Track Of A Ruthless Cat: How A Chemical Predator Escaped -- Student Rediscovered Addictive Stimulant

The cat slept for decades, caged deep within a laboratory in Ann Arbor, Mich.

Scientists locked it up. It was dangerous.

They had hoped it would have a future. The cat was a powerful stimulant. Perhaps it could slim the obese. Or cheer the depressed.

They made samples. Tested it. Kept detailed records.

But it was not a wonder. Although it curbed appetites and gave feelings of euphoria and energy, it was dangerous and highly addictive.

But a man was coming with a key.

His name was Mark McPhee.

A medicinal-chemistry major at the University of Michigan, he had worked on and off at Parke-Davis, the Ann Arbor-based research and development arm of a drug manufacturer, Warner-Lambert Co.

McPhee personally was interested in drugs that affected the body's central-nervous system. He liked to experiment on himself. In early 1989, when he was 22, he met a man with a similar fascination, Karl Hofstatter. Hofstatter, then 32, was what authorities called a "clandestine chemist." He made his own recreational drugs.

Hofstatter was always boning up on what could be made at home - cooked, as some in the drug trade call it.

He'd made batches and batches of his favorite stimulant, methylaminorex. Always in search of new concoctions, Hofstatter, by summer 1989, was intrigued by something he'd read about.

He told McPhee. "One word," the older man said. "Methcathinone."

McPhee grew curious, too. Just to see what would happen, he entered what little he knew about it into his computer. Archived information popped up, showing that the company had researched cat in the 1950s. In fact, Parke-Davis got a U.S. patent for methcathinone in 1957.

McPhee dug further through the lab until he found a sample. He stole 3.3 grams of the whitish powder, about half a teaspoon, and went to meet Hofstatter. It was party time.

The pair and two acquaintances snorted it. Hofstatter and McPhee liked it. The others complained it kept them awake all night.

McPhee searched further in the archives and found two pages, a chemist's handwritten notes, dated May 5, 1954.

It was the recipe. He copied the pages and left. The cat was loose.

McPhee knew Philip Pavlik Jr. of Marquette, Mich., was a local pot dealer. Hofstatter later made introductions. Cat brought them all closer.

It seduced them. They sampled whatever cat McPhee could get from the Parke-Davis vault.

Its embrace was warm and euphoric. More intense than cocaine, cat causes the spirits to leap and leaves a feeling of invincibility. There is no yearning for sleep, no desire to eat.

EASY-TO-FIND INGREDIENTS

Pavlik talked the reluctant McPhee into helping him cook cat. With easy-to-find ingredients, homemade cat was available to anyone who could follow a recipe.

Practice made perfect. The batches grew in quantity and quality. At some point, Hofstatter started cooking, too. McPhee, sensing where this was leading, got out. He would later tell law-enforcement authorities he never intended what happened next.

Pavlik began sharing his new wonder with people back home in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

One of them was Dean Grimes. On a beautiful day near the July 4th holiday, Grimes and three other guys gathered at an apartment in Marquette for a party.

Cat was the guest of honor.

Grimes snorted a line and felt a knotting in his throat, then an intense rush. His body felt like it was vibrating. He felt a burst of energy.

The four young men talked and talked. They played hackey sack for hours. Later, they partied all night at a friend's bachelor party.

Over the next month, they tried cat a few more times. Everyone seemed to notice the vibrating sensation. They grew eager for it.

"We're hummin' now," they said to each other as lines were cut.

By now Grimes, who was cooking his own cat, was hooked. He'd lost some weight. It didn't matter. In rare moments of clarity, when it occurred to him that he was hurting himself, he could rationalize.

"At least I'm not as bad as Phil," he'd tell friends.

Phillip Pavlik was more than bad. He needed hospitalization. He left Ann Arbor and came home so messed up that his father thought his brain would be scrambled forever.

He entered a hospital to detoxify, then enrolled in a substance-abuse program. Scores of others were doing the same. Hospitals saw pregnant women who were hooked.

STRUCK OUT ON HIS OWN

Grimes told others he was quitting. He was tired of making other people's cat for them. He drove to Manitowoc, Wis., bought more equipment and made batches he could keep to himself. His production increased. He was up to a batch a day.

He hid his lab in the woods or any closet he could talk someone into letting him use. He would sit and cook for hours. The fumes were bad, and the chemicals left sores on his arms. He stayed awake for days, then would crash and sleep for several more. He lost jobs at Hardee's and a gas station.

His weight continued to plummet. Before cat, Grimes weighed 185. Now he barely topped 100 pounds. He began to bleed from nearly every orifice. Sometimes while sitting in the closet making cat, he wiped pink tears from his eyes.

He avoided his family, but they weren't fooled.

On May 11, 1992, Grimes' mother told him there was a warrant out for his arrest and he decided to flee.

He went to his family's home to grab some things and stepped into the shower. When he stepped out, the police were waiting. His grandmother had called them.

Using informants, undercover work and chemical-company records, drug agents caught up with dozens of cat users and distributors.

Grimes cooperated with authorities and got six months of home detention and 300 hours of community service. He's been off cat for 2 1/2 years. Hofstatter and Pavlik also were caught; each got eight years in prison.

McPhee was sentenced Jan. 11 to one year behind bars. Though he unleashed the cat, he wasn't in possession of as much as the others and did not play as big a role in spreading the recipe.

Though Parke-Davis won't talk about how McPhee gained access to cat, a representative said the company has improved security.

The government has moved to contain cat, but it continues to prowl. Congress in November tightened restrictions on the sale of an ingredient, ephedrine. But authorities are concerned because the ephedrine is available in altered forms. The government declared lab sites hazardous because of the chemicals used. Cleanups can be costly for owners of property where cat is made.

Meanwhile, cat has spread elsewhere. There is evidence of cat use or production in 13 other states.

The formula has spread in prison. It has been published in a book. It popped up anonymously on the Internet computer network more than a year ago, exposing it to millions. That twist has caught the attention of authorities.

The cat will never be caged again.