But the Children Survived

by A. L. Jambor

  It was very hard to concentrate on the migraine research he had to review. He was anxious about all he was planning to do. Could he pull this off? Could he make a drug that would save millions of babies?

  During his break, he went to see Paul in the warehouse. He asked if Paul could get him into the Freehold warehouse over the weekend.

  “Jeez, Antonio, I don't know. The Yankees have a home game this weekend. My friend's got tickets.” Paul shrugged his shoulders.

  “Could you just let me in? You can go to the game and come back for me later.”

  Paul laughed. “The game’s in New York, Antonio. I won’t be back till late at night.” Besides, Paul thought, if the little guy screwed something up then it would be Paul's ass on the line. He seemed okay, but you never knew.

  “I don't think so, Antonio. I like you and all, but it's my job, you see?”

  “What if you made me a key? How would they know?”

  Paul thought about this. There were three keys, and generally they weren’t locked up because they were in the office and the office was pretty secure. Anybody could take one.

  Paul put his finger up and left Antonio standing in the parking lot. He went inside the warehouse and came back out a few minutes later. He walked over to Antonio and put his out his hand. Antonio shook it and Paul put the key in his hand.

  “There's this idiot working here, his name is Ben. If they notice the key gone I’ll blame it on him. The guys will back me up because he's a real moron. Just give it back to me on Monday. Just remember, Antonio, leave it like you found it, understand?”

  “Capice.”

  Antonio smiled from ear to ear. Paul waved and went back into the warehouse.

  That evening Antonio told Teresa he was going to the attorney's office on Friday. He left her to think he was working on Saturday. He told her he would be in the vault and she wouldn’t be able to communicate with him, but he would be home early, around 3 p.m. She was so excited about meeting Rocky that she just kissed his cheek and didn’t question him further.

  “I'll try to take a picture of him. I just can't wait to see them together,” she said.

  Teresa was cooking dinner. She looked so happy. Antonio couldn’t understand how this whole process of creating puppies could bring such joy to Teresa. He liked animals well enough, but she seemed a little too obsessed with Chloe, a dog with little personality.

  Antonio looked at the dog sleeping in her little bed. She had a long body, not like a dachshund but more like a small barrel, and her legs were not that long either. Her head was small with a short snout, a button nose, eyes that bulged a little like a frog, and a tail that curled slightly at an upward angle. When Chloe was happy, she would shake her head from side to side and go around in a circle as if she had worms.

  Antonio shook his head. He just couldn't appreciate Chloe's inner beauty. For Teresa's sake, he hoped that Rocky could.

  The week went by so slowly that Antonio's patience was sorely tried. He was short with his assistants. He was short with Chloe and yelled at Teresa frequently. So much was riding on his meeting with the attorney, a man he didn’t know at all. He could be a complete charlatan, for all Antonio knew. He might take Antonio's money and rat him out to Jacob Wilmer.

  All week long, Antonio's stomach churned. Finally, Friday arrived. He went to work early so he could leave at 2:30. The attorney's office was in Freehold, so Antonio gave himself plenty of time to get there.

  The office was in an old Victorian home on Main Street. Antonio took the stairs to the second floor and was greeted by an older woman who had a sweet expression and asked Antonio to take a seat.

  “Mr. McKenzie will be with you shortly. Can I get you anything?”

  Antonio shook his head and thanked her. He sat down and she resumed her position behind an old oak desk. There was an electric typewriter off to one side and a large file cabinet farther over. The woman began typing.

  Antonio looked at the magazines on the table next to him. Forbes, Newsweek, Time, and Sports Illustrated. He picked up the Time magazine.

  Just as he was about to read, Mr. McKenzie came out of his office and greeted Antonio. He was an older man, maybe in his fifties. He had silver white hair, horn-rimmed glasses, an expensive suit and tie, and wingtip shoes. He introduced himself and asked Antonio to come into his office.

