by Alan L. Moss
Michael saw the blood rush to Ian’s cheeks. He was an experienced public relations executive. He handled many embarrassing situations and usually spun his way out of them, but this question revealed more than he could endure. The information was too detailed and the allegations too serious.
Lucas was being forced to consider how much Bloom might know and what he could do with such knowledge. For example, he could publish his suspicions or leak them on the Internet. Once he documented the black market sales that Matautu and Partain organized, Health-Cell would be done.
“I’m not going to dignify that question with an answer,” Ian blustered.
“Which question is that,” Michael prodded, “the one concerning financing or the one having to do with fearing prosecution?”
“We’re done,” Ian said, getting up from the table. Then, he called Robert Stark on his cell phone.
“Bob, bring that photographer to Mr. Green’s car. Our time with them is over.”
Michael could hear Stark’s faint reply.
“As soon as she leaves the restroom, we’ll meet you in the lot.”
Michael followed Ian out of the building and through the portico.
“I think I can find our car by myself,” Michael said, walking toward the lot.
“To be truthful,” Ian said, “I’d prefer to see you off the property.”
The two men followed the walkway around to the parking lot and Michael spotted Joy’s rental. He walked over to the car while Ian waited on the path for Joy to appear.
Joy had the keys, so Michael stood awkwardly next to the car. He glanced at his watch. It was five after four. Ten minutes later Joy was still missing. Michael glared at Ian, who was talking heatedly on his cell phone.
Michael, worried about the young lady who saved his life, walked over to Ian and confronted him.
“If anything has happened to Joy, I promise you will pay dearly. I checked in with my editor before the interview. He knows we’re here. If we don’t call in three hours, he’ll get suspicious and start calling around.”
Ian held his ground.
“Look, Mr. Green or whatever your name is, bugger off. Your photographer has spent the last twenty-five minutes in the dunny. If she’s ill, I don’t think you can pin that on Health-Cell. Maybe you should take better care of your own people.”
Before Michael could fire back, Joy appeared from around the corner of the building with Stark trying to keep up.
“Hi, guys. Sorry for the wait. I think the jet lag caught up with my tummy.”
With Michael and Joy walking to their car, Ian had the last word.
“We won’t stand by idly if you spread any wild accusations.”
CHAPTER 26
LOVE BEFORE DINNER
July 10, 2004
Ashburton, New Zealand
Michael and Joy drove away from Health-Cell knowing it was only a matter of time. They had revealed too much, learned too much. Ponsonby and Seaton, the architects of the firm and the instigators of the bailout, cashed in and moved to South Africa, safe from prosecution. Those left behind pressed ahead to complete testing and market the cure. They had too much at stake to let Michael and Joy threaten Health-Cell’s future.
Heading back to town, Joy revealed that her extended stay in the restroom was not related to jet lag or an upset stomach. When she entered the lavatory, a middle-aged woman, a disgruntled employee, approached her. Apparently, Ponsonby promised to hire her son to work in one of the laboratories. Then, Ponsonby retired and Health-Cell reneged on his promise. Furious, the woman wanted to get even.
She claimed that just about the time the firm’s financial viability had been restored, she and four of her co-workers were required to work a series of sixteen hour shifts to prepare fifteen stem cell cure kits. This project took place well in advance of the formal testing that eventually got underway. The kits were sent to a Los Angeles physician, a Dr. Jacobs. Given the security around the activity, she believed it was illegal.
“They tried to keep us in the dark by breaking the project into independent steps that couldn’t be related back to the rest,” the woman explained. “What, because they tell us not to discuss our work they think that’s how it’s going to be?”
It didn’t take long for Joy to figure it out. When the new minimum wage rates went into effect, the tuna corporation paid their sixty million dollars to the American Samoan Government. She speculated that most of those funds must have been diverted to Health-Cell to restore the firm’s liquidity. Then, Health-Cell produced the fifteen stem cell cure kits and rushed them to Dr. Jacobs.
Driving on the highway to Ashburton and checking her rearview mirror every few minutes, Joy explained the rest.
“They must have had a number of wealthy patients lined up for the cure. Let’s say each paid between five and ten million dollars. That would allow the conspirators to reimburse the Samoan Treasury and pocket a nifty profit.”
Michael, feeling the chill of winter in New Zealand, zipped his jacket.
“Even if they don’t learn of your conversation in the ladies' room, if they wanted to take me out before, they’re going to redouble their efforts now, and now you’re in the line of fire. I told you to stay out of this.”
Joy looked over at Michael with a smile.
“You’re really sweet, but remember, if I stayed in Honolulu you would be gone and the crimes of Health-Cell would stay hidden forever. Now that we’ve figured it out, we need to find some corroborating evidence. Then, we’ll contact the authorities and get you off the hook for Karen’s murder.”
Michael, ever surprised by Joy’s enthusiasm in the face of danger, flashed a look of skepticism at this young lady detective.
“I like your optimism, but before we take steps to clear my name we better leave New Zealand. If I were a betting man, I’d venture Health-Cell security or whoever pulls the strings is lining up another assassin right now.”
