Robin Cook - Toxin

"Who could miss it?" Daryl said. "It gave me a cold sweat with him carrying on about E. coli."

"You and me both," Everett said. "And now it's gotten worse. A little while ago she snuck into my plant with the doctor. Somehow he's got her to help him trace meat."

"Presumably looking for E. coli," Daryl said.

"Undoubtedly," Everett said.

"This is very scary," Daryl said.

"I couldn't agree more," Everett said. "Especially since Jack Cartwright overheard them talking about Higgins and Hancock. We're concerned they may show up at your establishment on the same crusade."

"This I don't need," Daryl said.

"We're going to be talking about a long-term solution tonight," Everett said. "Did you get the message?"

"I did," Daryl said. "Bobby Bo called me."

"In the meantime, maybe you should take some precautions," Everett said.

"Thanks for the tip," Daryl said. "I'll call my security and alert them."

"That's exactly what I would have suggested," Everett said. "See you in a little while."

Daryl disconnected. He held up a finger to indicate to his wife, Hazel, that he had one more quick call to make. Hazel, dressed to the nines, was impatiently waiting at the front door. While she tapped her toe, Daryl dialed the main number at the slaughterhouse.

Marsha turned into Kim's driveway and stopped directly behind Kim's car. She left the motor running and the headlights on.

"I appreciate what you've done," Kim said. He had his hand on the door, but he didn't open it. "I'm sorry it didn't go more smoothly."

"It could have been worse," Marsha said brightly. "And who knows what's going to happen? We'll just have to see how it plays out."

"Would you like to come in?" Kim asked. "My house is a wreck, but I could use a drink. How about you?"

"Thanks, but I think I'll take a rain check," Marsha said. "You've got me started on something I intend to finish. By the time you get the lab results on Monday, I'd like to have the meat traced as much as possible. That way we'd be that much farther ahead of the game when we try to make an argument for a recall."

"Are you planning on doing something now?"

"Yup," Marsha said, with a nod. She glanced at her watch. "I'm going to head directly out to Higgins and Hancock. This might be my only chance. As I said earlier, the district USDA manager and I have never gotten along. Come Monday, when he hears about our little escapade from Jack Cartwright, I might be out of a job. Of course, that would mean I'd lose my ID. card."

"Gosh," Kim remarked. "If you lose your job, I'm going to feel terrible. It's certainly not what I intended."

"There's no need for you to feel responsible," Marsha said. "I knew the risk I was taking. Even in retrospect, I think it was worth it. Like you said, I'm supposed to be protecting the public."

"If you're going to the slaughterhouse now, then I'm coming along," Kim said. "I'm not going to let you go alone."

"Sorry, but it's out of the question," Marsha said. "I didn't think there'd be a problem at Mercer Meats and there was. It's a different story at Higgins and Hancock. I know there'd be a problem. Heck, it might be tough for me to get in there even with my USDA card."

"How can that be?" Kim asked. "As a USDA inspector, can't you visit any meat establishment?"

"Not where I'm not assigned," Marsha said. "And especially not a slaughterhouse. They have their own full-time contingent of USDA people. You see, slaughterhouses are akin to nuclear installations as far as visitors are concerned. They don't need them, and they don't want them. All they can do is cause trouble."

"What are the slaughterhouses hiding?" Kim asked.

"Their methods, mostly," Marsha said. "It's not a pretty sight in the best of circumstances but particularly after the deregulation of the eighties, slaughterhouses have all pushed up the speed of their lines, meaning they process more animals per hour. Some of them run as much as two hundred fifty to three hundred animals an hour. At that speed contamination can't be avoided. It's inevitable. In fact, it is so inevitable that the industry sued the USDA when the agency considered officially calling meat with E. coli contaminated."

"You can't be serious," Kim said.

"Trust me," Marsha said. "It's true."

"You're saying the industry knows that E. coli is in the meat?" Kim said. "They're contending it can't be helped?"

"Exactly," Marsha said. "Not in all meat, just some of it."

"This is outrageous," Kim said. "This is something the public has to find out about. This can't continue. You've convinced me I've got to see a slaughterhouse in operation."

"Which is exactly why the slaughterhouses don't like visitors." Marsha said. "And that's why you'd never get in. Well, that's not entirely true. Slaughtering has always been a labor-intensive business, and one of their biggest headaches is a constant shortage of help. So I suppose if you got tired of being a cardiac surgeon, you could get a job. Of course, it would help if you were an illegal alien, so they could pay you less than the minimum wage."

"You're not painting a very flattering picture," Kim said.

"It's reality," Marsha said. "It's hard, undesirable work, and the industry has always relied heavily on immigrants. The difference is that today the workers come from Latin America, particularly Mexico, rather than Eastern Europe, where they came from in the past."

"This is all sounding worse and worse," Kim said. "I can't imagine that I've never given it any thought. I mean, I eat meat, so in some ways I'm responsible."

"It's the downside of capitalism," Marsha said. "I don't mean to sound like a radical socialist, but this is a particularly flaming example of profit over ethics: greed with a complete disregard for consequence. It's all part of what prompted me to join the USDA, because the USDA could change things."

"If change was considered desirable by those in power," Kim added.

"True," Marsha agreed.

"Putting this all in perspective," Kim said, "we're talking about an industry that exploits its workforce and feels no compunction about killing hundreds of kids a year." Kim shook his head in disbelief. "You know, the total lack of ethics that this represents makes me worry even more about you.

"How do you mean?" Marsha asked.

"I'm talking about your going off right now to visit Higgins and Hancock essentially under false pretenses," Kim said. "By using your USDA I.D., you'll be suggesting you're there on official business."

"Obviously," Marsha said. "That's the only way I could get in."

"Well, as security-minded as they are," Kim said, "won't you be taking a risk? And I'm not talking about your job security."

"I see what you mean," Marsha said. "Thank you for being concerned, but I'm not worried about my well-being. The worst that could happen is that they'd complain to my boss, like Jack Cartwright has threatened to do."

"Are you sure?" Kim asked. "If there were any danger, I wouldn't want you to go. To tell you the truth, after the episode in Mercer Meats, I feel uncomfortable about you doing any more on my behalf. Maybe you should just let me do what I can. If you go out there tonight, I'll be nervous the entire time."

"I'm flattered by your concern," Marsha said. "But I think I should just go and see what I can. I'm not going to get hurt or in any more trouble than I already am. I might not even get in. And as I said, you wouldn't be able to do anything on your own because you certainly wouldn't be able to get in."

"Maybe I could get a job," Kim said. "Like you suggested."

"Hey, I was only kidding," Marsha said. "I was just trying to make a point."

"I'm willing to do what I have to do," Kim said.

"Listen," Marsha said, "what if I take my cellular phone with me and call you every fifteen or twenty minutes? Then you won't have to worry, and I can keep you posted about what I'm finding. How's that?"