, health care fraud, all the way up to premeditated murder.

  “We presume that there are varying levels of guilt in this room and that there should be differing punishments. We need some help to make our progress swifter and more exact. So, this is the deal: the first among you to come forward with credible evidence—especially evidence that incriminates the higher ups and decision makers—will receive considerations and plea bargains ranging from lessened sentences, probated sentences, and perhaps to various levels of immunity. The major premise we will be working from to make such considerations is that your allocution of guilt and communication of helpful state’s evidence is absolutely true with nothing withheld, slanted, exaggerated, or self-protective.

  “We will give special consideration to a plea bargain for anyone who can give us information leading to the capture, arrest, and conviction of Martin Dilworth and/or David Nelson. My fellow federal prosecutors and I will be in offices just outside the locked doors. You may knock if you have good information; it will go badly for you if you attempt deception. That is all.”

  Cruthers turns and leaves the room. There is a hush, followed by a low continuous murmur, then men and women by the dozen line up to knock on the door. They are kept waiting while Cruthers and several other prosecutors offer some variation or other of the plea-bargain discussion to the major suspects. That brings on the first major breakthrough.

  Tenelly Outhower says, “I can give you David Nelson. I know where he is, and I have documentary evidence that should lead to his conviction for first-degree murder.”

  “I’m listening,” says the deputy director of the Department of Justice.

  He listens for half an hour, then summons his chief investigator who smiles and promptly leaves the room.

  “Can you give us Dilworth?”

  “No, I was not aware that he abandoned ship until you told us. However, I think I know who does. His secretary for the past fifteen years is a woman named Carol Wright. If anybody knows where the CEO is, Carol will. She will resist, but she won’t take the fall for her boss.”

  Cruthers leaves Outhower and walks directly to the large room.

  “Which one of you is Carol Wright?”

  A middle-aged, well-dressed greying patrician woman steps forward.

  “Come with me.”

  Cruthers tells Ms. Wright what the government has on her.

  “Give us Martin Dilworth.”

  “Give me a deal I can’t refuse.”

  “Any aliases, current whereabouts, all of his skeletons.”

  “Complete prosecutorial immunity. I will need protection. My life won’t be worth a nickel if my part in bringing Mr. Dilworth to justice is ever known.”

  “I’ll give you all of that and witness protection program, but that is contingent on your information being instrumental in bringing the man to justice.”

  “Let’s see that on paper.”

  Cruthers shakes his head, but writes out the immunity and WITSEC guarantee in his own hand. He underlines the contingency aspects.

  “He’s in Scotland under the name of Angus McTavish, III. I’ll write down all of the particulars. I even have his secret Cayman Islands bank and account number.”

  “Where is David Nelson?”

  “I don’t know that, but his lover, Tenelly Outhower, does. She gave him the information about who had to be killed. She is almost certainly going to go to him as soon as the smoke clears.”

  Cruthers passes the information on to Russell Gaspero. He calls McGee and asks if he can get the DCIA, Sybil Norcroft, to find Dilworth and Nelson in Europe where they are living lives of luxury on their ill-gotten gains. She is more than willing, and in less than a week, the two men and their closest associates are in custody, and arrangements are underway to extradite them back to the United States.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The press has a field day both in the short-term and the long-term. The final revelations result in 128 individuals being convicted of a grocer’s list of crimes: health care fraud, money laundering, financial institution fraud, securities fraud, public corruption, fraud against government, filing false claims against the government, willful and wanton disregard for life by healthcare providers as individuals and as corporation executives, perjury and subornation to perjury, lying to the IRS, failure to pay taxes, keeping false IRS and stock exchange records, RICO statute violations, operation of an ongoing criminal enterprise, price fixing, bid rigging, collusion and conspiracy, knowingly inflating the price of drugs, taking kickbacks and bribes, underpaying rebates under the Medicaid program, underpaying Medicaid, overpaying pharmacy reimbursements, abuse of testing initiatives, pharmaceutical manufacturers for knowingly reporting materially inaccurate Average Manufacturer’s Prices—AMPs—for their drugs, false and inflated Average Wholesale Prices—AWPs—criminal upcoding for diagnoses and procedures, and finally twenty-one acts of first-de
gree premeditated murder.

  In aggregate, the 128 people receive over two thousand years in prison, pay fines personally of nine billion dollars and corporately of sixty-seven billion dollars. Three people receive sentences of life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. Six people commit suicide. Eight businesses declare Chapter Seven bankruptcy. Federal and state governments finally collect a staggering eighty-billion dollars. Nevertheless, the people of the United States are left to cover an additional fourteen billion dollars. It is the largest case of health care fraud in US history.

  There is a positive note. Cecil Edgington is given complete immunity from prosecution; and as a whistleblower, he is paid thirty percent of what the government retrieves, tax free. That amounts to a rounded off figure of twenty-six billion dollars. His attorneys net five billion dollars, leaving Cecil with only twenty-one billion. The nation’s press, university professors, economists, and members of John Q. Public raise serious questions about the legitimacy of whistleblowing, the moral responsibility of whistleblowing, and the appraisal of the institutions of whistleblowing as issues of political ethics. Ideas about whistleblowing are found to vary widely.

  On the one hand, whistleblowers are seen by some as selfless martyrs for public interest and organizational accountability—white collar heroes for government and the little people; others view them as traitors and/or defectors. The Edgingtons are accused of solely pursuing personal glory and fame like Edward Snowden, or criticized for their behavior as motivated exclusively by greed for entering into a qui tam case. Cecil Edgington for the most part holds his piece. His only comment—offered on the Katie Couric show—is that such accusations might be expected of wrongdoers whose wrongdoing has been exposed. His parting remark is that he sleeps perfectly well at night.