by Daniel Kalla
Poisoned?
Before she left, Jimmy agreed to run urgent toxicological screens on as many of the hundreds of other used syringes from Mateo’s clinic as the lab could perform. He pointed out that they were lucky to be able to extract enough of a sample from Mateo’s syringe, and it would be hit-and-miss with each of the others. Moreover, if several of the other syringes were also poisoned, they would only need to randomly sample to estimate how many of the total were tainted. “Unless all of them were,” he added ominously. He also informed her that the process would be quicker now that they knew what toxins to look for.
The news should have been reassuring to Lisa. Unless the entire supply was poisoned—which she knows from Fiona’s exhaustive screening not to be the case—the revelation means that the vaccine itself is not dangerous. Potentially, it could even be reinstated on the front lines to prevent the spread of the lethal meningococcus. But that glimmer of hope is totally overshadowed by the dark intent behind what she just learned.
First, the cover-up to hide the complication. And now an even more malicious conspiracy to poison the vaccine itself. What kind of person or people would do this?
The triple buzz of her phone draws her attention. She glances over to the screen, where it’s mounted on a holder in the air vent.
“Olivia has a rash,” the text from her sister reads. “Taking her to Bellevue Hospital.”
Lisa’s stomach plummets. “Call Amber!” she screams at her car’s voice recognition system. But the line rings straight to voice mail.
“Oh no. Please, no,” Lisa mutters repeatedly as she tries her sister three more times without reaching her.
Lisa swerves into the right lane, to the angry honk of a truck she cuts off. Her pulse pounds in her temples as she zigzags through freeway traffic, driving more aggressively than Tyra at her most impatient, as she races toward the hospital.
She peels into the ER’s parking lot and abandons her car out front in an area clearly marked as ambulance parking. She runs into the ER and up to the triage desk, where she steps in front of an elderly woman who’s sitting in a wheelchair with oxygen tubing running up to her nostrils.
“Where is Olivia Dyer-Tegan?” Lisa demands of the triage nurse.
“How rude!” the elderly woman gripes.
The seemingly unflappable triage nurse smiles politely. “Ma’am, you will have to wait your—”
“I’m Dr. Dyer, the chief public-health officer.” Lisa plasters her ID tag against the Plexiglas that separates her from the nurse. “And this is a public-health emergency.”
The nurse consults her computer screen. “Bed fourteen.” She points to the set of metal doors to her right. “I’ll buzz you in.”
Lisa flies through electronically opening doors. She scans the numbers posted above the stretchers, which are separated by curtains, until she sees “14,” dashes over to it, and yanks back the curtain, terrified of what it will reveal.
Amber sits in a chair at the bedside while Olivia is propped up in the bed, wearing a hospital gown.
“Tee!” Olivia says with a huge smile.
A sense of relief overwhelms Lisa. Her tears flow at the sight of her niece, whose color appears normal, and whose face is unmarred by blisters or rash.
Olivia frowns. “Why so sad, Tee?”
“Not sad at all.” Lisa’s voice quivers, and she wipes her eyes with the back of her forearm.
Amber reaches out and gives her elbow a quick squeeze. “Turns out it’s just a localized reaction. They’re seeing lots of them, apparently.”
“Let me see your arm, Liv,” Lisa says, stepping toward the bed.
Olivia slides the oversize gown off her shoulder to show the saucer-sized raised red welt at the site of the injection. Lisa immediately recognizes it for the harmless reaction that almost any vaccine can induce. “Thank God,” she murmurs.
“I didn’t want to overreact,” Amber says. “But after all your concerned calls…”
“I get it.” Lisa steadies her breathing. “But why didn’t you pick up your phone? You scared the hell out of me with that message.”
“Sorry, they asked me to turn it off.”
“I’m OK, Tee,” Olivia reassures her.
She strokes her niece’s cheek. “I know, hon.”
