by Robin Cook
“Perhaps Susumu and Yoshiaki will suddenly appear,” Hideki said optimistically, “and have some reasonable explanation of their whereabouts over the past twelve hours.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice.”
“Although there’s been nothing in the media about Satoshi, there’s a chance that may change.”
“And why would that be?” Hisayuki questioned.
“When Barbera-san called me last night to let me know Susumu and Yoshiaki had failed to show up, he informed me about a problem.”
“I’m listening,” Hisayuki said.
At that moment Chong Yong, Japanese by birth but Korean by ancestry, and Riki Watanabe appeared at Hideki’s row and began retrieving Hisayuki’s hand luggage from the overhead bin. Most of the rest of the first-class passengers were already disembarking.
“I’m going to have to deplane in a moment,” Hisayuki said to Hideki. “We can meet at the Four Seasons hotel on Fifty-seventh Street in an hour or so. Be there!”
“Certainly. But let me finish so you’ll know what is happening. Barbera-san told me he has a contact at the city morgue who confirmed Satoshi’s death was considered to be natural but that it is being investigated by a woman doctor who is apparently suspicious for some reason that it is not natural. What’s scary is that she has a reputation for being correct and, in Barbera-san’s words, solving difficult cases.”
“That’s not good,” Hisayuki mumbled.
“I agreed, and so does Barbera-san. Last night he said that he’s gotten a warning to her to drop her investigation.”
“Has she done so?”
“I don’t know yet. Barbera-san said he was going to check this morning.”
One of the cabin attendants approached. “Mr. Ishii. We are here in New York.” Behind her came a crew of janitorial personnel with cleaning equipment.
Hisayuki stood but kept his phone against his ear. At the same time he nodded to Chong and Riki, who had his hand luggage, to follow him, and he headed for the door.
“Call Barbera-san and request a meeting this morning!” Hisayuki said. “Specifically, ask him if this woman doctor has heeded his warning, and if not, tell him that we would be interested in learning everything there is to know about her.”
“I’ll call him right away,” Hideki said. “Will you be willing to drive out to Queens to meet him?”
“Only if he insists,” Hisayuki said. “Maybe you could remind him that I’ve just flown in all the way from Tokyo. Perhaps he’ll have mercy. But if he complains, tell him I’d be happy to accept his hospitality.”
“I think he’ll be willing to come into the city,” Hideki suggested. “I think he likes it. Most all of our meetings are in Manhattan.”
19
MARCH 26, 2010
FRIDAY, 9:30 a.m.
Hello, Miss Bourse,” Ben said brightly.
“Good morning, sir!” Clair said, pulling her eyes away from a novel she was surreptitiously reading behind her monitor. No one had come in during the previous half-hour, and she essentially had nothing to do.
“Is Carl in yet?” Ben asked as he walked by the receptionist, hardly slowing his rapid gait.
“Yes, he is!” Clair called after the CEO.
Poking his head into Carl’s open office, Ben said, “Can I see you?” Without waiting for an answer, Ben continued down to his own office. He hung up his coat in his closet before sitting behind his desk. The late-March morning sunlight blazed into the room through the open door into Jacqueline’s office that faced east. The back of his black leather desk chair was hot from its power. Ben called out hello to Jacqueline, whose desk was out of view, and she returned his greeting.
By the time Ben moved the latest batch of journals to the side and cleaned the center of his desk, Carl entered and took his usual seat front and center. With sun streaming though the open door into Jacqueline’s office, he had to squint.
“Are you making any progress with a possible iPS RAPID deal?” Ben asked, forgoing any small talk. Ben had been thinking of little else to avoid obsessing about Satoshi presumably enjoying himself in Washington, D.C., where Ben was now convinced he’d most likely gone.
“As much as can be expected in so little time. I sent them a number of e-mail inquiries last evening, a fraction of which they have already responded to. I think I’ll hear back on most of them today. The remainder on Monday, for certain.”
“Has anything so far changed your initial impressions?”
“No, not really,” Carl responded. “I think they will respond favorably to an offer to purchase. What price range, I have no idea. My sense is that these guys are true researchers and not necessarily businessmen, and would like to cash out early in the game. Maybe they fear something else might come down the pike and best their patent.”
“Could happen,” Ben agreed. “But my intuition tells me the same thing. I think it’s time to pounce, especially with our market value sure to go up, thanks to our licensing deal with Satoshi. Are you working on that as well?”
“I don’t have time,” Carl joked. “Of course I am. I’ll be speaking with a number of analysts today to see where they think we are, valuewise.”
“All right,” Ben said, indicating that the short meeting was over. “Keep me informed. I want to move on this to take advantage of our angel investors drooling to get more equity.”
Carl got up and stretched. “It’s an enviable position to be in, I must say. As a CFO, I’ve never had the pleasure of this kind of situation with access to seemingly limitless capital.”
Carl got almost to the door to the hall when Ben called after him. “I have a ten-K training race tomorrow, so I’ll be leaving early. I’ll check in with you before I do.”
Carl gave Ben a thumbs-up sign before turning back around to leave.
