by Robin Cook
“Delightful,” Paula answered sarcastically. “How was yours?”
“I liked the first half better than the second,” he said.
Paula laughed softly. She reached out and squeezed his hand under the table. “I think I preferred the first part as well.”
“What did you think of the room service?”
“Better than expected,” Paula admitted. “The whole situation defies belief. I never expected a breakfast like that, especially not with a newspaper.”
“Did you sleep?” he asked.
“Not a wink. You?”
“Surprisingly, I did. I suppose it was thanks to my previous night in jail.”
“Lucky for you,” Paula said. Regaining some of her courage, she called out to the attendants, “How long do we have to wait?”
“Not long,” came the reply.
As if on cue, the door to the room opened and three men appeared.
Both Paula’s and George’s jaws dropped in utter shock. They couldn’t have been more shocked if the president of the United States had just walked in.
53
MENTAL HEALTH FACILITY
HOLLYWOOD HILLS, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
MONDAY, JULY 7, 2014, 9:05 A.M.
Bradley Thorn, Lewis Langley, and Clayton Hanson entered the room and took seats opposite George and Paula. They avoided eye contact with their totally dumbfounded hostages. It was as if they were embarrassed.
Thorn set a folder on the table with particular deliberateness, adjusting it to be perfectly perpendicular to the table’s edge. He made himself comfortable in his chair and only then did he look across at George and Paula. Langley and Clayton had followed suit but without the folder. For a few pregnant moments the five people stared across the table at one another.
George felt a certain relief in seeing these men, recognizing that there had to be some reason other than death or rendition for why he and Paula had been snatched in the middle of the night. These were professional businessmen and doctors, not murderous thugs. And perhaps most important from George’s perspective, they were not representatives of some secret government organization, or at least he didn’t think they were.
Finally, Thorn cleared his throat. “I can only imagine your surprise. First off, let me apologize on behalf of all of us for the ordeal you’ve suffered, which we heard about only this morning. We can well imagine that it must have been frightening, but as you will soon learn, the situation was thought to be an emergency, and the people in charge didn’t want to take any chances. Actually there was one man in charge, and that was Mr. Gauthier, Amalgamated’s head of security.”
“What?” Paula shouted, practically leaping out of her seat. She pounded the table with both her fists. Everyone at the table jumped. “Amalgamated was responsible for our being kidnapped! You?” Her eyes drilled into Thorn’s. Her voice was shrill and angry. Several of the attendants stepped forward in case they needed to restrain Paula.
Thorn lifted his hands as if he thought he needed to protect himself. He momentarily averted his eyes from Paula’s accusatory stare. He spoke in a carefully modulated voice. “In the final analysis, yes, I am ultimately responsible. Although I should reiterate that in the urgency of the situation, the decision of how to handle it was made by Mr. Gauthier, and I, or should I say we, learned about how the operation had been carried out only after the fact.” Thorn glanced at Langley and Clayton, who both nodded in agreement.
“As head of security, this was in his domain, and he decided it was an extreme situation that needed to be turned over to professionals to whom he has access when the need arises. Ergo, the strong-armed methods that you unfortunately experienced. But still, we are all responsible. So, we again apologize.”
“But why?” Paula demanded, now with more disbelief than anger. It was apparent that she was not about to let Thorn off the hook with a mere mea culpa.
“That’s what we are here to explain,” Thorn said patiently. “We, or at least I, fully expected your deserved outrage, and I accept your anger as appropriate. We know that your being dragged here in the middle of the night with no explanation must have been unnerving, to say the least. But, again, Gauthier thought that it was best to act rapidly and—”
“Where the hell are we?” Paula interrupted with venom. “All we’ve been told is that this is some sort of a private mental health and addiction facility.”
“That is correct,” Thorn said. “It once was a top-secret military film studio. It dates back to the early forties. It was later transformed into a private treatment center for celebrities with addiction problems and for wealthy families who sought complete discretion for their children, who were often brought here, as you were, in the middle of the night. Amalgamated picked up ownership as part of a package deal for a hospital chain. Although we were initially indifferent to its ownership, subsequently we have found the facility handy for a number of functions.”
George remembered that once Zee had pierced the high-anonymity proxy servers, he had identified a server bank located somewhere in the Hollywood Hills. George wondered if those servers were in this facility behind the many closed doors.
“Where is this facility?” George asked, speaking for the first time.
“The Hollywood Hills. Laurel Canyon, to be precise. Few people are aware of its existence. Even most neighbors aren’t aware of it. We’re very secluded up here, despite being ten minutes from the Sunset Strip.” He motioned out the window. “There’s considerable wooded property with an elaborate security system, surrounded by electrified razor-wire fencing.”
George nodded, trying to keep himself calm in contrast to Paula. It seemed to George that Thorn was doing more than giving them a verbal tour of the facility. He was sending a message: Paula and George could be held in the facility and no one would know. Some of the fear that George felt before Thorn, Langley, and Clayton had walked into the conference room returned.
