“And she meant the deal involving Project Neon?”
“Yes, I asked her that and she confirmed that was the deal she was talking about.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“Only that she objected to being on speaker phone.”
“So, she may have known someone else in your firm was in on this set-up and was presumably in conflict with you,” said Michael.
Agent Weber was scribbling furiously on his note pad.
“Do you think the Senator’s murder has anything to do with Project Neon?” asked Evie.
“It’s possible,” said Michael. “Although he’s the one who was granting access to the prize. Unless, whoever he was splitting the payoff with lost interest in sharing.” He glanced at Agent Weber who nodded.
“When I awoke from the coma and heard about the murder and what the press is saying about me, I had all these thoughts in my head.” Evie looked over at Agent Weber as she spoke. “I thought you would think I was getting revenge on the Senator for having terminated our alleged affair. Or, perhaps I had conspired with him to arrange the GC Quadra government contract award and then decided I wanted to keep all the money myself. I figured Alan would just kill me and make it look like a suicide.”
“Your mind has been active while you’ve been recovering.”
“When so much is at stake, I guess the adrenaline superseded the toxicity of the drugs.”
Agent Weber asked, “Will you come in and help us sort through some evidence we collected from Alan’s office?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “Did the Adelio family provide any information?”
“The Adelios suspected that the purchase price was inflated to pay off a bribe and they had their suspicions about the government contract GC Quadra was to be awarded. They had already initiated legal steps to dissolve their partnership, but Emira tried to stop the deal to save her family’s finances,” said Weber.
“She and her family had invested their entire fortune in Romez Nuevo, and she apparently flew to New York to find you and solicit your help to crater the deal. Unfortunately, she was murdered before she could meet with you,” added Michael.
“Who killed her?”
“It appears to have been a pro hired by the Adelios’ business partner,” said Weber.
“So, Alan wasn’t directly responsible for her murder,” she said almost to herself. “That drug they gave me—would it’ve killed me?”
“Apparently, because you had an allergic reaction, your prognosis would not have been good had you not gotten medical attention when you did,” said Michael.
“You aren’t the only person he was drugging, by the way,” said Weber. “Jack Hanover’s blood work revealed an interesting mix.”
“Oh my God. Where did Alan get these drugs?”
“Apparently, Project Neon is not his only game. Alan has another revenue stream—peddling FDA approvals to the pharmaceutical industry,” said Michael.
“So, he’s got dirty FDA officials in his pocket, too?”
“Who knows what else he’s into,” said Michael.
“It appears that the drug pipeline has been going on for a while. Project Neon may not have been his first attempt at government-related fraud. Project Neon involves handing out government projects for money. This other scheme seems to be selling government approvals. Whichever conspiracy preceded the other, I guess he was diversifying,” said Michael chuckling.
“Wow. To think all this was going on as Alan kept up appearances in the firm and put himself out there as Senator Arbeson’s spokesperson,” said Evie.
She watched Michael take a sip of water from another Styrofoam cup before he spoke.
“Yeah. He apparently had numerous drugs on an accelerated approval plan. One of them was the last trademark in a series that you had printed out an email about—”
“Oh, yes! That email I tried to send Paul about that trademark search on Neolactin. Finley Regent’s people apparently didn’t request it.”
“Alan probably did. Along with a list of others. Real arrogance to use a client’s identity to have you do trademark searches for drugs he was trying to slip under the radar,” said Michael.
“He did a pretty good job of using my identity,” she said.
“Alan really did make a thorough attempt to steal your name and hijack your communications, and make good use of them, but he fortunately came up short,” said Michael.
Agent Weber continued, “We’ve got a veritable dossier of information on these activities the firm was claiming ignorance of.”
“They never did believe me. Only Hanover … so I guess that’s why Alan tried to drug him to death. You know, there’ve been a lot of stories in the news recently about drugs with severe side effects and addictive properties. And calls for the FDA to pull approvals. I wasn’t really paying attention, but now that I think about it, some of the trademarks we cleared may be associated with some of those—”
“There’ve been some articles lately in the New York Times questioning the FDA’s procedures and some of its management,” said Michael. “They’re engaged in a feasibility study for a new electronic system. They’ve been looking into various technologies, but bureaucracy being what it is—they were sufficiently distracted. Alan and his facilitators took full advantage.”
“That’s true,” added Agent Weber. “All internal resources have been focused on counterfeiting. Fakes that are marketed as legitimate drugs. Investigations of counterfeit drugs have increased to over 20 per year since 2000. Up from five per year in the nineties.”
“Were some of those drugs that’ve been in the news ones that Alan pushed through the approval process?”
“We don’t yet know if Alan was pushing counterfeits. It appears that he was primarily manufacturing the approvals for new, untested or failed drugs to get them on the market earlier so companies could realize earlier and larger profits.”
“Gambling that not enough people would become ill or die from the dangerous ones for anyone to notice,” added Michael.
