by Carl Goodman
Laska gave her a grin devoid of humour. ‘You want my guess? He probably sneezed. The increase in intraocular pressure during a sneeze would be enough to fracture the lenses if they were unprotected by resin. That’s most likely what happened. The resin had decayed and dissolved due to everyday exposure to the ultraviolet light in sunlight, Isherwood sneezed at ninety miles an hour and suddenly, immediately he was not only blind but he had shards of broken plastic stabbing him from inside his eyes. The pain must have been extraordinary.’
Eva tried to imagine it. Sitting behind a wheel on a bright, sunny day and without any warning instantaneously losing the sense of sight. No wonder he had swerved. The shock would have been enough to make anyone swerve, never mind the fact he must have been in absolute agony. ‘How many lenses? In the faulty batch I mean?’
‘A little over half a day’s production I think,’ Laska said. ‘About seven pairs.’
Seven people, Eva thought. She needed to find out who the final two were. ‘So Jelen is afraid of being sued?’
Laska curled his lip. ‘No. You use lawyers to fight lawyers and you keep cases in court for years. Jelen is worried about something far more immediate than that.’ He rested his elbows on the table. ‘Sir Robin Chatham is an especially good salesperson. Everyone knows he is doing something seemingly extraordinary with Bright Eyes. The best-quality vision you could ever imagine, isn’t that what he says? Well, some people believe him. Some people are willing to pay big money for Bright Eyes. By people I mean an American multinational medical, pharmaceutical and consumer goods company called Kleinmann with a turnover of about seventy-five billion dollars a year. By money I mean about three-quarters of a billion dollars.’
She couldn’t believe the numbers. ‘You’re not serious?’ Eva said at last.
Laska mocked her gently. ‘Go and read your Financial Times. When these deals happen these are the kinds of sums companies pay. That is what Kleinmann is prepared to pay for Bright Eyes, comprising the Chatham Centre, its people and ProOptica. It’s what they call an exit strategy in business, the point at which you cash in on your investment by selling the property on at a huge profit. This is Jelen and Chatham’s exit strategy. The other directors of the various companies get to cash in their stakes too. Over seven hundred million dollars for a business that could conceivably bring in fifteen times that if they can figure how to scale it up. They won’t be able to of course, but they won’t know that when they sign on the dotted line. Jelen is prepared for even the most thorough due diligence. Don’t you imagine someone might be prepared to kill for a large slice of that particular pie?’
She quickly did the numbers in her head. Assuming anyone involved in the deal had even a 10 per cent stake, each murder could be worth over ten million dollars to him or her. ‘Yes,’ Eva conceded, ‘I think that would do it. So somebody is covering up the fact that ten years down the line Bright Eyes are going to become shredded eyes? Ten years is a long time, long enough for someone like Jelen to quietly disappear.’
‘It just requires a deal to be done and for Jelen, Chatham and his team to hang around for two to three years. After that any manufacturing issues can be put down to new management or new processes. You can bet your life Jelen already has a plan for hiding the longer-term manufacturing flaws from these new owners. Maybe he just won’t hold on for the second half of his payment – thirty-five million dollars would keep most people happy.’
Eva rocked back in her chair. ‘So Jelen is our killer?’ Even as she said the words she could hear the uncertainty in her voice.
Laska shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he told her. ‘It could be Jelen, he might have sent one of his thugs to the UK to conceal the problem, but it could also be someone at the Chatham Centre. They all have a reason. They’ve risked everything. They all stand to make a great deal of money if the company is bought and to lose a great deal if the sale falls through. Some of them have bet their houses and more on Bright Eyes. It would ruin them if the defect was exposed. But I do not know which of them is actually aware of the defect. Jelen will have done a very good job of covering his tracks. Does Sir Robin Chatham know he is implanting lenses that will shatter within a decade? Would he continue to operate if he knew? I do not know the man, so I could not say. I do not know if the others are aware of the defect or only suspect it. Nicola Milne suspects something is wrong. She contacted me to try to find out more. But I do not think she knows the whole truth and I did not want to put her at risk by telling her.’