  Antonio was surprised by Mr. McKenzie's office. It was a very plain affair, a modest desk, a file cabinet, family pictures on the walls, and a dog sleeping in the corner.

  “That's Chester. He's a German Shorthaired Pointer. Had him since he was a pup. Now he’s 10 and lazy. Hope you don't mind him.”

  Antonio said no and they sat down, Mr. McKenzie behind the desk and Antonio opposite him in a comfortable wingback chair.

  “So, Mr. Russo, my secretary said you didn’t give her any specifics with regard to this visit. How can I help you?”

  Mr. McKenzie had a very calm air about him. His manner put Antonio at ease. The office surroundings suggested a man who wasn’t interested in showing off his wealth, but rather someone who had a desire to genuinely help his clients, no matter how much money they did or did not have.

  “I have to make sure about confidentiality.”

  “Confidentiality between an attorney and his client is sacrosanct. If I were to violate it, I would lose my license.”

  Antonio believed him. He began to recount all that he had been through, about Maggie, about his trip to New Mexico, and about his plan to search the files on Saturday. Mr. McKenzie listened attentively. He took notes on a yellow legal pad and when Antonio finished his story, Mr. McKenzie spoke.

  “You were very wise to seek counsel, Mr. Russo. I’ve done some work for the Wilmer's in the past, and they aren’t the most pleasant people. They also have a gaggle of lawyers hired just to watch out for people like you. You say this Mr. Ranier told you that there are no patents on the purple spores.”

  “That’s what he said, yes.”

  “And you’re not sure if Miss DeMorte had a patent on her plant?”

  “No, I never thought to ask her when she was alive.”

  “If you retain me, I’ll do some research through the patent office to see if any patents were ever filed for or granted. I’ll also look into Mr. Ranier's background. Tell me, Mr. Russo, have you any idea why James Wilmer gave you the $5,000?”

  “No, sir, he just said, ah, he said that he wanted to, ah...”

  “What, son? What did he want to do?”

  Antonio blushed slightly. “He said he wanted me to kick his brother in the ass.”

  Mr. McKenzie laughed out loud.

  “Son, if you knew the things I’ve heard in my life. It’s refreshing to see someone can still blush.” He laughed some more and then he looked seriously at Antonio.

  “Mr. Russo, this is a very serious undertaking you have planned. Do you believe you have the guts to go all the way with it? The Wilmers are mean bastards. They’ll kill you if they think you are taking something from them.

  “We have to cross our T's and dot our I's. Mr. Ranier's suggestion of a new name isn’t a bad idea at all. After I check for patents, we ‘ll discuss a new name for your plant, because it’s now going to be your plant.

  “I also have to find out how Brazil feels about this, quietly of course. I don't want to wake a sleeping giant now, do I?”

  He smiled at Antonio, who felt so relieved to have someone to help him at last. He had no trouble trusting Mr. McKenzie.

  Mr. McKenzie told Antonio that he wouldn’t be noting Antonio's foray into the Freehold warehouse.

  “I would have to disavow knowledge of your search, Mr. Russo. I cannot be a part of it. Do you understand?”

  “But what if I find out they have research there? Won't I have to tell you?”

  “Mr. Russo, if they have research there, then we are at an end. They’ll have the right to stop you if they figure out that they own research that supersedes your investigation, especially if you create somethi
ng that could hurt them financially. On the other hand, if there are no patents and we can find no ownership of the plants, then you can give them a new name and we can go forward applying for a patent for you.”

  Antonio again felt overwhelmed.

  “All I want to do is save women and babies.”

  “I understand that, Mr. Russo, and I’ll do everything I can within the law to help you create your drug. We will enter into an agreement by which you will pay me a flat fee of $1,000. If I find that the investigation requires more work than anticipated, I’ll prepare an addendum to our original agreement for another $1,000. I’ll send you a report of my findings as soon as I’m able to acquire more information.”

  Mr. McKenzie pulled a Fee Agreement out of his drawer and handed it to Antonio. Antonio read it and signed it at the bottom.