As if reading George’s mind, Thorn continued: “The fencing guarantees security both for people getting in and people getting out. We have a very discreet, well-trained staff who are accustomed to dealing with clients who have been brought here against their will according to dictates of their families or executors.” He nodded at the attendants.
“Okay, okay,” Paula said as she closed her eyes and seemingly counted to ten. “Just how long must we stay here? And why? What’s the emergency?”
George cringed at Paula’s tone. It seemed that he more than she was conscious of their vulnerability.
“All very good questions,” Thorn said. “The answer as to length of time is entirely up to you. We would like to get you home as soon as possible. But your leaving is going to require some assurances from you.”
“Assurances about what?” George blurted.
“In order to understand the current problem, we want to be sure we have your undivided attention.”
George and Paula exchanged a disbelieving glance in response. It didn’t seem real to George. He could tell Paula felt the same way. “Of course you have our undivided attention!” George snapped, despite his attempt to contain his emotion. “After being kidnapped in the middle of the night and terrified out of our minds! Please!”
“I’ll take that as a yes from you both.” Thorn cleared his throat again as he motioned for the attendants to leave the room. He looked at Paula and George and smiled as the attendants headed for the door. It was clear that this had been decided beforehand. Thorn fingered what appeared to George to be a small wireless electronic fob with a button on it. “They’ll be right outside if they are needed.” Thorn placed the fob on the table, to be used if necessary. George got the message.
Once the attendants were gone and the door closed, Thorn began. “I want to emphasize first that the beta test has gone much better than expected and has been an enormous success, thanks to you, Paula, for the idea in the
first place, and thanks to Lewis and his team for the consummate programming effort.”
Langley nodded, appreciating the recognition.
“But,” Thorn continued, “we have hit a bump in the road. A glitch has appeared. It was not even noticed at first. In retrospect, we realize that it started several months ago, but that was only after we knew what we were looking for and had looked at it retrospectively. The glitch came to our full attention only during the previous week, and I should add it had nothing to do with iDoc’s functioning in general, nor did it have anything to do with iDoc’s acceptance as the primary-care practitioner of choice of thousands of people. iDoc continues to work far better than our most optimistic predictions. It has been fantastic. iDoc promises to be a win-win situation for patients and the country, and the world, for that matter. It will return some sense to a health care system that has always seen a dearth of primary-care doctors and a lack of emphasis on prevention.”
George’s hands, clasped in front of him, began to rub against each other and his right leg started to bounce under the table. Despite trying to rein in his emotions, he found himself progressively impatient for Thorn to get to the point.
But Thorn didn’t. He went on to say that iDoc was going to have an enormously positive effect on the health of millions and in the process would save countless billions of dollars. It would also eliminate the need for millions of doctor’s office visits and equally important ER visits, which would also save an enormous amount of money over the years. “I am certain both of you understand all this,” Thorn said, as if sensing George’s impatience. “Especially since George here played a role in giving Paula the concept in the first place.” Thorn looked directly at George. “Amalgamated would like to financially recognize your contribution, but more about that later. iDoc is a fantastic opportunity for Amalgamated since we will be billing for iDoc user access—”
Paula interrupted angrily, taking the words right out of George’s mouth. “Enough of this shit! You’re not telling us anything we don’t already know. I think you should just get to the damn point. We don’t need a lecture.”
“Patience, Paula, patience.” Thorn raised a restraining hand. “Here’s something you don’t know: negotiations with Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, or CMS, have progressed to the point where they agreed to do their own beta test with iDoc. They are very excited about our baby. ‘Your baby,’ Paula. Isn’t that how you refer to it?” He managed a smile at her with a patronizing wink. “Which means that unless there is an unforeseen problem, Medicare and Medicaid beneficiaries will eventually all have iDoc at their disposal. That’s somewhere around a hundred million people!
“And the negotiations with foreign governments, particularly European, are all going swimmingly. Added to that, we now have commitments from a number of hedge fund managers who will be injecting many hundreds of millions of dollars into Amalgamated, so that iDoc’s general release will all happen quickly and seamlessly.”
Paula interrupted again. “This all sounds well and good, but I don’t understand how it applies to George and me!”
Thorn raised his hands yet again to calm Paula. “I merely wanted to remind the two of you about all the good news on the horizon before getting back to the fly-in-the-ointment: the glitch.”
The word hung in the air.
“It first appeared with a patient at Santa Monica University Hospital. Unfortunately it was a young woman who had serious medical issues. The glitch resulted in this individual’s passing.”
George stiffened, realizing that Thorn might very well be talking about Kasey. He felt a wave of anger at hearing someone characterize Kasey’s death as a glitch. Even Thorn’s use of the laundered term passing irritated him. With effort, George held his tongue.
“The glitch subsequently appeared with patients frequenting the L.A. University Medical Center in Westwood. That’s something that you, George, noticed.”
George nodded, then suddenly added, “Calling it a glitch camouflages what it really is. It is the apparently purposeful killing of iDoc patients. People. Human beings with friends, family . . . loved ones.”
