“Trust me?”
“He was so sure about you. He told me that if Elia Christie chose you, you were all right.” She smiled, then fell silent.
“Did you know what he wanted to talk to me about?” Luis's tone was gentle.
“Yes.” Her voice was soft. As she spoke, she played with the ID tag hanging around her neck. “We talked about it. He tried to get some help, but hospitals are small towns, and doctors belong to the same fraternity.” She clenched her jaw. “His next step was the FDA.” She paused. “What's the use.” It wasn't a question.
Elia reached over and laid her hand across Angel's. “Angel, are you aware that the police in Bermuda think that Vicente may have been murdered?” Angel gasped audibly and jerked her hand to her mouth. She shook her head back and forth. “No,” she whispered.
“They'll find who did this to him, Angel. But if they knew what Vicente was concerned about — what he wanted to talk to Luis about — maybe that'll help. Maybe it's related.”
Angel bit her lip. “It is. I know it. I know it.” She moved to the edge of her chair. Before she could say anything further, a woman in scrubs entered the lobby and motioned to Angel.
“Excuse me a second, please.” She took a deep breath before walking away.
She returned moments later. “I'm so sorry. It seems I have a patient waiting for a treatment. Thank you so much for coming.” She took another deep breath and turned to leave.
“Wait, Angel,” Elia said. “We have to talk. I thought you got off duty at seven.”
“I do. I did. I mean I'm on second call, and a patient was ordered a stat treatment a short time ago. The attending asked for me to do it.” She shrugged. “I'm off tomorrow. Could we meet then?”
Elia pulled out her notebook. “What's your home phone number and address?” She scribbled down the information. “We'll call you in the morning.” Elia gave Angel a hug. “I want you to know that we promised Vicente's father we'd look into things here. We'll pack up his house; maybe you'd want to help?”
Angel nodded. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I don't know if I can do that.” Another deep breath. “I'll try.”
Elia gave her another hug. “I know how hard this is, but we have no idea what's Vicente's, and what's not. The police want to know what might be missing. But we'll talk about this tomorrow.”
Angel nodded and turned to leave.
They watched Angel leave the lobby. Elia called after her. Angel turned as Elia went to meet her. “Who ordered the stat treatment tonight?”
“Dr. Riser.” She gave a stiff wave and hurried out of the lobby.
“Well, that didn't get us very far.” Luis and Elia were at Heges Restaurant. They were nursing Margaritas at a table in the bar. The entrance to Kiawah was right down the road.
“We tried, Elia. We know Vicente was concerned — upset about Cyptolis.” Luis frowned, as if he had more to say.
“Luis? What?”
“We don't know why he was so secretive. He was going to present his paper, so that's not secret. What was he so frightened about?”
“His job? Could he lose his job?”
“I wouldn't think so. When I was in training, our professors gave high marks to anyone who presented a paper — whether it was in support of acceptable common practice, or not.”
“But it sounds like he lost out on the chief resident position for being outspoken.”
He took a swallow of his drink. “Sounds like it; that was a low blow.”
“Frightened.” She looked around the centerpiece at him, then finally pushed it out of the way. “Was he frightened? I mean, I know he was sick and scared about that, but was he frightened about work?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he wanted to talk to you about the outspoken business. Like should he be.”
Luis looked around the bar. “Thought so.” He nodded in the direction of a corner table. “Thought I smelled cigarette smoke. It's banned in Georgia.”
“Luis, Vicente.”
He leaned in and said in a whisper. “He was murdered. I'd say he had reason to be frightened.”
“But you haven't read the paper he was going to present — just his notes. Do you think there was something in the finished product? Something to be secretive about? Scared?”
“Riser promised me a copy.”
“Well, not quite. He said he'd try to get you a copy.” Elia licked the salt from the rim of her glass. “Angel might be able to tell us. Vicente was scared. I thought he was panicky because of his sickness, but I'll agree with you. Maybe his paper had something to do with his fear.”
“If my hunch is right, it had everything to do with it.” Luis motioned for the check. “I've got some research to do.”
Chapter 25
“It's from Bonnie Riser.” The concierge had handed Elia a message when they returned to the hotel. “She wants us to call her.” She tucked the message into her purse. As soon as they got to their rooms, she returned the call. “Just a second, let me check with Luis.”
Elia pressed the mute button. “She says Aaron Scharff's company is here for a meeting and the CEO is having a party in his suite tomorrow evening. We're invited. Want to go?”
Luis nodded. He was already seated in front of his computer.
“Yes, Bonnie, we'll be there.” She jotted down the information. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
Luis leaned back in his chair. “Another meeting? No wonder drugs cost so much.”
“What are you working on?” Elia sat on a loveseat with her feet tucked under her.
“I want to know what other new drugs Pavnor Pharmaceuticals has come up with.”
“And?”
“And maybe this has happened before. Maybe they've taken drugs off the market because of reported problems, and then put them back on under a new name.”
