Death Roe (23 page)

47

Monday, November 29, 2004

LANSING, INGHAM COUNTY

Beaker Salant called as Service and Denninger were getting ready for their morning run. Service sent her ahead and told her he would catch up.

“Dude, this story is like
so sick!
I filed a Freedom of Information Act request for Teeny's travel vouchers while he was in office, and it was like running into a wall,
full stop!
I've got legal contacts who'll put the squeeze on the department, pro bono. With the department's budgets in such shitty shape, they'll fold pretty quick rather than invest a lot of manpower in withholding an FOIA request. Thanksgiving night I got a call from a man named Boyd Scow, general counsel for Pacific Green College. Boydie-boy wanted to let me know that because the college is private, it's not required to make the names of donors public. I think he labors under the assumption I'm some lowly, lame undergrad. I pointed out to him that PGC has about four million in federal grants, which automatically and legally obligates the institution to place donor lists and amounts in the public domain. The dude was, like, totally freaked. We'll get the list, just like we'll get Teeny's travel vouchers.”

“Sick?”

“Big, cool, sick—it's growing thick, hairy legs, dude.”

“Can you report the conversations you had?”

“Absolutely. The story will run statewide tomorrow. The storyline is, former director vacations at contractor's place in Florida and DNR stonewalls FOIA for the director's travel vouchers. Part two, attorney for Pacific Green College tries to dodge making donor lists available. The owner of Piscova, Quintan Fagan, recently alleged to have funded the academic position soon to be occupied by former DNR director Eino Teeny. It's further alleged by credible sources that Piscova, a company with a long-term contract with the DNR to collect salmon eggs for state hatcheries, is under investigation for violating IRS and FDA laws. A Michigan DNR seizure of contaminated Piscova eggs was recently overturned by a judge, despite DNA tests of those samples by FDA showing the presence of the pesticide mirex in the eggs. The banned mirex has contaminated Lake Ontario fish eggs for years, and because of this, they're banned for human consumption; Michigan eggs are not banned. You catching any heat?”

“Some,” Service said.

“Put on your fire-retardant drawers, dude; this deal's going to get a whole lot
hotter
.”

It bothered Service that he was opening the door to a reporter to trash the DNR he loved, but he couldn't see a better way of bringing everything into the public eye. Behind closed doors, the power brokers could control everything and would ultimately prevail.

Earlier this morning Denninger had called the office of Clay Flinders and was told that the Fisheries director was out for the day. She immediately called a woman she knew in the Parks Divison, who talked to an acquaintance in Fisheries and learned that Flinders was speaking to an organization called the Resource Rescue Group, a collection of staffers from various committees in the Michigan House of Representatives. The RRG met quarterly to review various natural resource issues. The meetings, open to all House staff personnel, were described as “background,” with open give-and-take between invited guests and staff.

Service cut through the woods and caught up to Denninger, who was plowing through fresh snow under a stand of oaks, her face bright red. “If the RRG meeting is open only to House staff personnel, how do we get in?”

They kept running while trying to talk.

“Badges,” she said.

He hoped she was right.

He parked his vehicle on a ramp off North Grand Avenue and they walked down Ottawa Street toward the Capitol Building. The Anderson House Office Building was just west of the Capitol. They checked in with the security detail in the lobby and took an elevator to the fifth floor, to the Mackinac Room, which was laid out in an ellipse, a half-moon with a stage in front.

There was no security in the meeting room. They found seats in the back row right before Flinders was introduced. He did a thirty-minute PowerPoint presentation on the condition and operations of state fish hatcheries. Questions followed. For a known introvert, Flinders looked comfortable in front of the audience, sallying around the stage with a lavalier microphone. The questions were all softballs, and Service wondered if they had been planted. After answering several questions, Flinders and his host, a middle-aged woman with straight blond hair, invited the audience for refreshments in an adjoining room.

Service waited until the room was crowded before easing in. The group loitered in clusters, attracted by forces Service couldn't decipher. There were cookies, coffee, tea, and soft drinks on a series of tables along a wall. Service wandered over and got a Diet Pepsi and noticed a small sign on one of the tables:
refreshments courtesy of piscova, inc.
Service nudged Denninger and went looking for Flinders.

“Mr. Flinders, Grady Service,” he said, announcing himself and pointing to his partner. “Conservation Officer Dani Denninger.” Flinders blinked and tugged at his beard. “Chief, Piscova is being investigated for illegal activities with eggs owned by the people of Michigan. Don't you find it ironic, if not offensive, that this is the company sponsoring the refreshments here—or is your organization changing its name to the Resource
Rape
Group?”

Flinders sucked in a deep breath and hissed, “You sonuvabitch!”

“No argument with that characterization, Chief—but you're not answering the question.”

“You are not authorized to be here,” Flinders stammered.

“Conservation officers are all about rescuing and saving resources. That authorizes us.”

The blond woman who had introduced Flinders tried to intervene as people began to gather. “Would you gentlemen like a private room to continue your discussion?” she asked.

“The gentlemen would
not
,” Service said. “This thing has been kept in private rooms for too long. It needs to be out where people can hear about it.”

“Call Security,” Flinders said to the woman, his eyes on fire.

Service said, “We're officers conducting a legally authorized investigation, Chief.”

“Are you happy? Are you
happy?
” Flinders said, his voice rising. “Jeff Choate turned in his paperwork to retire this morning. Is that what you want? They'll get me next!”

“Who will?”

“You
know
who!” the Fisheries chief said, wheeling around and departing the room at a brisk clip.

“What's going on?” a man in a white shirt and tie asked.

“Just business.”

Service and Denninger returned to his vehicle on the parking ramp. Service called the North Dakota Game and Fish Department and asked to speak to director Gar Kochak. The department receptionist didn't ask any questions and put the call through. The director answered his own phone. “Gar.”

