Middle Of Nowhere

   "You run pay-per-call numbers out of here," Boldt said, indicating the flyer in his hand. "Area code nine hundred numbers." He wanted the man on his heels, wanted him thinking in the wrong direction. "Stroke lines?"

   "Adult entertainment. All perfectly legal."

   "I don't see any phone banks."

   "The beauty of technology, Lieutenant. Our sales representatives operate out of their own homes for the most part. Through a computerized switching terminal we receive and reroute all calls."

   "College coeds?" Boldt asked.

   "Housewives, mostly." He waited for Boldt's shock to register. "The woman moaning on the other end of the phone is doing her ironing in front of the television half the time. Cooking dinner. Playing solitaire on the computer. It's all about role playing, Lieutenant. The men call to be turned on, and to hear what they don't hear at home."

   "At eight dollars a minute," Boldt pointed out.

   "Supply and demand."

   "And the Internet site?" a repulsed Boldt inquired.

   "Some soft porn shots," he said, directing this at Daphne, "to get the juices going. Our nine hundred numbers are promoted there. Someone wants to hear a human voice. For a credit card number, the photos go video and get a hell of a lot hotter. We grossed sixty thousand last fiscal quarter off the site alone. Wave of the future."

   "The Pantheon theater group?" Daphne asked.

   "We handle a wide range of telemarketing needs for our corporate customers. Special promotions, like the Consolidated/Pantheon campaign; travel reservations; catalog sales. Our rate sheet is typically about forty percent less than our competitors, and our service just as good if not better. Keeps business brisk."

   "Lower labor costs?" she asked.

   "Look around. Low overhead translates to customer savings."

   "Housewives again?"

   Rathborne affected that same grimace. "Telemarketing campaigns are much more difficult to facilitate because of the need for networked computers and a shared database. If we used isolated individuals for the telemarketing, the technology requirements would kill us. No, we subcontract. In the case of Consolidated, they're working strictly off demographics. The computers target households based on income and real estate value. The sales rep sees a name, phone number and address on his or her screen. It's slick. Consolidated Insurance owns the Pantheon theater chain. They've installed these new electronic ticket kiosks nationally and wanted to use this campaign as a synergistic way to introduce their targeted insurance sales customers to their theater chain simultaneously. It was my idea, actually, and we've hit a home run, I'm happy to say."

   "Subcontract?" Daphne pressed. "To whom?"

   "The justice department didn't tell you?" Rathborne asked Boldt. "I assumed that was why you were here. You're Washington State, right? I thought you were looking to model our system out there in Washington . . . something like that. The state benefits as much as we do."

   Daphne said, "Nothing like that. We're Crimes Against Persons. We're working an assault investigation—"

   "Now wait a minute here!" the man objected, slipping out of his corporate image. "No one said anything about this. I was told you'd have some questions for me about the Consolidated Mutual campaign," the man said. "I assumed—"

   "We have no intention of charging you," Boldt said quickly, "nor anyone else at Newmann Communications. It's more than likely one or two of your employees—these subcontracted sales reps—that we're interested in."

   Daphne suggested, "You may have a bad apple."

   Another waft of frankfurter-and-mustard invaded the space. Boldt felt sick to his stomach. He clarified, "We would like to speak to this subcontractor. You put us in touch with him and we're out of here."

   Daphne repeated, "We have no intention of involving your company in any of this, as long as you cooperate."

   "It's all about labor costs—this business. All about putting people on one end of a telephone. The automated programs suck. And Denver? In this boom? You try finding people willing to work on commission."

   Daphne inquired, "What are you trying to tell us? All we need is the name of the subcontractor on the Consolidated Insurance campaign."

   "I don't understand why they didn't tell you when you talked to them," an irritated Rathborne said. "We've used them for three years now. Never once had a problem."

   "When we talked to whom?" Daphne pressed. "Consolidated passed us on to you."

   "No! Not Consolidated. The justice department should have told your guys. We use correctional facilities, state prisons, inmates." Rathborne explained, "Our subcontractor for all our telemarketing campaigns is the Colorado Correctional Services."

   "Inmates," Boldt mumbled, stunned by the announcement.

   Daphne clarified, "You have inmates making your phone solicitations."

   Rathborne replied, not without some pride: "Technically, it's part of their rehabilitation."

C H A P T E R

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