Jack Hosmer pressed the dial button on the cell phone that his assistant had just handed him. It rang once. The voice that answered was low and muffled–unfamiliar to Hosmer.
“Have enough dead customers yet?”
Hosmer snapped back, “Who is this? What do you want?”
“As far as you’re concerned, I don’t have a name. What I want is five million dollars.”
Hosmer sat up straighter in his chair. As director of security for TMK Pharmaceuticals, he had fielded his share of nonsense calls. This was different. Hosmer’s assistant had received a call earlier in the morning informing her that a cell phone was lying under a dumpster in the loading dock. Her instructions were to give the phone directly to Hosmer.
“Five million dollars? For what?”
“For your wonder drug to stop filling up the morgue.”
Hosmer’s jaw tightened. Lemacym was TMK’s bestselling over-the-counter drug. It was, in TMK boardroom parlance, a “Solid B”. B’s were products whose annual sales were one billion dollars or more.
“What do you know about Lemacym?”
“I know that I’m not going to take any. Because I don’t want to die”
Late yesterday the county Medical Examiner had confirmed that the deaths of three people were linked to Lemacym. Their deaths were now considered homicides. The media hadn’t gotten wind of it yet, but they would soon. The caller couldn’t have received his information from normal sources. He had knowledge that nobody on the street had. Hosmer’s heart sank. The caller was the poisoner.