“Carl,” Ben called out again. “I forgot to ask—have you seen Satoshi yet this morning?” Actually, Ben had not forgotten. Feeling superstitious yet again, he’d hoped that Carl would have brought it up. By having to ask, Ben was certain he was going to get a negative reply, and he did.
“Not yet. Did you ask Clair, in case he slipped by me?”
“I didn’t,” Ben admitted.
“He didn’t come in yet,” Jacqueline yelled out of sight from her office. “I asked Clair when I came in, and the answer was no, and he hasn’t come in while I’ve been here.”
“There you go,” Carl said. “He’s not here yet.” Carl touched his forehead in a kind of salute, and disappeared down the hall.
Ben shook his head with disappointment and a touch of paranoia. Why was Satoshi doing this to him? Ben then glanced at the will and the other trust documents making him Satoshi’s son’s guardian as well as the trustee if something were to happen to the parents. Under normal circumstances, they would have provided him a modicum of reassurance. But they didn’t. The problem was that they had not yet been signed by Yunie-chan, Satoshi’s wife.
With sudden determination, Ben reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. With the same sense of superstition that had kept him from asking Carl about Satoshi, he’d yet to try Satoshi’s number that day. Ignoring the feeling, he dialed Satoshi’s number. The moment he heard the beginning of the generic outgoing message, he voided the call. Instead, he dialed Michael Calabrese’s office number. As usual, he didn’t get the placement agent, and instead had to leave a message on the man’s voicemail. As irritating as it was under the immediate circumstance, at least he was confident he’d get a call back, in contrast to the messages he had been leaving Satoshi.
Impulsively, Ben picked up the trustee document and turned to the signature page. There was Satoshi’s signature, along with his inkan seal. The signature was nothing more than a wild scribble. Ben had learned that it was the reddish-orange inkan that was the important part, along with the two witnesses, who were both iPS USA employees. There was also Pauline Wilson’s signature as the notary. The only thing missing was Yunie-chan’s scribble and her inkan sea
l.
All of a sudden Ben felt a bit less anxious, even though the documents had not been signed by the wife. He thought there was a reasonably good chance Saboru Fukuda, with Vinnie Dominick’s encouragement, could have the needed signature faked, as well as an inkan seal. He smiled at his paranoia. Next he looked at the wife’s will. That could be faked as well, if needed, making Ben both trustee and guardian. With a comforting exhale, Ben realized if the worst-case scenario was to occur and something untoward was to happen to Satoshi with or without his wife, iPS USA would not find itself out in the cold vis-à-vis the license agreement. Shigeru would own them, and Ben would be the trustee.
Snatching up the legal papers, Ben passed from his office into Jacqueline’s. “I’d like you to put these papers in the safe,” he said. “Put them with Satoshi’s lab books.”
“Will do!” Jacqueline responded while covering the telephone mouthpiece with her left hand.
“What’s my schedule for today?” Ben asked. He’d been so preoccupied with working himself up over Satoshi and the new opportunity represented by iPS RAPID, he’d completely forgotten his planned schedule for the day. Of course, forgetting his agenda was hardly unusual for Ben.
“It’s blank,” Jacqueline said. “Do you remember telling me not to schedule today because of your race in the morning? You said you wanted to leave early. I took you at your word.”
“I remember now,” Ben said happily, like a teenager hearing that school had been canceled.
With a spring back in his step, Ben returned to his desk. He was looking forward to the race in the morning as the official beginning of his training for the Hawaiian Ironman event on the fifth of June. Picking up the top magazine from the newly constituted biomedical journal stack, Ben eased back and lifted his legs. He was just getting comfortable when the phone rang. It was Clair out at the reception desk with the message that Michael Calabrese was on the line.
With considerably less anxiousness than he’d felt when he’d put in the call, Ben answered.
“I know you called, but I have some possibly good news,” Michael said eagerly. “Remember I mentioned that there was another potential angel investor for iPS USA.”
“Of course,” Ben said.
“Well, he’s heard of the contract signing we had with Satoshi through Vinnie Dominick and he wants in. He already called me this morning and said he wants in to the same degree as Dominick and Fukuda. Since I didn’t want to piss those guys off, I called and asked if they minded, since it will dilute them, but they don’t mind. The reality is you guys are sitting on a lot more capital today than you were yesterday.”
“It’s coming at a good time, as we are actually considering making an offer for iPS RAPID in San Diego instead of just negotiating a licensing agreement. We think there’s a good chance they might jump at an offer.”
“Well, whatever you decide, the money will be there,” Michael said. “Now, I know you called me, so what’s up?”
“I was calling you about Satoshi,” Ben said. “I haven’t seen him since he signed the contract.”
“Is that unusual?”
“I suppose not. One time he disappeared on a trip to Niagara Falls without telling me, and Carl said that he mentioned to him he was thinking of taking his family to Washington, D.C.”
“Did you try to call him?”
“Of course. Many times.”
“Did you try to call him when he went to Niagara Falls?”
“I did, and he didn’t answer then, either.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry. He wants to get away once in a while and celebrate his liberation. He told me when he first arrived at the signing the day before yesterday that what he liked best about living in America is the freedom to do what he wanted rather than always doing what was expected of him.”
