Naive and enigmatic Dr Chen

Xiao-Zhong Chen

Imagine how surreal it must have been. By day, he was a highly respected heart surgeon, busy saving lives in six to eight operations a day at Auckland City Hospital.

But in lunch breaks and after work, Xiao-Zhong Chen, 55, had a sideline business, driving back and forth across Auckland arranging the purchase and delivery of 22,000 boxes of Telfast tablets.

Then one night in August 2004, loud knocking shattered his sleep and turned his world upside down.

The police were pounding on the door and the bespectacled, quiet Chen was about to be accused of supplying precursor substances to a methamphetamine ring.

He missed out on the dream job he was about to be offered, had his face splashed across the front pages of newspapers and on television and watched as his reputation was on the line throughout a jury trial.

That the jury came back after 25 minutes with a not guilty verdict meant he was saved the worst of what could have befallen him. But it has not so far been enough to enable him to fully recover from what he has been through.

Nor, so far, has it given him back the one thing he wants more than anything - his old job.

He was reluctant this week to give an interview but eventually agreed, arranging to meet at his modest apartment. Then, the day before the interview, he left a message, polite, but to the point.

"I think I had enough publicly so I don't have much to say ... I just want to get my job back and quietly do my job. Thank you anyway."

Chen has clearly had enough. He is tired of talking about the court case and tired of explaining why he bought Telfast tablets and sold them for a $250,000 profit that is now under investigation by Inland Revenue.

But while he quietly waits to hear if he will get his job back, many people are questioning just how he "got off" seven charges of supplying a precursor substance for the manufacture of methamphetamine.

Some say it is because he is a high-ranking doctor. Others say it is because he was innocent.

When the Crown opened its case in the Auckland District Court three weeks ago prosecutor Kirsten Lummis told the jury this was a case about P - pure methamphetamine.

"I'm sure you have all heard about it and the huge impact it has had on this country," she said.

Chen, she said, would have known that a $250,000 profit for about eight hours' work was too good to be legal.

Only movie stars like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie made that kind of money, she said.

But the case was not really about P. The way the defence put it, the case was about a naive doctor who thought he was helping the people of China.

From day one Chen's lawyer, Paul Davison, QC, made it clear that the Telfast had been bought and sold by the doctor. And he made a profit doing so.

The question for the jury to decide was whether Chen knew it was being made into methamphetamine or whether he really believed it was going to China as he claimed.

To understand why the jury came to its conclusion, you need to know about Chen. His actions suggest he is a man of honour and honesty. Though he had name suppression until the trial, he chose to tell his employers about the charges he faced, thereby jeopardising his pending switch from a temporary to a permanent contract.

He was suspended as a result, without pay, and has been without income since.

From all accounts, he was a workaholic. You might even think he was a bit of a bore. This is a man who took medical textbooks on his honeymoon. His interests are narrow and he is unworldly, with little interest in current events or gossip (his daughter revealed that he didn't have a clue who Pitt or Jolie were).

Though he wore a suit and tie every day in court, he had not bought any new clothes for years. His exasperated wife, Wendy Tang, explained how he had no idea of men's labels such as Country Road.

Despite the amount of money he earned, he lived modestly. He bought a car for a friend and a second-hand Mercedes for himself - but only when his old car broke down. Some of the money is still sitting in his bank account.

Chen's entry to the world of drugs came in mid-2003 via one of his tenants, Jiang Jian.

Jian told Chen he needed someone to facilitate the purchase of 10,000 boxes of Telfast Decongestant for export to a pharmaceutical company in China.

Convinced by the authenticity of the request, Chen made the mistake of becoming involved and phoned Aventis, the only company to supply Telfast Decongestant in New Zealand. Aventis manager Andrew Baker spoke to Chen and asked for the request to be confirmed in writing.

The next day an email arrived saying Chen was a cardiothoracic surgeon who had worked at Green Lane Hospital since 1998. The drugs were for a friend who was a pharmacist in China.

But Baker, an experienced businessman who was well aware of the demand for pseudoephedrine products on the black market, was instantly suspicious - the order was half of what the company normally sold in a year.

He went straight to the Mt Wellington police. His concerns were passed to the Auckland Drug Squad, who asked Baker to collect some information from the doctor.

In theory, that is where the story should have ended.

Instead, Baker's suspicions slipped into a pile of paperwork. The officer handing the case left and his notes were never passed on.

Meanwhile, Baker continued with his own investigation. He contacted China to see if Telfast was available there. If so he wouldn't supply it. It wasn't.

He also made inquiries at Green Lane Hospital where acquaintances verified that Chen was a highly regarded surgeon.

When he could stall no further, Baker emailed police saying he would proceed with the sale if he didn't hear back.

Police did not call back and Baker proceeded, putting the sale through Anspec, a Henderson-based company that had a licence to export.

Baker briefed Anspec business manager Stephen Tree about his concerns but said that police had no problem with the sale and Chen was who he said he was.

In November the first order for 300 packets was placed. Over the next nine months, Tree supplied Chen with 22,000 boxes, paid for in cash (Tree requested cash or a bank cheque).