  Mr. McKenzie rose from his chair, indicating that the meeting was over. He came around the desk and opened the door. Antonio got up and followed him.

  “This is my secretary, Grace. If you need to call, you’ll most likely be speaking to her. Talking to her is like talking to me. You can trust her. You can leave a check with her. It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Russo. I’ll be in touch.”

  Mr. McKenzie disappeared into his office. Grace smiled at Antonio. He pulled out his checkbook and wrote a check, which he handed to Grace. She in turn wrote him a receipt and gave him Mr. McKenzie’s business card.

  “Call us if you have any questions Mr. Russo.” He nodded and left the office.

  All the way home he thought about what Mr. McKenzie had said about Wilmer being capable of killing him. He knew the Wilmers were tough, but he hadn’t thought he was putting his life in danger.

  And what about Teresa? The more he pondered his plan, the more his fear grew. Tomorrow he would carefully check the files. He would make sure there was no research there. He had to find out, but he also had to protect his family. For the first time in his life, Antonio was not sure of the path he was following.

  Chapter 28

  Saturday morning Teresa rose early. She loved the springtime. She and Antonio had bought a house in Colt's Neck after they drove down Route 537 and fell in love with the area. Teresa's parents gave them the down payment as a wedding present.

  Teresa loved that she could pass horses grazing on her way to school. Today the daffodils were in full bloom and she looked outside at the riot of yellow that covered her front lawn. She was waiting for her friend Lorraine to come so they could take Chloe to meet Rocky. Antonio had left early that morning, and she and Chloe were all alone.

  Chloe was acting funny. She kept hanging around Teresa's feet. Teresa looked at her and tried to see if there was something wrong. The little dog was lying on her side. Teresa noticed tiny drops of something red on the floor. She took a paper napkin and wiped Chloe's nether regions.

  The napkin revealed tiny spots of blood. Teresa rolled her on her back and looked at her tiny vagina. It was swollen. She would have to cancel their meeting with Rocky today.

  From what Teresa read, they would have to be brought together 10 days from now if she wanted to get Chloe pregnant. She called Rocky's parents, the Sheridans, and made arrangements to bring her over in 10 days. Then she called Lorraine to say they didn’t have to go to May's Landing today.

  “Yeah, Chloe’s in heat. She’s miserable. I may have to get her some diapers or something. Antonio is going to love this.”

  “Oh, he'll survive.” Lorraine said.

  “Yeah, but he hates the idea of me breeding her as it is. If he finds little drops of blood all over, it won't be pleasant.”

  They made arrangements to get together in 10 days to take Chloe south. After Teresa got off the phone, she put Chloe on a towel on her lap and they sat together while Teresa brushed her. Every time Teresa stopped brushing, Chloe would let out a little whine meaning, “Keep brushing.” Teresa happily obliged.

  “I wish someone would do this for me when I have the curse,” she said to the little terrier.

  *****

  Antonio had sifted through five years of files, covering 1950 – 1955. He found several references to George Ranier, but no mention of the Mortevida plants. He was growing hopeful that George's plants were so unimpressive that they didn’t even deserve a mention in the records. He was on the third manila folder in the 1956 box when something caught his eye.

  There was a reference to a formula that George had produced in his lab. The report mentioned a strange poison of unknown origin that George was trying to cultivate as a bug repellent. Antonio thought this might be the center of the leaf of the Mortevida plant.

  He went through file after file, but didn’t see this poison mentioned again. He went through the rest of the 1950s and took a break. He wished he’d asked George how long he’d worked with the plant. Antonio decided to go to the Jersey Freeze and try to call George on the store’s pay phone. He could also have something to eat while he was there.

  As luck would have it, he beat the lunch crowd and ate in relative peace. Then he went to the pay phone. He took out his wallet and found the small piece of paper he’d written George's number on. He dialed the operator and asked her to put the call on his home telephone number. Pretty soon he was talking to George and asking him how long he had worked with the Mortevida.

