DRUG MARKET THRIVES BY METHADONE CLINICS

D.C. Patients Must Face 'McPharmacy'

In a sullen ritual played out each day, more than 1,000 drug addicts
descend on a Northeast Washington neighborhood off New York Avenue to
receive treatment at the three public methadone programs in the area.

They are a primed clientele for the drug dealers who operate out of a
nearby McDonald's parking lot. Brazenly hustling in broad daylight, the
dealers sell a jumble of pharmaceuticals to an unrelenting stream of buyers
- -- an operation that D.C. police describe as the largest open-air pill
market in the region.

Many addicts in the midst of treatment say that the availability of so many
drugs, also including heroin and crack, presents daily temptations when
they are grappling with the physical and psychological complexities of
trying to overcome substance abuse.

The McDonald's parking lot abuts the District government's largest
methadone clinic and is within three blocks of the two other treatment centers.

On a recent morning, a dealer who goes by the name King Bad collected a
swift $2,500 in sales, mostly from hard-core drug users eager for
painkillers and sedatives such as OxyContin, Xanax and Percoset, as well as
antibiotics for infected needle lesions and blood pressure medication to
ease withdrawal symptoms.

"This is the place for pills, any pills you want, man," boasted King Bad,
52, a longtime heroin addict who unsuccessfully tried methadone
rehabilitation at one of the nearby facilities.

"More than half my customers are in and out of those clinics. This is a way
for me to survive," said the dealer, who declined to give his real name out
of fear the police would track him down.

Dubbed "McPharmacy" by police narcotics investigators, the
prescription-drug bazaar on New York Avenue and First Street NE is a
formidable obstacle for those seeking help at the methadone clinics, D.C.
health officials say.

"I get a complaint at least once a day from patients who say they have to
walk through that maze of drug dealers," said Tyrone V. Patterson, manager
of the Model Treatment Program, which has almost 500 patients a day and is
adjacent to the McDonald's. Patterson has a clear view of the illicit
activity: The large windows in his office overlook the parking lot.

Also affected are a second D.C. Department of Health clinic, part of the
agency's $6.2 million methadone program, and a $725,000 methadone treatment
service run by the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs.

The clinics, with the assistance of police and private security guards,
have managed to keep drug activity away from the entrances of their
buildings, but the market continues to thrive and has spilled over onto
surrounding streets.

"It's like walking through a minefield. At one time, I couldn't get in or
out without being accosted or succumbing to the drug trade," lamented
Philip, 46, a recovering heroin addict who did not want to give his last
name. "If you can make it through this test, you can probably make it
through most tests."

The dealers said they are merely exploiting a market that guarantees robust
returns and enables many of them to support their own drug habits.

Drug dealers have been a presence for years at the two-story McDonald's at
75 New York Ave. NE, but police have recently noticed greater activity at
the site, coinciding with a surge in heroin use in the city. And Cmdr. Alan
J. Dreher of the 1st Police District said his office has been receiving
more community complaints about the open-air market, which also caters to
well-heeled customers from the District, Maryland and Virginia.

John Brennan, a sergeant with the D.C. police major narcotics branch, said
that a citywide strike force has made more than 200 arrests at the drug
market in the past two years but that the impact has been minimal. Brennan
said that new dealers emerge almost as quickly as the police can make
arrests and that many of those apprehended and charged receive sentences
that do not involve jail time.

Ron Keiper, a detective in the narcotics branch, said many of the addicts
showing up at the methadone clinics are not there out of choice but because
of court orders, another factor that contributes to the area around the
McDonald's being "a haven of bad guys."

William Edwards, who owns the McDonald's, declined to be interviewed. In
two written statements, he said he has been working vigilantly with police
and the community to control the drug dealing.

"At my own expense, there is a constant presence of uniformed off-duty
Metropolitan Police officers in my store. In fact, 21 off-duty police
officers work on the premises on a weekly basis," one of the statements said.

On a weekday morning late last month, no police officer was visible at the
restaurant while dealers in the parking lot openly handled large wads of
cash and dispensed copious amounts of pharmaceuticals. "They [McDonald's]
don't mess with us because we spend money with them," King Bad said.