‘You understood that somebody is trying to cover this up though?’
‘Of course,’ he said, ‘it’s why I left ProOptica. I can’t prove it though, not without putting my own life in danger and I have no particular desire to do that. The police in Slovakia will not be interested; the lenses are not used here.’ He shrugged. ‘And all of that leads us to the other part of the problem,’ Laska admitted finally. ‘I have absolutely no idea who the actual killer is.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
She took the closest she could manage to a formal statement from Laska on her phone. ‘I’ll send you an email,’ he told her as he walked her back to the hotel via a route that led them alongside the Hron River. ‘You saw those guys. I don’t know whether it was you or me they were after but it seems like a good idea not to have to find out. I don’t know what Jelen would do,’ Laska admitted. He wrung his hands as he did so. ‘I don’t know if he would kill. I think he would be sorely tempted. Someone, though. Someone has crossed that line.’ A shrug. ‘Perhaps Jelen does not know who they are, or perhaps Jelen is frightened of them.’ He looked her in the eye then, the pain he felt painted across his face. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.’
Bright Eyes had been Laska’s pet project. He couldn’t have known Jelen would turn his pipe dream into a nightmare. ‘It’s far more than I had,’ Eva told him. ‘I don’t know who’s behind the murders, but at least now I know why.’
Eva left Banská Bystrica just after six the following morning. She didn’t bother with breakfast. She checked out without paying, knowing that the hotel would charge her credit card, and hurried to the rental car. Before getting into it though, she checked the tyres and looked underneath the vehicle. The age-old joke came back to her, but it didn’t make her laugh. Just because you’re paranoid, the voice in her head reminded her, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you. When she had started the engine and pulled away she tried a hard stop before she had travelled twenty metres. As best she could tell the brakes hadn’t been interfered with.
She joined the R1 road where it bypassed the city and put her foot down. Like France the speed limit was eighty but Eva pushed a hundred miles an hour all the way back to Bratislava. She had her warrant card in her bag. If the police stopped her she would take her chances.
Every few hundred metres she glanced in her rear-view mirror, but she could see nothing behind her. Nothing at all.
* * *
She parked in the station yard just after two that afternoon. Traffic still bustled around the roadworks in the one-way system. Soft rain still dampened the streets. Of the weather front that had brought snow to Banská Bystrica there was no sign. All she saw in the sky was ubiquitous English grey. Back to reality, she thought as she slammed the car door; back to her four investigations.
There had been room on the flight but she still had to pay to change her ticket. On the plane she had listened again to the recording of Grau Laska, explaining why he had disappeared from ProOptica and how the certification of the lenses had been interfered with. On its own it was not proof, but it could lead them to proof quickly enough; she believed that. Now all she needed to do, Eva considered as she climbed the stairs to the incident room, was persuade Sutton of what she thought should happen next.
Sutton didn’t seem especially pleased to see her, Eva thought as she knocked on the door of her office, but then again Sutton never seemed especially pleased to see anyone. ‘I didn’t expect you for another day,’ Sutton said
as she sat down. ‘Useful trip?’ At least she made some attempt to hide her scepticism.
Eva ignored it. ‘I think so,’ she told her as she pulled notes from her bag and placed them on the desk. She had to move a lamp to one side to make space. Sutton’s eyebrow twitched in irritation but she didn’t say anything. ‘At least I know why people are being murdered, and I know who will be next.’ Then she told Sutton about Laska, the lenses and the defective batch.
Sutton barely blinked while she spoke. ‘You’re telling me this has all been about faulty medical implants?’
