Green Kills

by Avi Domoshevizki

“Mr. Saar?” A resolute masculine voice was heard.

  “Yes. Who’s asking?”

  “This is Special Agent Archibald Bukowski from the FBI. I’d appreciate it if you could come to our office at 26 Federal Plaza. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “May I ask what this is about? I’m terribly busy at the moment. I’d love to meet with you tomorrow, anytime that would be convenient for you.”

  “The time that’s convenient for me is right now. If you don’t get here in the next hour, I’ll get a warrant for your arrest and you’ll have the NYPD and the FBI looking for you. Ask for Special Agent Bukowski when you get here.” The phone went silent.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Ronnie emerged from the exit of the number 5 subway at the corner of Chambers and Centre and began to march toward Broadway, where he turned right and headed to the FBI building.

  “I have an appointment with Special Agent Bukowski,” Ronnie addressed the redhead behind the reception desk.

  “Name?” She raised her eyes and gave him a bored look.

  “Ronnie Saar.”

  “Please sit down.” She pointed a chunky hand toward the black armchairs in the lobby.

  Ronnie sat down, closed his eyes and waited, sunk in thought. Fifteen minutes later, he heard the receptionist calling his name, so he approached the reception desk.

  “I need your ID, please.” She collected his driver’s license and gave him a visitor’s badge in return. “Please attach the badge to the right side of your jacket and don’t take it off while on the premises,” she recited. Then she added, “Take the elevator to the tenth floor. Agent Bukowski will be waiting for you.”

  “Mr. Saar?” A stout man in his fifties was waiting for him when he stepped out of the elevator. He wore a gray suit, his tie hanging loosely from his neck. Ronnie nodded and followed the agent through the maze of corridors. Bukowski opened a door in one of the corridors and waited for Ronnie to step inside. Then he motioned to the only chair on the near side of the desk, which was not stacked with paperwork.

  “Thanks for coming so quickly,” he began, speaking in a completely different tone than the one he’d used over the phone. “I invited you to have a conversation, and at this point, it’s just a conversation. I am interested to learn everything you know about the case at Mount Sinai in which a patient involved in a medical experiment you approved died.”

  Ronnie managed to control the wave of panic that rose in him. “I’ll be happy to answer all your questions.”

  “Why did you approve a procedure that could endanger lives?” the detective fired at him, giving him a hostile look.

  “Before the procedure you are referring to, eleven identical clinical trials had been conducted; they were all successful. The only difference between the last procedure and the ones that preceded it is that no company representatives participated in the surgery. Because the previous trials didn’t call for the company representative’s involvement, there wasn’t any apparent reason not to approve the next set of clinical trials.” Ronnie went silent.

  “Apparently, there was a very good reason, seeing that the patients died.”

  “When the decision was made, we had no information that could even hint at a possible danger.” Ronnie managed to maintain his calm.

  “I’ve checked into the financial situation of your company. You ran out of money, and it seems like you couldn’t afford to give up the operation. Was that the reason you approved it? Money?”

  Bukowski leaned on his elbows. His jacket opened a bit, exposing a large handgun and armpit stains on a once white shirt.

  “The company is indeed experiencing some cash flow issues. But that has nothing to do with me authorizing the trials. There’s no way in hell I’d risk a man’s life for money. I approved the experiment because all the information I had at the time supported this decision —”

  “And then a father of five died,” Bukowski cut him off.

  “Which is truly tragic. I visited the family only yesterday, and my heart bled when I spoke with the widow and her children. But this still doesn’t make my decision an erroneous one.”

  The agent kept quiet, continuing to closely examine Ronnie’s face.

  Ronnie was the first to break the silence, “Agent Bukowski, I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but another patient died in an operation conducted simultaneously in a Philadelphia hospital and using the same medicine. Unfortunately, in both cases, the families refused an autopsy, which could’ve shed some light on what happened and, to the best of my knowledge, clear our company of any suspicion. As I mentioned before, in both cases, our representatives weren’t present in the operating room, so I don’t have any information about what actually happened during surgery. We’ve invested a lot of effort in trying to understand what went wrong with the procedure from the doctors, but they were all instructed by the hospitals’ legal advisors to keep quiet. As I said at the beginning of the conversation, I’m eager to help in any way I can, but I’m in the dark just as much as you are, and have no idea what could have gone wrong. Even though I can’t ignore the horrible coincidence — two operations in which medicine developed by TDO was used, performed at the same time in locations about a hundred miles from one another, ended up with patients dying — I still can’t see how the medicine could’ve been responsible for the deaths of the patients.”