Agent Weber nodded. “It will take some time to sort through the details,” he said. “There will likely be some government officials that will soon be relieved of duty. The U.S. Attorney’s Office is wading through all of it now.” His PDA interrupted his thoughts and he held up the device so he could read the message.
“Okay. Good news,” he said as he continued reading.
Evie and Michael exchanged glances and turned their attention toward Agent Weber.
“Alan’s in custody,” he said simply.
“Is it over?” asked Evie.
“Well, we hope you’re still willing to testify,” said Weber.
“I will.”
“There will be a grand jury. An indictment is looking much more likely.”
“Yeah? Did they find something else?” asked Michael.
Agent Weber glanced back at the screen of his handheld.
“Not to get too technical,” he said, “but there were files on Alan’s computer symbolically linked to core files. Files Alan probably didn’t even know existed.”
“A trail of his activities?” asked Evie.
“Apparently, a number of files have been deleted, but core files were replete with what are called file descriptors and a scorecard of attempts to create backdoors to other systems outside the firm,” he paused. “Government systems.”
“Alan was trying to hack into the computer systems of the federal government?” asked Evie.
“Well …”
“Maybe he had some underemployed hacker working for him,” said Michael.
“It’s unclear exactly what his purpose was, or the scope of his activities, but he was intercepting some electronic communications of the members of the Appropriations Committee of the United States Senate.”
“The government contract award for GC Quadra!” said Evie.
“It appears Alan was making sure that the other members of the Committee were in concert with Senat
or Arbeson.”
“So, even though Senator Arbeson was with him on the sole source arrangement, he wasn’t confident the deal was going to go through unchallenged,” said Michael. “He must’ve thought his twenty-five mil was slipping away.” He glanced at Agent Weber. “This has to erase any remaining doubt about Evie’s innocence.”
“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this,” added Agent Weber, “but our IT investigation team found a reference to the timing of the Senator’s demise.” He paused and frowned. “Pre-dating the event.”
“No way he’s going to avoid an indictment now,” said Michael. “Live by the computer, die by the computer.” Michael smiled and patted Evie’s hand. “Electronic pulses of ones and zeroes are going to put this guy away for a long time where he won’t like the company.”
Evie took a relaxing breath and her parched lips formed a smile. She shifted in her bed to try to get comfortable and took a bite of fruit.
The hospital room door suddenly opened again, and Joe stood in the doorway. Evie’s heart skipped a beat. As he got closer, she could see that he had some bruises and cuts on his face.
“Hey Joe,” said Michael. He invited Joe to take the seat he had been using by Evie’s bed. Joe walked over to the bed and sat down next to Evie. Their eyes were locked on each other for several awkward seconds as Agent Weber looked over at Michael and beckoned him to join him in leaving the room.
“Well,” said Agent Weber looking back over his shoulder. “We’ll pick this up later.”
“Yeah,” said Michael nodding. “Evie, we’ll have to …” he decided to finish his sentence later, when she might actually hear it.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, her focus still locked on Joe as the door closed behind Michael.
Joe reached for her hand and kissed it. She thought she saw some moistness in his eyes.
“So,” she said. “I have a feeling you met Alan.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t get along too well.”
“Are you okay? They said you have broken ribs.”
“I’m fine. They’re just cracked. He got in a cheap shot or two.”
“I have to say … I’m glad you hit him. Did he tell you anything?”
“No, but I didn’t really expect him to. How are you? I looked in on you earlier, but you were sleeping.” He smiled and rested her hand gently back on the bed.
“They say I’m going to be okay. What were you planning to do if I turned up dead?”
“I probably would’ve committed a murder myself.”
“I tried to call you. While I was being kidnapped. I didn’t realize at the time that they had removed the battery from my BlackBerry.”
“I know. Your things were recovered.”
“Do you think Alan had Senator Arbeson killed?”
“Well, I think he was pissed that his twenty-five million dollar commission was slipping though his fingers.”
“Agent Weber said that there are lots of suspects, but they’ve got some pretty incriminating evidence against Alan.”
“Maybe his fiery Latin wife put a hit out on him. Maybe she found the divorce laws unsatisfactory.”
She laughed, but caught herself. “Joe, a U.S. Senator is dead. We shouldn’t be laughing. Actually, you should avoid laughing altogether until your ribs heal.”
“You’re right.”
“Joe, you don’t believe all these reports in the media, do you? About me and the Senator? It started with a photo in New York Magazine. Senator Arbeson was with this woman who looked like me. Somebody sent me a handwritten note asking if I was having an affair with the Senator. I would never … I wasn’t sure Alan was behind it because it was written in very elegant penmanship. And, I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you to be upset.”
“Somebody obviously got you confused with the woman in the magazine,” he said. “It’s just a note with a question that needs no answer.”
“So you believe me? I never—”
“Yes, I believe you.”
“Someone even went to the trouble to plant one of Senator Arbeson’s cufflinks in my night stand. And, apparently a collection of press clippings under my bed. Who knows what other evidence has been planted.”