“Right,” Joy answered. “There’s no way we can go back to our hotel or use our return airline tickets.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We need to get to American Samoa. That’s where the conspiracy started and that’s where it will end.
“Also, for my own satisfaction, I need to find out how George Partain was murdered. Mr. Partain never would have taken off without contacting his employees. He was a terrific guy. He taught me much of what I know and I’m not going to let his killers get away.”
“So where are we headed?”
“We’re going to Christchurch, where we’ll ditch the rental and board the TranzAlpine Railroad. That’ll take us across to Greymouth on the west coast. There, we’ll hire a boat to take us to Pago Pago. Let’s see if those Health-Cell bastards can keep up.”
***
Two hours later Michael and Joy reached Christ-church. The sun retreated and they each welcomed the anonymity of darkness.
“Let’s cut through town to Cathedral Square and ditch the rental,” Joy said.
“How do you know New Zealand so well?” Michael asked.
“My mother had relatives in Christchurch when I was a kid. They’re all dead now but I remember when we used to visit in the summer.”
After Joy parked the car they headed down Bealy Avenue toward Cashel Street. Joy popped into the Hotel Royal to grab a train schedule from the front desk and then rejoined Michael.
“The next train isn’t until tomorrow morning so we might as well get a good night’s sleep. I have several phony IDs and credit cards for work. I’ll check us in just to be safe. Why don’t you head to the pharmacy and pick up the essentials for our one night stay?”
“Meet you at the elevators in fifteen minutes,” Michael said.
After making his purchases, including a tote bag, Michael headed back to the bank of elevators. He saw Joy waiting but said nothing to her. They entered the same elevator and Joy pushed the button for the tenth floor.
“I hope you don’t mind but I told the desk clerk we�
�re on our honeymoon. I ordered dinner in our room and he volunteered a bottle of Champagne.”
Instantly, Michael regretted that he hadn’t discussed their sleeping arrangements with Joy.
“I guess that means you didn’t specify twin beds?”
Joy feigned regret.
“Sorry, we’ll have to make do with one king size.”
“That’s okay. I’ll just sleep on the couch,” Michael said.
The elevator reached the tenth floor and they walked down the hall to their room. Joy handed the key card to Michael. He slid it into the slot, removed it, and opened the door. He walked into the room, placed the tote bag and cosmetics on the bed. He turned around and saw Joy waiting in the hall.
“The least you could do is carry me across the threshold.”
Michael shook his head, not believing Joy’s game.
“No offense, but I have a bad back and don’t want to tempt fate over your phony honeymoon story.”
“Oh, okay,” Joy sighed, entering the room and closing the door. She walked over to Michael and put her arms around him.
“You know, we could pretend we’re on our honeymoon. I know I’m kind of young for you but I did save your life. According to Polynesian custom, I think that means you must do what I ask.”
Michael tried to ignore the softness of her body and the allure of her perfume.
“I think the pressure is getting to you. You’re young enough to be my daughter and I’m still mourning Karen. Let’s drop this honeymoon idea, okay?”
Joy tightened her grip.
“Look, I may be as young as your daughter but I’m not your daughter. If Karen was who I think she was she’d want you to get some relief from all this.”
Michael looked incredulous. He broke her grip, moved to the windows, and looked out at the thousands of trees surrounding Christchurch.
“I may be old fashioned but my generation believes sex isn’t just a way to relieve tension. Don’t you believe in love?”
Joy raised her eyebrows.
“You know, Michael, I may be young but I’m not that young. I know about the sixties and your free-loving hippies. I can just picture you with long hair, bell-bottoms, and a half-stoned chick on each arm.”
Michael shook his head slowly.
“I hate to ruin your vision but in the late sixties I was an entry-level bureaucrat working for the Labor Depart-ment in Washington. I don’t remember seeing any hippies on that job.
“Now, if it’s okay with you, I’m going to stretch out on the bed and get some rest until dinner arrives.”
***
At five after seven there was a knock on the door. Joy invited two hotel staffers in to set up. One of the young men popped the Champagne cork and poured the bubbly into elegant flutes. The other man opened a small folding table and two chairs. They moved dishes and utensils from a cart to the table and poured lobster bisque from a steaming tureen. Hot rolls were placed on bread and butter plates. The main course of stuffed halibut remained covered.
While the waiters completed their tasks, Joy insisted on playing the honeymooner. She pressed herself against Michael and placed a barrage of light kisses on his neck. Then, she kissed him passionately on the mouth, sending chills down his spine.
The two hotelmen exchanged envious looks; sure of what would happen once they left the room. Michael tipped them generously and sat down at the table. Joy stood at the window, playing the rejected lover.
Michael tried to get her to stop the dramatics.
“You ordered this meal. We might as well enjoy it.”
Joy didn’t move.
“Am I so unattractive that I can’t seduce an older man?”
Michael put down his spoon and joined Joy at the window. He put his arms around her and looked into dark eyes that shone with tears.