‘That,’ Eva agreed, ‘and a huge amount of money. If somebody had discovered the implants were faulty it would have destroyed any chance of selling the business and its technology to the highest bidder, which is what they desperately need. Nobody would have touched them with a barge pole if it had become known their lenses were at risk of shattering inside patients’ eyes. This US company Kleinmann, or at least a division of it, is a respected world leader in medical devices. That means everything from pacemakers to breast implants. They do eyes too. That’s big business,’ Eva said, leafing through her notes. She flicked to the page where she had written down information from the company website while browsing on her phone on the plane: ‘50 per cent of the population of the entire planet needs vision correction. By 2050, 4.8 billion people are expected to be myopic. That’s short-sighted. And right now over 100 million people are suffering from preventable blindness caused by cataracts. Bright Eyes would address all of these problems in a single treatment, if it worked. For a chance to play in a market that size, three-quarters of a billion almost seems like peanuts. It’s a drop in the ocean compared to a multinational like Kleinmann’s research and development budget.’
‘And this Jelen character,’ Sutton said. ‘He thinks he can con a US multinational?’
‘He’s not trying to con them. He’s letting them con themselves. Remember, Chatham has nearly a thousand happy patients all with his implants. The best-quality vision you can even imagine is what he claims, and those people with the Bright Eyes lenses will back him up. What they don’t realise is that ten years from now they’re going to be blind and screaming in pain.’ She put her phone on Sutton’s desk. On its screen was a browser with a series of bookmarks open. ‘Just look at the list of medical devices that have failed. Breast implants that leak, surgical meshes for prolapsed uteruses that shrink and cause unbearable pain, adjustable gastric bands that result in post-surgical infection, all-metal hip replacements that leak chromium and cobalt into the bloodstream. By those criteria, Bright Eyes already seems like a stunning success. A thousand endorsements. For all we know Chatham might be grossly undervaluing the business.’
‘He might be,’ Sutton agreed, ‘but for that one detail.’ She leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. ‘Will Laska give evidence in court?’
‘Yes, but only if we find out who’s actually killing whoever had implants from the faulty batch. He’s afraid. He has good reason to be.’
‘But he has no idea who it is?’
‘He’s fairly certain who it’s not. It’s not Nicola Milne. I thought she was the anonymous source before I left and he all but confirmed it.’
‘She needs protection,’ Sutton said. ‘What needs to happen about Chatham?’
Eva took a breath. ‘It needs to be closed down. I actually don’t know how we do that, but they cannot be allowed to operate on a single new patient. More than that, there are at least two other potential victims of whoever is trying to cover this up.’
Sutton snapped. ‘You have names?’
‘I have numbers,’ Eva said. ‘I can get the names by cross-referencing them to the list Flynn was working on.’
‘Do it,’ Sutton said. ‘Then get uniform to take them into protective custody. I don’t want anyone saying we didn’t act when we had information.’ Sutton picked up her phone and dialled Flynn’s extension herself. ‘Anyway,’ she added after she had instructed Flynn to come to her office, ‘you need to talk to Becks. She’s been tracking down Fredrick Huss while you were away.’
The change of tack took Eva by surprise. ‘Ma’am?’
‘According to passport control Huss never left the country. He’s been in the UK all the time. We just have no idea where.’
* * *
Eva closed the door to the incident room. At least Sutton seemed more or less on side, she thought as she dumped her notes on a desk. Now all she had to do was convince Flynn, Jamie and Raj.
When she told them, Raj stared at her barely legible notes. He looked triumphant. ‘I knew there was going to be a buyout as soon as I saw the auditor’s background. You get a specialist for a deal like that. She’ll make a king’s ransom out of it too.’
‘But won’t Kleinmann realise when they test the lenses?’ Jamie said. ‘They will test them, right?’
‘They’ll test the lenses for optical quality,’ Eva said, ‘to be sure they perform as advertised. The kinoform is the clever part, so Laska told me. The resin will be passed off as run of the mill, already certified by a CE mark. He reckons they’ll run detailed computer simulations of the kinoform but there’s no reason not to just take the certification of the resin at face value.’
‘Classic sleight of hand,’ Raj pronounced. ‘Hide the problem in plain sight.’
‘But it’s out in the open now, right?’ Flynn said. ‘The whole deal comes tumbling down because of Laska’s evidence?’
‘It will do,’ Eva agreed, ‘eventually. All this has to be done through the regulators, though. The DCI is talking to the lawyers now to get a grip on the procedures. But it doesn’t help us directly with the murders. We know why, but we still don’t know who. If the regulators prevaricate then there’s even still a chance that Chatham’s deal with Kleinmann will go through.’