George’s vehemence silenced Thorn for a moment. There was a brief pause until Thorn nodded solemnly. “I admit that the glitch has been associated with unexpected death, but I wouldn’t use the term purposeful. “How many deaths did you notice at the medical center?”
“You’re asking only about the L.A. University Medical Center?” George asked.
“Yes.”
“Four.” He didn’t even want to mention Kasey’s name. It would be a disservice to her memory under the current circumstances.
Thorn looked toward Langley and Clayton. Both nodded in agreement.
“There were three more at Santa Monica University and three at Harbor University Hospital,” Langley added.
George wondered if the three at Santa Monica included Kasey but didn’t ask.
“What did your investigation of these deaths turn up?” Thorn continued. “What was the cause?”
For a moment George debated what to say. It was hard to organize his thoughts with all the emotion he was feeling.
“Your cooperation is needed, George,” Thorn prompted. “Especially if you are interested in leaving this mental health facility sooner rather than later.”
George felt Paula grip his thigh. He took a deep breath. “If you are asking about confirmed results, I’d have to restrict my impressions to Sal DeAngelis.”
“What were you able to learn? And how?”
George shifted in his chair, debated with himself how up front he should be.
“We are counting on your being honest,” Thorn said, as if reading George’s mind. “Just as we are prepared to be straightforward with you. What we have in mind,” he added, motioning first to George and Paula and then to Langley and Clayton, “is for all of us to be on the same side.”
George looked from one man to the other, trying to gauge their sincerity. All three stared back, unblinking. Clayton in particular had hardly spoken since he walked in the door. George had no idea what he was thinking.
George cleared his throat. He glanced at Paula.
She nodded to him and gave his thigh another squeeze.
“I thought the drug reservoir in all of these people had played a role. I made the effort to find the reservoir that had been embedded in DeAngelis’s abdomen.”
“How did you manage that?” Thorn asked.
“It wasn’t easy. First I tried to obtain it at the morgue, where I saw Clayton apparently doing the same.”
Thorn and Clayton exchanged a glance.
Clayton spoke for the first time. “I did go to the morgue for that reason but didn’t find the reservoir.”
Thorn nodded and looked back at George. “Go on.”
“Well, I didn’t know it wasn’t where it was supposed to be. I then tried to retrieve it from the corpse at a funeral home. That’s when I realized that it had already been removed. And since I had seen several people searching DeAngelis’s apartment, I assumed everyone was looking without success. So, I figured maybe DeAngelis had succeeded in cutting it out of himself while driving to the medical center. I located the crash vehicle at a salvage yard and was able to find the reservoir inside the car.”
“You found it?” Thorn asked nervously. He exchanged a quick glance with his colleagues.
“I did. With a lot of effort.”
“Did you examine it?” Thorn asked.
“Of course. I used a dissecting microscope. The reservoir was completely empty, which I thought very disturbing, since it was supposed to have lasted for several years. Not two months.”
“What did you deduce from the empty reservoir?”
George looked directly at Thorn, thinking the executive was being deliberately obtuse. “I was worried that it had been a deliberate event and that—”
Thorn interrupted. “What do you mean by ‘a deliberate event’? Let’s call a spade a spade. You thought his death was a homicide?”
“Yes,” George said, nodding. The cat was now out of the bag. “And I set out to prove it.”
“And how did you do that?”
“I had gotten hold of DeAngelis’s broken smartphone and had an IT-savvy friend of mine see if he could determine if the phone had received a message to do a global dump, meaning emptying the reservoir all at once. My friend confirmed that to be the case. The phone had jammed from the force of the crash, meaning its memory hadn’t been remotely wiped clean by iDoc. An unaltered record of iDoc issuing a mass dump is in my possession.”
Thorn looked to Langley with a frown. Langley squirmed.
“I knew then that Sal’s death had been deliberate, not a malfunction of either the reservoir or the smartphone. I then encouraged my friend, Zee Beauregard, to try to hack into the iDoc servers to see if he could find the command to do the dump. I was worried about that type of thing after reading an article describing the potential problem of hackers breaking into wireless health care devices.”
“You had your friend do this even though you and he knew that hacking into iDoc servers was a serious crime?”
“Of course!” George snapped irritably. “But the circumstances warranted the risk!”
Thorn held up his hand. “Please. I commend both your reasoning and your persistence.”
Langley was impatient now; the discussion was getting into his bailiwick. “What did this Zee fellow find?”
“At first everything seemed normal. There was no evidence of a global-dump command, meaning that Sal’s smartphone had been hacked. But then Zee noticed something that he called an artifact. The presence of this artifact indicated to him that there had been an overwrite of the record. He reasoned that there probably had been a dump command, but it had been overwritten. He found the same artifact in all five of the cases I was looking into. It wasn’t an easy thing to spot on its own, but the fact that it appeared exactly seventeen minutes before the death of each of the five patients helped him identify it.”