“Joy, I find you very attractive. You’re the most exciting woman I’ve ever known. You have the guts and drive of a first-rate detective, and yet, you are a warm and passionate lady, but I fear that your desires are driven by the danger we’re in rather than pure emotion.
“If you need us to be lovers, I would be honored to join you in such a distraction, but please know these are strange times for both of us and things are likely to change once our adventure is over.”
Joy put her arms around Michael’s neck and kissed him softly.
“Okay, you’ve covered your ass. Now, can we get on with it?”
Michael glanced at the dinner table.
“I suppose love before dinner would be the proper etiquette?”
CHAPTER 27
TRANZALPINE
July 11, 2004
TranzAlpine Railroad, New Zealand
Michael and Joy lounged in the comfort of TranzAlpine seats. Every once in a while one or the other looked through the large panoramic windows at the incredible scenery racing by. The train had left Christ-church thirty minutes earlier and the fields of Canterbury Plains and picturesque farms surrounded them.
Michael didn’t know what to make of their night of lovemaking. Joy’s trim figure and firm body impressed him. The feel of a woman in her twenties was new again. Making love to such a young woman brought him back to a different time. He could still perform and believed he pleased her, but he felt like an endangered species given a rare chance to go back in time and revive a satisfying part of life from another era.
Other than sighs of pleasure and grateful whispers they said little. They were two creatures caught in a trap, helping the other to withstand the fear of mortal danger. Neither wanted to explore how this relationship would impact their lives in the long run. They would see what the future might hold if they could survive long enough to have a future.
For the next two hours the train sped west, covering distance with ease. The half-full car was alive with the oohs and ahs of tourists tied to their windows anticipating the next masterpiece of New Zealand’s natural beauty.
Soon, the express train would make its only stop. About two-thirds of the way to Greymouth it would pull into the station at Arthur’s Pass. It was a spectacular location, surrounded by the majestic Southern Alps. Some of the passengers would leave the train there and board buses to explore a mountain range that rose from rain forests and farmland to reach snow-capped peaks.
Joy dozed off and Michael looked over at her. She was, he realized, quite incredible. She presented the charm and warmth of a traditional Polynesian woman. At the same time, she was a driven professional in a job that required skill and clear thinking, sometimes staring death in the eye.
In spite of his warning that their relationship was only a distraction that would not stand the test of time, he was being drawn to her. Joy’s youth, passion, and caring aroused the very feelings he tried to deny.
Joy opened her eyes catching Michael staring at her, a dreamy look on his face.
“I thought you were the one just going through the motions,” she said, instantly diagnosing Michael’s reverie.
Michael blushed. “All right, let’s not get too cocky. After all, I’m an old man. It doesn’t take much to shake up a senior citizen.”
Joy removed a comb from her purse and slowly stroked her long, black hair. Then, in a swift move, she pulled it back into a shoulder-length ponytail.
“You know, Michael, using your age as a cop-out is pretty poor strategy after last night. Remember, I know what this old guy can do.”
Before Michael could respond, the train slowed, pulling into the station at Arthur’s Pass.
Joy continued.
“We have a half hour to stretch our legs and enjoy the view from the platform. My camera’s batteries are done. Let’s buy a disposable camera and take some shots. Maybe we can get someone to snap a picture of us. After all, it is the first full day of our honeymoon.”
The two waited for the car to clear. Then, holding hands, they walked down the aisle and out onto the platform. A strong wind blew away the dark clouds of early morning and a bright blue sky and sunny day greeted t
hem.
The train station consisted of a gray, wood-framed building with a slanted roof. It sat along the pass, the highest route across the Southern Alps and home to a spectacular national park.
Michael walked into the building and purchased the camera as Joy took in the scenery. When Michael returned, Joy was talking to a tall, lanky man, dressed in dark slacks and a canvas jacket.
“Michael, this gentleman has volunteered to snap a few shots of us,” Joy said.
The man offered an outstretched hand.
“Hi, mate. I’m Russell James. Glad to be of service.”
Michael shook his hand, looking into squinty brown eyes. He had a cold stare but his smile reassured the couple.
Michael handed the camera to him and Joy and Michael assumed several poses. The man photographed them with the Southern Alps as a striking background. After a dozen shots, the cold air chilled Joy and she thanked their new friend, waving off any more.
“Thanks, Mr. James. I need to get in from the cold. We really appreciate it.”
James motioned the couple to stay.
“Let me take one more picture of you. How about a goodbye kiss?”
“Sure,” Michael responded. Then, the two lovers staged a dramatic kiss, with Joy raising her right foot behind her as they embraced.
“That’s more than okay,” James said, taking the shot and then handing the camera back to Michael.
“Now, let me take a picture of you so we can remember our new friend from Arthur’s Pass,” Michael said.
“Be my guest,” James responded. Michael snapped the picture with their buddy standing awkwardly, arms at his sides.
Joy and Michael made their way back to their seats. Michael pulled a blanket from the overhead compartment and spread it over Joy, tucking the ends under her body.
“Older men can be so considerate,” Joy said.
She put her hands around Michael’s neck and pulled him close. Then, she closed her eyes and Michael put his lips on hers, kissing her gently.