“I just wish I could’ve been there when you needed me. I can’t believe you were kidnapped right under the nose of the feds.”
Evie forced herself slightly forward from the pillows, took Joe’s hand and held it tightly.
“Joe, do you remember the first time we met? You joked about self-held illusions. I think you’re an amazing man, but I don’t think you could have changed the situation.”
He smiled at her, warming the room. “So Eves, what are your plans?”
“This morning I had this dream. I dreamt I was packing up to move, and I was overwhelmed trying to figure out what to do with all my things. When I woke up, I had an epiphany. I realized that all the stuff I had accumulated was symbolic of the psychological baggage I’ve been carrying over the years. I think my subconscious was telling me to abandon it all, just let it go.”
“So, you feel like starting over?”
“I got this interesting proposal from Roma Sori, one of my clients. It’s a fragrance company. Adam Peyton, the president of the company, offered me a job.”
“Eves, Michael’s going to get you a settlement. He’s even talking about defamation suits you could file with some of the tabloids. You don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”
“Who knows what’s going to happen if that merger with Newly, Boyce, Tate and Wells goes through. It may take years of legal battles to ever see any money.” She paused and squeezed his hand. “I think I’m going to try something different. Actually, Adam’s going to let me create and market my own perfume line. I think I’m going to call it ‘Jurisprudence.’”
Joe smiled. “That artistic soul I saw that hadn’t yet found an avenue of expression. Well, maybe now you have.”
“Maybe I have.” She leaned over, wincing, and kissed him.
“Mmm,” he said. “Listen, Eves, you have to promise me that from now on you’ll be more careful. You can’t keep taking drugs and getting into strange cars with people you don’t know, okay?”
“Just because you beat up the bully in my life doesn’t mean you can start giving me advice … ”
“What if I were your husband? Would you listen to me then?”
“Don’t count on it.” Yes, Joe I want to marry you. The thought screamed so loudly in her head that she was sure he heard it.
“You’re going back home to California?” she asked. “To Ajani and Ayoka?”
“Yes. I’ve neglected a few things out there.”
She sat back against her pillows. “You know, Adam told me that I could set up my office at any of Roma Sori’s facilities … New York, Chicago, Memphis … or Los Angeles.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I said that I really want to see the sunset from a particular beach … and I …”
He smiled and leaned over the bed. He kissed her very slowly and softly on the mouth.
Attributions
“Positive Illusions” study reference in Chapter 1:
Gamon, David, and Allen D. Bragdon. Building Mental Muscle: Conditioning Exercises for the Six Intelligence Zones. Cape Cod, MA: Allen D. Bragdon Publishers, Inc., 1998.
“Reading the Morning Paper” in Chapter 20 and other impressions of safari experience:
Ross, Mark C. Dangerous Beauty: Life and Death in Africa: True Stories from a Safari Guide. New York: Hyperion, 2001.
References to Operation Ill Wind in Chapter 25:
Pasztor, Andy. When the Pentagon Was for Sale: Inside America’s Biggest Defense Scandal. New York: Scribner, 1995.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to offer my gratitude to a number of people. Some of them, never seeing a word of my writing, simply offered timely advice or general encouragement; some read portions of my writing; and some read the complete manuscript an
d offered suggestions. These people include Deborah Hogan, Susan Griswold, Esslie Hughes, Brian Melton, Carol and Norwood Brenneke, Sharon Sholden, Gail McGlamery, Dr. Carsten Kampe, Nancy Kampe, Angela Saks, Deborah Haines, Karin Wacaser and Susan Ridley. I am also very grateful for the ongoing assistance of Vita Vlad and Mariette Roy.
A special thank you to my parents for their encouragement and assistance in too many ways to enumerate. I owe a special debt of gratitude to my mother, who eagerly read every version I produced. Tirelessly reading and critiquing numerous versions of a manuscript with limitless enthusiasm is something only she would do.
I will always be grateful to Susan A. Schwartz, my editor, who taught me so much about the writing process, as well as the publishing industry.
My lawyer, Bob Stein, was a terrific sounding board in addition to providing solid advice on the legal aspects of the publishing process. Additionally, Jeffrey Johnson and Teresa Lee provided input on specific legal issues, for which I’m truly grateful.
While I followed much of the advice of my editor, lawyers, friends and family, I want to stress that any mistakes, opinions, stupidities and the like reflected in this work are mine and mine alone.
Lastly, I would like to thank my beloved paternal grandmother who introduced me to the joy of creating stories.
About the Author
Susan Schaab is an award-winning author who practiced technology and intellectual property law for more than eight years in New York, Texas and California. Prior to law school, she worked as a software designer and consultant. Her debut novel, Wearing the Spider, won several awards including first place in Genre Fiction from Writer’s Digest and a Best New Fiction National Indie Excellence Award. It was also shortlisted for the 2008 Debut Dagger by the British Crime Writer’s Association. Susan is a member of Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, International Association of Crime Writers and Sisters in Crime. For more information visit: www.SusanSchaab.com.
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