Lisa stays a few minutes longer to confer with Olivia’s attending physician, but she has to head back to her car once the page comes on the overhead speaker demanding, “Whoever is parked in the ambulance bay, please move your vehicle immediately!”
Lisa drives back to her office. On her way in, she stops at her assistant’s desk. “Did you find the number I asked you to track down?”
“I did,” Ingrid says. “It’s the FBI. They have a field office here in Seattle.”
“Can you put in a call in for me? I need to speak to the agent in charge. Tell him or her it’s urgent.”
Lisa heads straight into her office and is closing the door behind her when Tyra puts her hand out to stop it. “Where have you been?” the program director asks.
“Come in,” Lisa says, and shuts the door as soon as Tyra is inside.
“What in the name of Jesus H is going on, Lisa? Angela told me about the website. I feel so violated. As in personally.”
“Oh, Ty, it gets a lot worse than that.”
“How could that be possible?”
Tyra’s eyes go wider as Lisa explains the toxicology results on Mateo’s syringe. “Who?” Tyra whispers.
“No idea. But it had to be someone with access to the vaccine.”
“And you’re sure the vaccine was tampered with after the vial left the manufacturing plant?”
“Almost certain,” Lisa says. “We’ll round up a bunch of vials from Delaware for testing. But it makes no sense that they were tainted at the plant. You’ve seen how anal Fiona is. It would have been picked up on the quality-control testing.”
“Unless the quality-control folks were in on it…”
“There are too many barriers,” Lisa says. “Besides, the lab is going to test all of the syringes from that clinic. The vials were packed together in boxes of two hundred and fifty. If the whole batch was tainted, the toxins will turn up in every one of those syringes.”
“Not if someone at the factory was only randomly poisoning individual vials.”
“True.” Lisa tilts her head and studies her friend. “Ty, it sounds as if you want the toxins to have come from the plant.”
“I do,” she says gravely. “I really do.”
“Why?”
“Think it about, Lisa. If the vaccine wasn’t tampered with in the factory, then it means the vials were poisoned here in Seattle.”
“And?”
“How many people around here would have access to those vials?”
Lisa sees what she’s getting at. “Very few outside of our own staff.”
“Maybe a couple of the folks from Delaware,” Tyra says. “But even then, they didn’t handle the individual vials after they were opened. Our nurses were the only ones who did.”
Their eyes lock. “Tyra, we’ll need to go through a list of the nurses who worked the clinic where Mateo got his shot. And cross-reference them with all the nurses who worked that first clinic where Mia and Darius got sick, too.”
CHAPTER 52
Lisa has walked, jogged, cycled, and driven past the nondescript building on the corner of Third and University in the heart of downtown multiple times without ever realizing that it housed the Seattle field office for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
She heads to the seventh floor and opens a glass door that’s emblazoned with the distinctive FBI seal. Even though she has never been inside an FBI office, it’s exactly as she envisioned, down to the large framed side-by-side photographs of the president and the FBI director hanging on the near wall.
“Can I help you?” asks the young man behind the reception desk.
“I’m Dr. Dyer from Seattle Public Health. I have an appointment to see Special
Agent-in-Charge Douglas.”
“I’ll let the SAC know you’re here,” he says as he lifts the phone.
Moments later, two people emerge from the corridor, both wearing dark suits. The man is handsome, midfortyish, and African American. The woman walking beside him looks to be in her thirties, and she is as tall as he is, at least six feet, with a fair complexion and curly red hair.
They both offer Lisa somber smiles. “Good to meet you, Dr. Dyer,” the man says. “I am Chris Douglas. And this is our ASAC—assistant special agent-in-charge—Eileen Kennedy.” He motions back down the corridor. “Please. Join us in my office.”
Lisa follows them down to his office, which is no bigger than Lisa’s but boasts a better view, looking down the hill and out onto Elliott Bay. Lisa and Eileen sit down across the desk from Douglas. “I hope you don’t mind getting us both for this meeting, Dr. Dyer,” Douglas says.
“Lisa, please,” she says. “And at this point, I’ll take all the help I can get.”