That morning, a man who identified himself only as Rodney, 39, illustrated
another dimension to the drug dealing at the McDonald's: Not only do some
addicts in treatment continue to buy drugs there, they also sell. Soon
after receiving his regular dose of liquid methadone at the Model Treatment
Program on First Street NE, Rodney made his way to the parking lot to hawk
OxyContin.

"You looking for Oxy? I got it here, right here," he said to a passerby who
declined his offer of an 80-milligram pill for $40 or a 20-milligram tablet
for $20.

Standing by a trash bin a few steps away, a gaunt woman waved a $20 bill at
another dealer who obliged by furtively giving her Catapres, a prescription
drug used for high blood pressure.

Capitalizing on their New York Avenue locale near Union Station, the
dealers also cater to more upscale customers from across the metropolitan
area. At one point last week, five cars, including a Mercedes, a BMW and a
Pathfinder sport-utility vehicle, idled in the McDonald's lot as the
drivers gave their orders to several attending dealers.

"I need some more Percoset," the driver of the BMW, which bore Maryland
tags, told a dealer before slipping $60 through the window and motoring
away with a dozen pills. Within seconds of that transaction, the driver of
the SUV stepped out of his vehicle, which displayed Virginia tags, and
handed the dealer $40 for 20 Xanax.

Soon after, a man behind the wheel of a rickety Honda pulled up alongside
King Bad and announced he was selling methadone pills for the "wholesale
price" of $5 apiece. King Bad quickly accepted the deal, snapping up a
dozen or so pills, which he planned to sell for the market price of $10 per
tablet.

Patterson said his clinic "is supposed to be a symbol of help and hope and
not a symbol of open drug-dealing." But he also noted that he has used his
second-floor office view of the McDonald's parking lot to stress a lesson
to recovering addicts: What they see happening in the lot is something they
must reject outright if they are to succeed in their treatment.

The clinic has moved up its schedule by an hour, giving out methadone from
6 a.m. to 3:30 p.m., to reduce the concentration of patients who come to
the facility before going to work. The three methadone programs also offer
bus service to and from their facilities.

James T. Speight Jr., director of the second D.C. Health Department clinic,
the UPO Comprehensive Treatment Center, said his facility strongly urges
the 380 methadone patients it sees each day not to linger in the
neighborhood after treatment.

"We view the pushers as predators because the individuals we work with are
sick and vulnerable people who are being preyed on," Speight said.

Debbie Jackson, who runs the Veteran Affairs Community Clinic -- which
treats about 180 patients daily in its methadone program -- said the drug
dealers are ruthlessly trying to cash in on the fact that recovering
addicts are susceptible to relapses. "You are not going to sell umbrellas
in the desert," Jackson said.

Narcotics investigators said the dealers are getting their pharmaceuticals
largely through people who have illegally obtained prescription pads, often
through connections at hospitals, clinics or doctor's offices. They
sometimes make huge numbers of photocopies to last them long periods.
Others sell drugs that have been prescribed to them legitimately by
doctors, or they find a doctor who will knowingly write a fraudulent
prescription.

Some of the individuals involved in illicit pill distribution have also
been found to have prescription cards from several stores so they can get
many prescriptions filled without drawing suspicion at any one pharmacy.

Some dealers also buy people's Medicaid prescription cards for up to $100
apiece, allowing the dealers to fill prescriptions at little or no cost.

Law enforcement authorities said that compared with the dozens of other
open-air drug markets across the District, the one at the McDonald's
generally draws an older crowd of buyers and sellers and has not
experienced the violence associated with turf wars in the crack cocaine and
marijuana trades.

Brennan said that although there have been isolated situations in which
doctors have been busted for writing illegal prescriptions for drugs that
are then sold on the street, winning a case is a formidable undertaking.
"One of the hardest things to do is to get the doctors," he said. "They are
generally intelligent people who know how to cover their tracks and hire
the best lawyers."

Without providing details, Dreher said police officers will be more visible
around the McDonald's as part of a two-pronged approach aimed at reining in
the dealing. "Arresting your way out of the problem is one thing, but you
need some decent outreach from social services, and we are looking at
getting that going," he said.