“Luis, you can't mean this was blatantly intentional. Surely this is sloppy research. Or maybe it's lax reporting? What kind of people would intentionally put something on the market that would hurt patients?”
“It's been done. Sometimes drugs with serious side effects serve a greater purpose, and the drugs are left on the market. But there's a black box around the name in the PDR to give doctors the information about the problems.”
“PDR?”
“Physicians’ Desk Reference. Lists every medication. With pictures, uses, doses, side effects, contraindications — everything about a drug. And a black box is placed around a drug with problems.” Luis looked up from the computer.
“But that's not all. There's something called an adverse event.” He interrupted himself to explain the term. “That's any adverse change in health or any side effect that shows up in a patient from the treatment in a clinical trial. Or even shows up within a pre-determined period after the treatment is completed. And these events have to be reported to regulatory authorities.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.” He paused. “Serious problems — if the patient requires hospitalization, or develops a life-threatening condition, or hell, dies — serious problems have to be reported immediately. Minor problems just have to be documented in an annual summary.”
“And Cyptolis?”
“Nada. Nothing. No black box, no documentation of an adverse event.”
“Why not? Luis, why would someone hold that back?”
He shook his head.
“And why try to kill us?”
“We weren't killed. Just frightened. Maybe to scare us off.” He shrugged.
“Why?”
“And why murder Vicente?”
“To cover up.” She sounded sad.
“That. And what's the root of all evil?”
“Money.”
Chapter 26
Elia and Luis were up early the next morning. After coffee, Elia looked at her watch. “Not too early.” She dialed Angel's number. “Angel? It's Elia. We're going to Vicente's this morning. Would you like to meet us there?”
S
he frowned as she listened to Angel's response. “I know this is a bad time for you, and we hate to rush you, but the homeowner is coming in tomorrow and we want to get Vicente's personal items out of there.” Elia looked over at Luis and shrugged. “Angel, we have to talk. Please come.” She replaced the receiver a moment later.
“Well?”
“She's coming. I hate that I'm pushing her. I know when my parents died, it was terrible to go into their house and pack up. Raf and I cried the whole time we were working.”
“It's tough.” He lapsed into silence. He, too, had to pack up after a death. He stood at the door of the balcony looking out at the sea. Elia came up and slipped her hand into his. “Let's hop on our bikes and blow off this melancholy.”
“What time do you think Angel will get here?” They were riding beside the water on hard-packed sand.
“She said an hour, or so.”
“That'll give us time to ride to the end of the island and back before she gets here.” Luis checked his watch. “Let's shoot for ten at Vicente's.”
They rode in silence. The tide was out; the beach was vast. “What are you thinking? Elia looked over at her husband. “You're lost in thought; I can tell.”
“I'm thinking I'd like to get my hands on that paper Vicente was going to present.”
“You have his notes. That's not enough?”
“I just can't see it.”
She put on her brakes and stopped suddenly. Luis was twenty feet ahead of her when he looked over and saw she wasn't following.
“What is it?” He rode back to where she had stopped.
“Motive. What's the motive? Cover up? Money? Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with the drug.”
“Well then, what's Vicente have to do with it?”
“Luis, you said yourself that you couldn't find anything in the notes. Maybe it's something else.”
Luis shook his head. “What are we doing? This isn't our job. Let's clear out Vicente's things and let the police sort it out.” He turned his bike around. “Let's go back and get started.”
They pushed their bikes up the ramp to the boardwalk that crossed over dunes. In Kiawah, the dunes are fiercely protected. No one sets foot on them. Homes are built far from the ocean, back behind two dunes.
They walked their bikes down the path toward the street. It was cool under the canopy of trees. The mass of vegetation bordering the path was thick and jungle-like.
They walked single file until they were on the road. The streets were almost empty; tourists would soon start coming to the island, but it would still be quiet — even the beaches. A wide expanse of sand at low tide gives everyone plenty of room.
When they reached Vicente's street, their pedaling slowed. “I know how Angel feels. I don't want to go in, either,” Elia said as they parked their bikes in the driveway. “Does it bother you?”
Luis put his hands on Elia's shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You knew him. You have memories. I have none. Of course you are affected.” He pulled her close and gave her a hug. “Honey, I'm so sorry.” Then he released her and took her hand. “Come on; let's get started.”
They opened the door and stepped into the mess they had seen earlier. “What were they looking for? Did they find it?” Elia turned in a circle. “I hope not.”
She dug through her purse and pulled out her notebook. She picked up Vicente's phone, and studying her notebook, began punching in numbers.
Chapter 27
“Who are you calling?”
“Vicente's father. Maybe he… Wait, it's ringing.”
When Señor Pereda came to the phone, Elia spoke quietly to him. She explained the scene in his son's home.
“I have no idea what people are looking for, or whether they found it. I know we talked about this, but have you thought about anything that might help?”
Elia shook her head to let Luis know what Pereda's answer was. “Señor, we met the woman Vicente was seeing. She's going to help us pack up his belongings.”