“I saw your press conference on the vaccine, Lisa,” Eileen says. “I have to say, I thought you handled it with a lot of poise.”
“Thank you. In fact, it’s the vaccine that brings me here today.”
“So we gathered.” Douglas’s forehead creases as he opens a wire-bound notebook on his desk while Eileen lifts the screen on her laptop. “Do you mind elaborating?”
“In the past day, I’ve stumbled across what I think are two major crimes involving the vaccine. And I don’t know if or how they’re related.” Lisa goes on to tell them in detail about the website breach and the tampering with the vaccine itself.
Douglas jots notes while Eileen types on her computer. Each interrupts to ask for the occasional clarification, but for the most part they simply listen. Neither of them comments at all as Lisa describes how she confronted Nathan and Fiona over the reporting database.
“Wild,” Eileen says when Lisa finishes.
“Yes, thank you so much for bringing this to us.” Douglas’s frown lines deepen. “On the surface, these two crimes appear to serve opposite ends.”
“It’s true,” Eileen says. “It would be logical to assume the cover-up was perpetrated in response to—not in addition to—the poisoning of the vaccine.”
Lisa nods. “Especially if someone inside Delaware Pharmaceuticals was desperate to hide what they thought—as we did—was an unexpected side effect of the vaccine itself.”
Eileen narrows her gaze. “You have another theory, though?”
“It’s also possible someone might have wanted to induce enough severe immune reactions to ensure the vaccine appeared unequivocally responsible, before the vaccination campaign was halted.”
“I don’t quite follow,” Douglas says.
“With brand-new vaccines like Neissovax the surveillance is very tight. We could have stopped the campaign after the first serious reaction to investigate. In fact, we probably would have if we’d heard about Darius Washington’s death.”
“What would be the issue with that?”
“Well, reactions like Stevens-Johnson syndrome or toxic epidermal necrolysis are rare and sporadic. But they do happen with many different drugs. Even spontaneously, sometimes. If we’d stopped the campaign after one reaction, we couldn’t know for sure that the vaccine was to blame. In fact, it took three victims before we were certain.”
Eileen sucks air in between her lips. “You’re saying someone might’ve wanted to cover up the reactions until there were enough bodies to guarantee this vaccine would be labeled a serial killer?”
Lisa shrugs. “It’s just another hypothesis.”
“Could it be an act of domestic terrorism?” Douglas postulates.
“I’m an epidemiologist. I’m way out of my league here. But it seems to me the point of this sabotage wasn’t about the victims or the terror, but about fatally damaging the reputation of the vaccine itself.”
“And who would have the motive to do that?” Douglas asks.
“Anti-vaxxers?” Eileen offers. “Or maybe a pharmaceutical competitor? Or even someone inside Delaware itself. Out of spite or for personal gain.”
Lisa doesn’t comment, but she can’t help but think again of Nathan and Fiona. She feels connected to each of them in different ways, and she’s still bothered by their last accusatory encounter. She could imagine one of them being desperate enough to attempt to cover up the complications attributed to Neissovax. But to poison the vaccine? That’s almost beyond thinkable.
Douglas folds his hands on the table. “Basically, we’re looking at all the usual suspects in a case of corporate sabotage.”
“Absolutely,” Eileen says, sounding almost enthusiastic about the challenge.
The two agents ask Lisa a few more specific questions, including details about the toxicology results and accessing the website. Then Douglas rises from his seat. “Thank you again for bringing this to our attention,” he says. “Obviously, I’ll need to elevate this to Washington. There are potentially national issues involved. But we’ll immediately launch an investigation and put the full resources of our field office behind it.” He turns to Eileen. “ASAC Kennedy will be the lead investigator.”
Eileen turns to Lisa. “I’m going to need your help, Lisa, if that’s OK? For a road map to the world of vaccines. And to the other side, too. The anti-vaxxers.”
“Whatever you need.”