  “I’m aware of the second death, and I have to admit I was positive you wouldn’t be the one to bring up the subject.” Bukowski’s mouth stretched into a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’re lucky the autopsies weren’t allowed, otherwise we would be having this conversation in a jail cell.” The agent stood and began to pace in the room, his hands clasped behind his back and his thumbs tightened.

  “Forgive me for asking, but why is the FBI even investigating this matter? Were there any criminal accusations?”

  “The FDA asked us to look into this case before they prosecute your company,” Bukowski fired back.

  “Even though the obvious assumption is that the company’s responsible, there are too many suspicious things going on that can’t be ignored,” Ronnie erupted.

  Bukowski stopped pacing, approached Ronnie, and bellowed, “If you have any information, now’s the time to share it with me, because honestly, my patience is wearing thin.”

  Ronnie leaned back and said, “What I’ll describe to you now is the result of some sniffing around my people have been doing at the hospital and my own conclusions about the findings. As you must know, I have neither the manpower nor the authority to investigate this case thoroughly, but—”

  “Enough bullshit.” A vein began to pulse in the agent’s forehead. “I’m tired of all the wise guys sitting in front of me and trying to prove just how brilliant they are. Somehow, at the end of the day, they all end up in prison. There, they discover their brilliance to be absolutely useless.”

  “You may not believe me, but I want to find out the truth just as much as you do. I didn’t come here with a lawyer, and I’m doing whatever I can to help. The threats you’ve been bombarding me with from the moment I entered the room are completely unnecessary.”

  “Talk,” grumbled the detective and dropped into his chair.

  “As mentioned, in the investigation I’ve conducted, two points arose which made me think we’re not faced with a mere coincidence, but with a malicious act —”

  “So why didn’t you go to the police?” Bukowski interrupted him and straightened in his chair.

  “Because I have no proof for anything I’m about to tell you now. Some of the pieces of the puzzle came together in my mind only while I was on my way here,” Ronnie explained calmly. “In both cases, the families objected to a postmortem for religious reasons. Statistically speaking, that doesn’t make sense. In my digging, I learned that the Philadelphia patient scheduled his operation two months ago, but the one in New York was scheduled shortly before the operation. In fact, there was another patient scheduled for that time, whose oper
ation was cancelled and the appointment given to the deceased. The reason given to the patient originally scheduled for surgery proved to false.” Ronnie went silent and looked at the detective.

  “And the other thing?”

  “The clerk who’d switched the dates of the operations suddenly decided to take a trip to Central America a day before the surgery.”

  “And what’s so special about that? People take vacations, unless they work for the FBI, that is.”

  “It wasn’t a vacation. Her work friends say there wasn’t any indication that she’d been planning such a trip, and that she’s not the type to just leave everything and go on a spur-of-the-moment adventure. She took care of her elderly grandmother, and her job was too important for her to just wake up one morning and tell her supervisors she was quitting. She could’ve at least tried to get an unpaid leave, couldn’t she?”

  “Who can figure out young people nowadays… what’s her name?”

  “Roselyn D’Angelo.”

  “All right, I’ll check it out. But I have to tell you, I don’t buy your story. You signed, people died, you’re guilty. That’s the way I see it. In my experience, the world is a simple place. Most people spend their entire lives thinking it’s beyond their grasp. The rest of them spend their lives trying to make it complicated, but, after so many years in this business, I know the world is simple. And when we find out what happened in these two cases, we’ll discover, one more time, that this was not about some crazy statistics or an unfortunate coincidence. Someone was responsible for this. If I have to guess, it is probably someone from your company.” He got up from his seat. “Come, I’ll walk you outside. Try not to disappear on me in the next few weeks. By the way, don’t try to leave the United States with your Israeli passport, you’d be arrested as soon as you reached passport control.”

  They walked together toward the elevators, and when they reached the entryway, the agent pressed the call button. They both stood facing the elevator and keeping quiet. When the elevator arrived and the doors opened, Ronnie stepped inside but noticed Bukowski was preventing the doors from closing.

  “What?”

  “We haven’t spoken about Christian Lumner yet, the company CEO who committed suicide. Do you consider that to be just another unlucky coincidence?” The agent released the doors and disappeared.

  The subway ride to Presbyterian Hospital lasted an eternity. Ronnie ran from the station to the hospital. Liah gave him a faint smile when he finally reached her room.

  “How are you?” she whispered.

  “How I am is not very important right now. How are you feeling?”