If Tree was suspicious, he was convinced when Chen gave him a translated document saying they were being shipped to the China Huabei Medical Company.

Chen, too, had asked for proof that the company was legitimate and was handed a Chinese customs document by the man he was dealing with, Hao Yang, who claimed to be an agent for the company.

In reality Yang and his right-hand man, Weikun Jin, were actually taking the tablets to an apartment. There they would strip the packaging off the boxes then on-sell the tablets to a woman named Karyn Purdie for $80 a box. Purdie would sell them on to a methamphetamine maker for $100 a box.

In June 2004 police were tipped off about a large quantity of tablets and cash that were being stored in a house. They raided the property and traced the Telfast back to Aventis.

It was only then, 11 months after Baker had first contacted police with his concerns, that the drug squad re-entered the scene.

Using serial numbers Aventis traced the drugs back to Chen and police started preparing for an undercover operation to catch him in the act of supplying.

In August they followed him to Anspec and watched as he paid for 2000 packets of Telfast, drove back to the hospital and handed the van over to Yang, who drove the supply to Mt Roskill.

As Yang and Jin started removing the packaging police stormed the house. The men jumped out the window but were quickly arrested.

Around midnight police knocked on Chen's front door. It took several knocks before the sleeping doctor responded.

At the trial, it became evident the jury was sympathetic to Chen.

They watched closely as he gave evidence in a calm and paced tone.

Even under cross-examination he patiently answered the same questions again and again. By comparison at least two members of the jury laughed quietly when Tree, one of the prosecution's key witnesses, returned to the stand for questioning.

Tree's credibility came into question when he was caught lying about where GST from the Telfast sale went.

He initially claimed all the money he was paid went into Anspec's bank account. He later said the GST content went into his own account and because it was not being recorded on invoices or the company books, no one knew it existed.

The money is still in his account.

Tree also admitted that he had pleaded guilty to a charge of supplying precursor substances and was awaiting sentencing on the matter, which is not related to the Chen trial.

After the jury's acquittal, Chen's daughter Nancy voiced frustration at how the police handled the case.

"If they had gone to the trouble in the first place, we wouldn't have had to go through these 1 years," she said. "We know the stupid things he does, but it's hard for other people to understand how somebody could be so naive."

It is easy to understand Nancy's frustrations, especially since the police were contacted before Chen was sold a single tablet.

Detective Sergeant John Sowter, a member of the drug squad, admits a mistake was made.

"I have to say we were a bit slack in that regard. However, we have real resource and workload issues."

Sowter, who became involved in the case after the June 2004 discovery, believes police did prosecute the right person.

"My personal opinion is that the guy is a doctor, he is 30 years in the job.

"A doctor working on hearts would have to be aware of side- effects of other drugs. I don't accept that he's naive and knew nothing of methamphetamine at all."

With Chen's acquittal one would imagine the drug squad must be feeling frustrated.

They never got the methamphetamine maker.

Purdie, the woman who was selling to the methamphetamine maker, escaped with a suspended sentenced, despite being convicted on charges that carry up to seven years' imprisonment.

Yang and Jin skipped the country while on bail and Jian, the student who started it all, cannot be found.

That leaves police with just Nan Qi, who was sentenced to 250 hours community work for letting his home be used for a crime under the Misuse of Drugs Act.

The end result seems unrewarding for more than a year's hard work on what Sowter describes as one of the biggest busts of locally acquired pseudoephedrine products.

"We charged this doctor and obviously we charged him because we felt he was guilty and there was sufficient evidence there but obviously the jury didn't find it as such.

"So, from that point of view it's disappointing but that's just the way the jury system goes. You win some, you lose some."

For the police the case is now all but closed. If Yang or Jin reappear police will try to track them down but it appears they have fled the country for good.

Now the question remains, could this happen again?

Aventis has stopped selling Telfast Decongestant, the only product it stocked containing pseudoephedrine.

Ministry of Health senior medical adviser Stewart Jessamine said there are no plans to tighten controls at this stage. He is wary of making products too inaccessible to those who really need them.

"The thing we have to remember is that Telfast has a legitimate use in the marketplace and it still is a safe and effective medicine when used to treat allergies, coughs and colds, which is what it is designed for."

Jessamine says Chen should never been able to buy Telfast for export in the first place.

The law states that doctors can buy medicines to sell to patients but not on-sell to other companies.

To do so is wholesaling and wholesalers need a licence.

Jessamine says there has been a voluntary scheme in place for several years to try to prevent pseudoephedrine products from being bought for the manufacture of methamphetamine. Most wholesalers and pharmacies have agreed to report large sales, or anything suspicious, to the police, Medsafe or a regulatory body.

The problem is that is exactly what Baker did - but it didn't prevent the drugs from falling into the wrong hands.

As for Chen, he says he doesn't even use Telfast. He has a medicine he brought with him from China that he uses to help treat colds.

At the moment no pill or potion can help him cope.

The only thing that would make him better is to be back working as a heart surgeon again.