Eileen smiles warmly. “Until we understand the playing field better, I suggest you keep all of this strictly confidential.”
“Of course.”
Lisa heads back to her car, feeling simultaneously reassured and distressed by her meeting with the federal agents. Reporting the conspiracy has made the criminality of it sink in. Someone was actively trying to undermine their attempts to tame the most lethal outbreak Seattle had seen in years. And Lisa wasn’t sure who to trust.
* * *
On her way back to the office, Lisa passes a few blocks from Delaware’s warehouse and spontaneously decides to drop in on it. There are fewer staff inside than on her last visit, and a palpable pall hangs in the air.
Lisa finds Fiona in her office, motionless in her seat while staring at her screen. Once she notices Lisa, she speaks without making eye contact. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
“Understandable,” Lisa says. “Where’s Nathan?”
“In New York, while I’m grounded here. And my poor mom is alone and beside herself.”
“What’s the matter with your mother?”
“She’s in a care home back east. She gets anxious. It’s nothing.” Fiona finally looks up warily. “How did it go with the FBI?”
Lisa ignores the question. “I’m going to need samples of Neissovax, Fiona. At least one vial from every separate production batch.”
“Why?”
“We need to do some independent analyses.”
“You don’t trust our testing?”
“At this point, we need to do our own.”
“I am a clinical pharmacologist, Lisa. I’m good at what I do. Whether or not you believe me about the website is one thing. But to question my ability to oversee decent quality control?”
Lisa recognizes the hurt burning in the other woman’s eyes and has to resist the urge to explain to Fiona that it has nothing to do with her competence as a scientist. “This isn’t personal, Fiona. We’ve had three major reactions and one death related to the vaccine.”
Fiona stares at her for a long moment, and then nods. “I’ll send you the vials.”
“I’d just as soon take them with me now.”
“Of course you would.” Fiona scoffs. “We don’t have vials left from all of the batches.”
“As many as you can provide.”
Fiona gets up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Lisa leans against the desk while waiting for Fiona to return. The steady ticking of the art deco clock draws her attention. Eventually, she lifts it, surprised by its substantial weight. On the bot
tom, she notices a carved inscription that reads: To G, With all my love. W.
Lisa assumes the G must stands for some pet name, and she feels a pang of sympathy for Fiona. To have lost her otherwise healthy husband to complications of the flu—or possibly even the flu shot—strikes her as particularly cruel. She wonders if that’s what motivates Fiona to do the work she does.
Fiona returns cradling a box. At the sight of the clock in Lisa’s hand, she scowls slightly, and Lisa carefully replaces the timepiece where it was.
Fiona lowers the box onto the desk and opens the top flaps. She pulls out one of the presealed packages holding fifty vials of vaccine. “We still have vaccine from six separate batches.” She motions to the tag on top of the seal. “These numbers indicate the date of the original production runs in the plant at Littleton.”
“OK, thank you.”
Fiona carefully replaces the package in the box, closes the flaps, and then passes it to Lisa.
“Oh, Fiona, one other thing.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes, please don’t ship any of the supply back to Massachusetts yet.”
“Why not?”
“We might not be done with it.”
Fiona grimaces. “You’re still planning on using it?”
“All I can tell you is that we might not be done with it.”
CHAPTER 53
Nathan focuses on the simple blue, rectangular shape of the UN’s Secretariat Tower, which is framed in the center of the CEO office’s window. But today it doesn’t provide the usual calming effect.
“You were saying?” Peter asks in the same chilly tone he has been using since Nathan first sat down across from him.
“I have no idea how this could’ve happened, Peter. There was no signal noise whatsoever in all the trials. This complication came out of nowhere.”
“To fuck this company into near financial ruin, apparently,” Peter snarls as he slams his hand on the desk. “Did you see the share price today?”
The value of Delaware’s stock price has fallen by almost 30 percent since the announcement of the vaccine trial’s suspension. “Wait until the market gets word of the criminal cover-up they’re trying to pin on us,” Nathan says.