Service couldn't imagine Eino Teeny answering his own phone, much less with his first name. “Director Kochak, I'm Michigan DNR detective Grady Service. I understand North Dakota has contracted with Piscova, Inc. for paddlefish egg collections.”

“That's correct,” Kochak said.

“Are you aware that Quintan Fagan has been convicted of IRS crimes in the state of Florida?”

There was a long pause. “What kind of crimes?”

“Illegal cash transactions and tax evasion. There were five counts, and he pleaded to two.”

“Is that right?” the North Dakota director said slowly. “What's your name again, and your phone number?”

Kochak hung up, and called back ten minutes later. “Detective, thank you for the information. I can't say that Piscova's ever done anything but honor the contract here, but I'll be damned if this state is going to award contracts to felons.”

Service hung up and looked at Denninger.

“Why didn't you tell him about the eggs?” she asked.

“We haven't proven anything in court, but the convictions in Florida are a matter of public record.”

“Are we going to have everybody in the state of Michigan pissed at us?” she asked.

“Maybe,” he said. “You still in?”

Denninger nodded.

Next, Service called Law Enforcement Divison chief Lorne O'Driscoll. “I just heard Jeff Choate is retiring.”

“Turned in his letter this morning and cleaned out his desk. He's going to take unused vacation.”

“Sort of sudden,” Service said. “What happens to the salmon contract liaison?”

“Like you said, it's sudden. Too soon to tell how Fisheries will play this.”

“What kind of reaction are you hearing about his retirement?”

“Some astonishment, I'd say. People are surprised.”

“Chief, Officer Denninger met with Choate last week.”

Silence on the other end. “Do you think that precipitated his decision?”

“I'm going to try to find him and talk to him.”

“I'm not sure I agree with that,” O'Driscoll said. “Let me talk to the interim director before you do that.”

Service was not pleased by the response and wished he had not told his chief what he was planning to do. “All right.”

They were on their way out of Lansing when the cell phone rang. “Detective, this is Cecil. Lorne told me about Officer Denninger's meeting with Choate. What exactly did she say to him?”

Service handed Denninger the phone. “Acting Director Hopkins wants to talk to you.”

“Director Hopkins, this is Officer Denninger. Yes, sir . . . Cecil, I understand. I told him he was being investigated, and that we have evidence he was provided female company by Piscova.”

Service saw that Denninger was sweating. He reached over and patted her shoulder supportively. “Yes, sir, there's a woman who runs a call-girl service in Lansing, and she confirms that Choate and Horn were clients, paid for by Piscova. The person who provided the arrangements confirms it. We have her statement. She left us with the impression there might be more personnel involved, but this is as much as we have so far.”

Denninger looked over at him and tried to smile as she listened to the voice on the phone. “No, sir, I didn't threaten him. I only stated the facts of the investigation. He was huffy at first, then he sat back in his chair and didn't say anything. All right, sir.”

She handed the phone back to Service.

“Why did you send her to Choate?” Hopkins asked.

“I wanted to get a reaction.”

“Well, I guess you got one. I don't think you should talk to him again. I'm sure he will lawyer up and that will just make it a mess. If you think your evidence is solid, let it speak when you lay out your case. You with me on this?”

“I was hoping to convince him to share details,” Service said.

The interim director took several seconds to respond. “I'm going to have to overrule you on this one. Leave the man be and develop the case. How many others are involved beyond Horn?”

“I don't know.”

“All these articles keep coming out. You think Teeny is staying at Fagan's place in Florida?”

“I only know what I read in the funny papers,” Service said.

Cecil Hopkins laughed. “Ware Grant told me you're a piece of work.”

“You know the captain?”

“Long time. Tell me you're going to leave Choate alone.”

“If that's your order.”

“It is. Have you heard that your activities are dividing the department?”

“I heard something along those lines.”

“It's hard to remove bad apples without bruising a few good ones along the way,” Hopkins said. “Keep at it and let me worry about morale and attitudes.”

“You're telling me to take it all the way?”

“I don't know what
all the way
is, Detective. I'm telling you to take the case to its natural conclusion, no less, no more. Keep it professional at every step.”

“And keep pissing people off?”

“That's the risk you run.”

In one way he was getting a vote of confidence, but if so, why did he feel so out on a limb, all alone? “Thanks,” Service said, closing the phone. Hopkins hadn't said
we
.

“We're really swimming in shit, aren't we?” Denninger said.

“We always swim in shit,” he said. “We just need to pay attention to the direction and strength of the current.”

48

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

SARANAC, IONIA COUNTY

Service and Denninger had finished their run, showered, and were drinking coffee. Leukonovich sat at the table, working on her laptop.

“Fish and Wildlife are unlikely to prosecute Crimea over the adulterated caviar,” the IRS agent announced. Her pronouncement came out of the blue.

“You have contact with Fish and Wildlife?” Service asked.

“Zhenya will graciously ignore your crude attempt to pry. The point is that Fish and Wildlife will use Crimea for leverage against bigger fish.”

“If that's true, what does it mean for our investigation?”

Leukonovich looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Impossible for Zhenya to say, but if Fish and Wildlife does not pursue Crimea, Zhenya will not allow their decision to affect the outcome of her case against Piscova. I believe there will be a satisfactory outcome for you and for me.” She took two sheets of paper out of a folder and slid them over to him.

Service scanned the pages, which contained two names. “Askin and Hough?”

“They are fish technicians in your department. It has been alleged that they live somewhat beyond their means. An audit shows no trust funds or exogenous income adequate to explain their lifestyles.”

“They're on the take?”

“I deal in numbers,” Leukonovich said.

Service and Denninger spent the rest of the day trying to gather information on the two names, Dewayne Askin and Darwin Hough.