  George told him he’d worked with it until 1969. He’d extracted the parts he wanted to work with and had them frozen. The full plants had been kept in the vault, but had died due to lack of care.

  “So you stopped working with them altogether in 1969?” Antonio was taking notes as George spoke.

  “Yeah, we had what we needed by then.” George paused. “Why don't you look under 1979? There may be something there. Good luck, kid.”

  George hung up before Antonio could say good-bye.

  Antonio went back to the warehouse. He pulled the files for 1979 from the bottom of the shelving unit. He looked through the manila folder tabs and saw one marked “George Ranier.” He extracted the file and spread it open in front of him.

  The file began with a statement regarding a certain plant that George had brought back from the rainforest in the fifties. He had extracted the poison from the leaf of the plant and created the perfect base for a biological weapon. It was stable and remained effective after freezing and defrosting. Several lab rats could attest to that.

  George was attempting to create a method that would drop the poison over a controlled area. That was in 1969. Matthew Wilmer was still hoping to produce a bomb that would send countries scurrying to New Mexico. He was hoping for a bidding war. George was on the precipice of producing just such a weapon.

  Then came 1972 and the Biological and Toxin Convention. The Convention extended the 1925 ban to almost all production, storage and transport of biological weapons. This effectively killed Matthew Wilmer's dream. He put George's research on hold and put the poison in deep frozen storage. Antonio read the rest of the file and could find no mention of the name of the plant. Still, he decided to go a little further.

  After 1985, there was no mention of George. His poison was never mentioned again either. That was just 4 years ago. Antonio went through the late sixties and seventies. He was exhausted and it was beginning to get dark. He had promised Teresa he would be home by 3 p.m.

  He put the file boxes back in their places, leaving the George Ranier file out. He put it under his arm, left the warehouse and replaced the padlock. He stopped at Jersey Freeze and called Teresa. He apologized for being late, saying he’d had a flat tire. He bought her a sundae and drove home.

  *****

  Whatever George Ranier had been working on, it hadn’t involved the purple spores. Antonio believed he’d found what he needed. He began to draw up plans for his home laboratory. He met with an architect who designed a basic research lab that met Antonio's needs. He contracted plumbers and electricians, and installed freezers. Finally, he installed a sterilizer.

  When it was done, the lab provided Antonio with the means to cre
ate a miracle from his purple spores. He had chosen a new name for the plant – Dono di Russo – and contacted Mr. McKenzie to ask if he’d learned anything during his investigation.

  Stephen McKenzie was in the process of dictating a report to Antonio Russo when Antonio telephoned his office.

  “Hello, Mr. Russo. I've finished my investigation. Do you have time to come to my office?”

  Antonio agreed and arrived at Mr. McKenzie's office 20 minutes later. Grace escorted him into Mr. McKenzie's office. He sat down in the same comfortable wingback chair he had sat in during his first appointment.

  “I have good news for you, Mr. Russo. I was unable to find any patents filed by either Wilmer and March Pharmaceuticals or Miss Margaret DeMorte. Now, that doesn’t mean that Wilmer will have total amnesia regarding the Mortevida, especially if old Matthew Wilmer told Jacob anything about Ranier's research.”

  “I have to tell you something. It's about some information I’ve acquired.” Antonio waited for Mr. McKenzie to respond.

  “I am not going to ask where you acquired your information, Antonio.”

  “George never used the purple spores. He used only the poison. The name Mortevida is never mentioned in any report I could find.”

  “Interesting. Well, have you thought of a name for your discovery, Mr. Russo?”

  “I thought Dono di Russo sounded nice. It means Russo’s gift.”

  “Umm, that does sound nice. D O N O D I R U S S O. Yes, that should work out very nicely. I’ll get the patent application ready. I’ll need some input from you regarding species, genus, etc. My understanding of botany is extremely limited.

  “I’ll get the standard form ready, leaving blank spaces for you to fill in. When you send it back, I’ll have Grace finalize it and you can come in and sign it. Any questions Mr. Russo?”