“But I had specifically asked him the day of the signing to either come to the office or call me the following day, yesterday, because he had reminded me to find laboratory space for him, which I have now done. He was also to pick up some documents for his wife to sign, but he never showed up or called. He hasn’t even shown up today, at least not so far.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound worrisome to me, if that’s what you are asking.”
“I suppose not,” Ben agreed. “But it makes me uncomfortable. What I was going to ask you was to get in touch with Vinnie Dominick and ask where Vinnie and his guys had placed Satoshi and his family. You said it’s probably one of their collection of safe houses.”
“That was my understanding.”
“Would you mind asking for me? I’d like the address and the phone number, if there is one. I’ll feel better if I know how to get in touch with him if need be, and he’s not answering his cell. I certainly would not tell anyone.”
“They don’t like to reveal any of their safe houses for obvious reasons, the main being because it’s then no longer a safe house. I know Satoshi was told under no uncertain terms not to reveal where he was temporarily living. I know Fukuda-san is arranging more permanent housing. Anyway, I’ll ask and explain your reasons. I mean, they are already entrusting you with a heck of a lot of their hard-earned money. I can’t see why they wouldn’t trust you with the address of one of their safe houses.”
“It will let me sleep better,” Ben confessed.
20
MARCH 26, 2010
FRIDAY, 9:40 a.m.
The floater had taken more time than Laurie had originally imagined, because the autopsy required tracing more than a dozen bullet tracks through the victim’s body, the majority through the chest and abdomen. Most had hit against bone and were diverted, but some had pierced the body through and through.
About midway through the case, Lou had decided he’d learned all he was going to learn and left. So it was Laurie and Vinnie who had slogged through, painstakingly following each shot and gathering bullets and bullet fragments as they progressed.
At first Laurie had tried to bring Vinnie out of his apparent funk by actively attempting to get him to participate in the dissection, but she eventually gave up. Instead, with the part of her brain she didn’t need to devote to the physical work, she tried to imagine how the previous day’s case could be related to the case she was doing. Could it be some sort of vengeance killing? There was no way to know. Besides, Laurie was the first to question whether there was a relationship or not, and she found herself progressively eager to find out. What was going to make her more confident was to study the photo she’d made and view the security tape again, holding a photo of the current case to compare. Even then she knew she probably was not going to be one hundred percent certain but maybe certain enough to question its potential meaning. Laurie thought seriously that one of the pursuers in the security tapes she’d watched at home was the man she was autopsying at that very moment. But she was being realistic. It was never that easy to identify people, especially looking at a photo or a film of a live person as compared to a corpse that had been floating around in the river.
The one thing Laurie was particularly thankful for was Jack’s sensitivity. She knew he knew that it had to be the security tapes where she’d seen the floater, but he didn’t push her on the issue. Instead, he’d respected her wish to do the legwork on her own and gain professional confidence by going so.
“Thank you for helping me on this case,” Laurie said to Vinnie, preparing to help him lift the body onto the gurney. “I’m sorry it was so long.”
“No problem,” Vinnie answered, but without emotion.
“Now I want to ask another favor.”
Vinnie looked expectantly at Laurie without speaking.
“If there’s a table available, I’d like you to bring out my unidentified case from yesterday. I want to repeat the external exam.”
Vinnie didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me?” Laurie questioned with a hint of pique. She was now certain he was not acting like himself. He was even avoiding eye contact.
“I heard you,” Vinnie said.
“When there’s a table available, I’ll bring it out.”
“On three,” Laurie said, holding the floater’s ankles. She then counted, and together they shifted the corpse off the table and onto the gurney. She then walked away without another comment.
Laurie stopped by Jack’s table on her way out. “It looks like you’ve got a child,” Laurie said. She hung back and avoided looking directly at the preteen girl’s face. Children, particularly infants, were always difficult for Laurie, despite her active attempt to be professional and to keep emotion from her work.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Jack said. “And a rather heartbreaking case as well, so to speak. Do you want to hear?”
“I suppose,” Laurie said, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
Jack picked up the child’s heart from a tray and opened the edges of a slice he’d made to view a porcine aortic valve replacement. “A suture became loose after the initially successful replacement and got tangled in the valve. One suture out of a hundred! It’s a tragedy for everybody: the surgeon, the parents, but of course, mostly for the child.”
“I hope that surgeon can learn from his or her mistake.”
“That’s the hope,” Jack said. “He’s certainly going to hear about it. Are you off to work on yesterday’s case?”
“I am,” Laurie said.
“Good luck!”
“Thanks for not pushing me earlier to explain myself.”
“You’re welcome. But I’m getting awfully curious and want to hear about what you’ve got by the end of today. I’m assuming your watching the security tapes last night was a lot more fruitful than I had imagined.”
“They were interesting,” Laurie teased. “On another subject, Vinnie is not acting at all like himself today.”
“Really? That sounds very unlike Vinnie. I did notice he called me Dr. Stapleton when I stopped at your table. It’s usually something a lot more derisive.”
“Maybe it’s me, as I did deliberately hijack him this morning. But I did give him the option to wait and work with you.”