‘Can’t we just tell Kleinmann?’ Flynn asked.
Raj scoffed. ‘Can you imagine the shit-storm we’d face if we did? The police interfering in a business deal based on unsubstantiated evidence? Chatham would sue the county force, some smart lawyer would figure out how. By the time they’d finished we’d be paying Sutton to work here, not the other way around.’
Eva had to agree. ‘We have to let the regulators deal with Bright Eyes, there’s no other option. That doesn’t mean we have to sit on our arses though,’ she said as she gathered up her notes. ‘Raj, Jamie, we’re going to see Chatham. Let’s see if we can shake that tree until something falls out.’ Flynn raised an eyebrow. ‘I need you looking for Fredrick Huss,’ Eva told her. ‘Sod this pussyfooting around. I want him found and arrested on suspicion of the murder of Alicia Khan and in connection with the murders of Kelly Gibson, Olivia Russell and Grace Lloyd. I know it’s thin,’ she said as Flynn started to object, ‘but it’s all we’ve got. Something needs to break,’ Eva told them. ‘Let’s hope to God it’s not us.’
* * *
Sir Robin Chatham’s mouth hung slightly open. His pupils were dilated, Eva noticed, although she knew there had been no chemicals involved. For a while he lost the ability to speak. When he regained it his voice fairly dripped vitriol.
‘Are you completely insane?’
Eva brushed her trousers, folded her hands in her lap and did her damnedest not to yell at him. ‘This is a courtesy visit, Sir Robin. The police are not obliged to tell you anything given that this is now a matter for the regulators, but you were good enough to cooperate with us and so it only seemed reasonable to tell you of our findings. Your licence to implant Bright Eyes will be revoked in the next few hours. I’ve told you this now, so if you go ahead and operate on anyone I will be obliged to charge you with assault and actual bodily harm.’
‘Are you insane?’ Chatham screeched. ‘You’re going to take the word of some Eastern European factory worker over mine?’
‘This particular factory worker actually designed your lenses,’ Eva said, refusing to rise to his bait. ‘If anything he’s even more qualified to speak to the subject than you.’
Chatham seemed almost on the verge of having a seizure. ‘It will ruin us. You must know that. It’s unacceptable; where’s the evidence?’
Jamie and Raj stood at the back of Chatham’s office. ‘In four pairs of eyes that have been surgically removed,’ Eva told him.
‘How convenient,’ Chatham sneered.
She wanted to spit in his face then. ‘And in two pairs which have not been. We’ve identified the other individuals who were implanted with the faulty lenses.’
‘Then at least give me the chance to help them.’ Chatham slammed his fist down on his desk as he shouted. The computer screen jumped. Eva sensed Newton take a step forward in case Chatham tried to become more physical.
‘You can’t,’ Eva told him, ‘until it’s been proven you’re not implicated. I know,’ she said as he started to interrupt, ‘I know how unlikely that is, but it now seems probable that the four murders are connected with your attempt to sell Bright Eyes to Kleinmann Incorporated.’
‘It’s only seven pairs of lenses,’ Chatham bellowed. ‘I’ve implanted nearly a thousand.’
The door to Chatham’s office opened. Eva remembered the face that peered in quizzically. Jeremy Odie, business director, half stepped into the room. ‘Is everything okay?’ Odie asked, voice as perplexed as his expression.
‘No!’ Chatham almost screamed. ‘These—,’ he cut himself off from swearing, ‘the police want to stop us using Bright Eyes. There’s been a complaint, apparently. From Slovakia,’ he snarled.
Odie took two steps into the room. Newton and Raj both moved to stand next to Eva where she sat. Neal Garrick, the second ophthalmic surgeon, appeared behind Odie. ‘There is evidence of a connection between a faulty batch of lenses and the murders,’ Eva restated. ‘It seems likely whoever killed the victims was trying to cover up the fact the lenses were about to shatter, which would stop any deal with Kleinmann going ahead.’