Elia paused and then said almost to herself, “I wonder where Vicente would hide something.” She was jolted out of her reverie and held the phone tighter to her ear. She seemed to pay close attention to whatever Pereda was saying.
“Banjo?” Elia said. “Of course!”
“Banjo?” Luis mouthed.
“Gracias, señor, we'll call you later. Salud a tu esposa.” Elia put the phone down. “Banjo clock. The Peredas have a banjo clock hanging on the wall in their parlor in Lima.” Elia held up the house key she still clutched in her hand. “Vicente's mother kept this key in the clock.” She spun around looking at the walls. “Vicente has one, too.”
“There it is.” Luis pointed to a clock hanging on a far wall. It did look like a banjo. It was about twenty-six inches in height and ten inches in width at its widest part. A gold eagle finial rested atop the mahogany case.
Luis stood in front of the clock and studied its face. He had been collecting antiques for several years, and had several old clocks. “Sessions. Nice.”
“Don't touch it.” Elia dug in her purse for a tissue. “Here, use this.”
“What are we looking for with this clock?”
“Whatever someone else was looking for.”
“Documents, let's hope.” At the bottom of the clock, beneath the hanging pendulum, was a glass door the size of a greeting card. The glass was covered with an aged painting. It was a tranquil scene of a man and boy fishing from the entrance of a covered bridge. In the painting, a small boat sailed in the distance.
Luis opened the glass door. “Like father like son. Well, like mother…” He held up a key, studied it and handed it to Elia. “I was hoping for something more.”
“Well, it's a start.” She slipped it into a pocket.
Chapter 28
Angel arrived on schedule. She parked her car beside the bikes, turned off the engine and sat in the car looking straight ahead, her hands still on the steering wheel. She laid her head on her hands. Prominently displayed through the windshield was a long-term visitor's pass
Elia looked out the window. “Angel's here.” She squinted. “What's she doing? Just sitting there?” Elia was about to open the door when Luis stopped her.
“Wait. She'll come in when she's ready.” He poked around in the kitchen and found a tea kettle. “We'll give her something hot and soothing when she comes in.”
Elia sat on a stool at the bar and watched her husband prepare the tea. “You know, the first time I met you, I sat at your kitchen counter.” Elia had gone to Luis's home to interview him for the story she was working on for Augusta Magazine about violent crime investigators. As a feature writer, she had never written about crime, violent or otherwise. But that story changed her life. And Luis's.
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her.
“What is it, Luis?”
“You came into my life like an angel.” He leaned across the bar and kissed her gently on the lips. “Okay. Back to work.”
He opened the freezer and found a box of Thin Mints Girl Scout Cookies. “Ah. Vicente and I had a lot in common.” They stopped their bantering when the front door opened and Angel gasped.
Elia met her at the door with a hug and led her into the kitchen. “This looks like the only spot they didn't tear apart.”
Luis gave Angel a hug and motioned for her to sit. He cut up a slightly withered-looking lemon, poured the tea, and dropped a slice in each cup. “Drink this, Angel. It'll warm you.” He put his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze.
He set out the cookies. When Angel saw them she smiled. “Vicente bought four boxes. Girl Scouts were selling them outside the grocery store.” She took a sip of her tea. “We stopped on the way to the island, and there were Girl Scouts sitting in front of the door selling box after box.” Her smile disappeared. “He told them he'd be back next year.”
The three of them were silent.
Elia cleared her throat. “Angel, we have to talk.”
“I
know. I want to.”
“We think Vicente's death had to do with the paper he was going to present.”
“But maybe not, Elia,” Luis said. “I didn't see anything in his notes to suggest that he was going to talk about something that would cause his…” he hesitated and glanced at Angel, “his murder.”
“The drug shouldn't have been on the market; wasn't that what he was going to talk about?” Elia said. “Simple as that.”
“Vicente is,” she stopped. “Was very ethical.” Angel was about to continue when the doorbell rang.
Luis went to the door. They heard, “Oh my god,” in a woman's voice. Luis led the woman to the kitchen.
“Bonnie?”
“Elia.” Bonnie Riser came and gave Elia a hug. “And you must be Angel. I am so sorry for your loss. Vicente was such a nice man, and according my husband, a good doctor.”
“Angel, this is Bonnie Riser, Dr. Riser's wife.”
Bonnie held out her hand to Angel.
“How did you know we were here?” Elia asked.
“Jake told me you were going to be packing up.” She looked across the bar into the living room. “What happened here?”
“A break-in.” Elia said.
“On Kiawah? That doesn't happen very often.” Bonnie walked into the living room and looked around. She shook her head. “What'd they take?”
“We don't know. We don't know what was here. Angel's going to help us.”
“I know you have a lot to do, but I wanted to invite you to our spa here on the island. You come, too, Angel. You both could use some pampering after all you've been through.” She looked around the room again. “And what you still have to go through. Would tomorrow suit you?
Die Before Your Time (Elia Christie / Luis Echevarria medical mysteries) Page 9
