“I’m hoping you mean five thirty this afternoon,” Platt had said looking at his bedside alarm clock that read three forty-five.
“Very funny. I’ll see you there.”
Now seated in first class beside the CDC chief, Platt was pleased to see that Bix looked even worse than he did. Bix’s hair was tousled and his eyes were bloodshot. But Roger Bix in a suit and necktie was serious business even if the tie hung loose. The jacket had come off as soon as they stepped onto the plane and was sent away with a flight attendant while Bix rolled up his shirtsleeves and shoved them above his elbows. Platt wore his uniform as instructed, but he had surrendered his jacket to the flight attendant, too.
It wasn’t until they were in the air that Bix started to explain why they were making an early-morning flight to Chicago.
“I think our friend”—
“What announcement?”
“You didn’t hear the news?”
“I went to USAMRIID then home.”
“The secretary of agriculture himself said that the school contamination was caused by a negligent kitchen worker who was being suspended.”
Platt thought about poor Velma Carter. “How did they come up with that? We didn’t even mention the woman at our meeting.”
“Exactly why our friend is pissed. So he’s given us a bigger piece of the puzzle.”
“In Chicago?”
“A processing plant on the north side. They get scraps and chunks of beef from various slaughterhouses, combine them, then grind them up. They take the ground beef and make it into patties, meatballs, spice it up for tacos.”
“Let me guess, those get shipped off to schools.”
“If only it was that simple.” He pulled out a thick file from his briefcase. “I’ve been trying to make heads or tails out of this mess.”
“You’re assuming it was the beef in the taquito that was contaminated?”
“Not assuming.”
“Your guys found something?”
“I can’t frickin’ sit around until you lab nerds finish studying your crap and vomit slides. I pushed our anonymous caller. He was feeling slightly guilty. That ridiculous statement from the USDA pushed him to tell me where to look.”
“He told you it was the beef?”
“Suggested. Not told. My lab nerds are checking it out this morning.”
“So why do we need to go to Chicago?”
Bix shrugged. “Maybe this guy isn’t really a whistle-blower. Maybe he just wants to yank our chain. But I got the feeling giving us this tip was huge.”
“So did you have time to check out this processing plant?”
“Family owned. Been in business for fifty years. I tried to pull up the inspection records at the USDA, and get this—I was told that information was only available by filing a request through the Freedom of Information Act because the records must contain ‘proprietary information.’”
“Why don’t they just black it out?”
“That’s what they will do once we’ve filed our request.”
“I thought Baldwin was going to make everything available?”
“That’s what she said, didn’t she? However, I couldn’t reach her this early in the morning. Got her voice- messaging service. Told her to fuckin’ call me. We need an immediate notice to all schools about beef products and we need a recall.”
“So?”
“Didn’t hear from her before I had to switch off my phone.”
“She seemed genuine last night. Give her a chance to do the right thing.”
“I am. But she has less than forty-eight hours.”
FORTY-FIVE
Mary Ellen hated leaving her husband and son fast asleep. She had barely gotten to see the two of them last night before bedtime. And now, on a Saturday morning, she was back outside the conference room, all props sorted and collated, coffee and Danish laid out. Everyone was here, except for Irene Baldwin. Once again, she was keeping them all waiting for an emergency meeting she had called.
Mary Ellen felt on edge. It didn’t help matters that she had allowed herself three coffees already this morning. Her stomach burned and her nerves were stripped raw. She wanted to be angry at Benjamin Platt and yet all she could think about was how good the bastard looked. She should, at least, take pleasure in his obvious misery when he discovered that she was married and had moved on.
Last night, lying in bed she told herself that she was the luckiest woman in the world. She had been given a second chance at having a family. When she closed her eyes she was shocked that all she could think about was Benjamin Platt and remember so vividly what it felt like to have him make love to her. She rolled over and cuddled into her husband’s back, pressed her cheek against his shoulders, and begged for sleep.
“Wychulis.”
Baldwin’s heels clicked up the hallway. She looked like a woman who had slept eight hours and, unlike Mary Ellen, didn’t need three cups of coffee this morning to get her moving. But on closer inspection Mary Ellen saw that her boss’s attempt at concealing the bags under her eyes had not been totally successful.
“Have you heard from the secretary?”
“No.”
“Of course not. He makes a ridiculous statement, and we’re supposed to deal with the fallout.”
Mary Ellen remained quiet. She knew her old boss must have had the necessary evidence before releasing his statement to the press.
“Are we ready here?”
“Yes.”
Baldwin opened the door to the conference room and stopped. She stayed in the doorway and Mary Ellen almost bumped into her.
“Good morning, everyone. Thanks for coming. We’ll be right with you.”
Then Baldwin closed the door again and waved for Mary Ellen to follow her down the hallway.
“Who the hell are all those people?” she whispered.
“You asked to convene the Recall Committee. These are all standing members.”
“There must be a dozen people in that room.”
“Actually fourteen. Joseph Murray brought two of his techs and Karena McFerris has her deputy field inspection manager with her. What exactly are we going to talk about recalling?”
“Ground beef that the USDA bought specifically for the school lunch program.”
“You do understand we won’t be able to actually order it. All meat recalls are voluntary. We negotiate with the supplier.”
Obviously Baldwin did not know because the look she gave Mary Ellen was one of disbelief.
“You’re telling me the FDA can order a recall on a defective toy that might hurt children but the USDA cannot order a recall on contaminated meat that could kill children?”
Mary Ellen controlled her frustration.
“Our agency is to assist producers as well as protect consumers.” She shouldn’t need to remind Irene Baldwin that the reason she was hired over more qualified candidates— including Mary Ellen—was for her ability to bridge that gap.
