One
of our 'toys' used in undercover investigations was a small, German-made wire
recorder called a Miniphon. It fit in a holster under one arm and was
hard-wired to a small microphone that looked like a tie clasp. Battery operated
it recorded on an 800-meter, spider-silk thin silver wire with reasonably good
fidelity. I was considered to be very proficient with its use and had by the
time of this particular incident contributed information gained by my Miniphon
that led to four successful prosecutions. As a tribute to my ability, I was
assigned a new investigator just out of the academy to observe my use of it.
Our task was to attempt to buy a combination of 'diet pills' (amphetamines) and
'nerve pills' (barbiturates) from a down-country doctor that was apparently
selling them to anyone who asked for them without first giving the customer a physical
examination. Had he so much as taken my blood pressure and listened to my
heart, he could have sold me several dozen of each drug without violating any
laws.
My
protégé and I entered the suspect doctor's office at three on a Thursday
afternoon and seated ourselves in the waiting room; there were no other
patients. I switched on my Miniphon. After about ten minutes, the top half of a
Dutch door in a wall to the left of the office entrance opened and a man that
fit the suspect doctor's description looked around the empty waiting room and
then stared at us for several seconds before asking what we wanted. I
approached him and asked without hesitation for some diet pills (amphetamines)
and some 'three-a-days' (barbiturates). Note: I did not specify any quantity of
either. (These codes were given us by a young man who was arrested for public
intoxication and had a quantity of each drug in his pocket. Another story,
another time.)
The
doctor told me it would be a few moments, closed the Dutch door, and I sat back
down and bathed in the admiring glance from my trainee. A few moments later the
top of the Dutch door opened and the doctor held out two small white paper bags.
I walked over to him and asked how much I owed him. He requested ten dollars
for the amphetamines and five dollars for the barbiturates. I handed him the
money, which he took quickly then shut the door. I pocketed my purchase and quickly
left his waiting room. As soon as we got to my car, my protégé and I noted in our
diaries that the doctor had not so much as checked my pulse before giving me
the pills. It was a very successful 'buy'.
On
our way back to our motel, my trainee asked me what laws the doctor had
transgressed by his selling me the drugs as he did. I told him that by selling
me dangerous prescription drugs without a valid doctor-patient relationship—he
had not asked me why I needed these medications or examined me in any way—he
had issued the drugs as if they were OTC (over-the-counter) medications like
aspirin or antacids. Under the Food, Drug and Cosmetic Act, he had caused the
drugs to be misbranded (mislabeled). I went on to explain that it was a felony,
and if convicted the doctor could be sentenced to prison. By the time I
finished my explanation, we were back in our motel room. With my partner as
witness, I examined the contents of each bag. Satisfied that the doctor had
sold me the correct drugs, I asked my trainee to count the capsules, and then
seal each bag with an official evidence seal signed by both of us. Then I
removed the Miniphon from its holster, eager to hear replayed the incriminating
conversation between the doctor and me. I pushed the rewind button and nothing
happened. I pushed it again with the same lack of result. In somewhat of a
panic, I pulled the back off the little device to see if it had actually
recorded anything. I noticed to my chagrin that I had forgotten to install batteries
before I left our office. My trainee was tactful enough to hide his laughter.
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