  “Weak, but the pain has subsided and the doctors told me if I’m able to inject myself with cortisone shots, as far as they’re concerned, I can be discharged as early as tomorrow morning.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Isn’t it better for you to be here, so you’ll be taken care of?”

  “No, I’m not sure at all. Where’ve you been all this time? Is it so insanely busy at work?”

  Ronnie debated whether he should tell her about the recent developments. He was afraid more stress would aggravate her medical condition.

  Liah, who’d noticed his hesitation, gathered her strength, sat up in bed, and with a surprisingly steady voice, demanded, “Tell me everything, right now.”

  With a sigh of acceptance, Ronnie described to her what had happened from the moment he’d been notified about the death of the two patients. When he was finished, she smiled at him feebly, leaned back tiredly, and said, “The moment I leave you alone, you get into trouble. We’ll talk about it later.” Liah lay back in bed and was asleep in seconds, exhausted by the effort of following his story. Ronnie kissed her forehead and went out of the room quietly.

  Half an hour later, he reached his apartment and was surprised to discover the front door ajar. He pushed it open slowly, preparing himself for the worst, and stepped carefully inside, his eyes scanning his surroundings. The house seemed quiet and it appeared nothing was missing. He locked the door behind him, and when he headed to the kitchen to grab a beer from the refrigerator he saw a piece of paper under Liah's favorite magnet: "A house without a dog is not a home." It was a printed note that said, “Stay away from the hospitals, and we’ll stay away from you and your lady friend.”

  Chapter 27

  New York, October 24, 2013, 7:20 AM

  Ronnie wasn’t surprised to find Evelyn at her station, totally consumed in her work as if the workday had begun hours ago.

  “He’s in his office,” she said without being asked.

  David looked worried.

  “There are two important points I’d like to bring you up to date on,” Ronnie began.

  “Please . . .” David sent him a forced smile, his hands moving restlessly.

  “I’ve spoken with Robert and all the investors.” Ronnie was careful to maintain a neutral and straightforward tone. “I’ll try to close the deal this coming Friday.”

  “Can’t you do it before that?”

  “Friday was the earliest day Robert had available for the meeting.”

  “Excellent. What’s the other thing?”

  “You don’t care about the terms of the purchase?”

  “I’m already aware of them. Robert updated me right after your conversation. As I told you, we’ve been close friends for many years.”

  Perhaps too close, Ronnie thought.

  “Well? What’s the other thing?”

  “Yesterday, I was summoned to the FBI office. They’re investigating the deaths of the two patients. I believe the next time they call me down I’ll need a criminal lawyer. Do you know any good ones?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course.” David wrung his hands. “I never thought it would come to this… I’ll check with the fund’s attorneys and send you their recommendation later on today. Will there be anything else?”

  “No, thank you.” Ronnie rose and went out of the room.

  The corridors were silent as he returned to his office. It appeared only Ronnie, Evelyn and David were in this early. Ronnie closed the door behind him, sat down, tipped his chair back, rested his feet on the desk and analyzed all the facts that had turned his life into a miserable mess in just a single week: I’ve been questioned by the FBI and the police, who won’t let me off the hook even after the company’s been sold. I’ve been unable to make even the slightest progress in understanding how the operation date switch was related to Christian’s death, or understanding the connection between the operation’s failure and what’s been going on with the company or with me. Someone has broken into my house and left a clear threat, and all this time Henry and David have been working behind my back… Ronnie allowed his fingers to dance across the touch screen of his phone.

  “Yes, Ronnie.” Apparently Jim recognized his number; he was glad to hear Jim’s voice.

  “Is there anything new I need to know about?” Ronnie took a shot in the dark.

  “Sorry, but no. We’ve examined everything we could think of, and the conclusion is that all company procedures have been closely followed. If there’s any relation between the deaths and the medicine, it can’t possibly be the result of a malfunction on our end. The only thing I can think of is that the medicine was tampered with on the way from the factory to the hospital or while it was in the hospital.”

  Jim sounded certain of his conclusion, but that didn’t cheer Ronnie up. “Please send me the list of procedures and the results of the investigation so I can go over them myself. Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes can discover something missed by someone too close to the subject.”

  “Gladly. I’ll send you a link and a password so you’ll be able to access the company’s database. There, you’ll find all the procedures, production reports and all the other information related to the medicine monitoring process.”

  “The procedures will be enough. It would be very helpful if you could place them in a single folder and email them to me.” Ronnie decided not to let Ji
m know he’d gotten the password from Christian. “But that’s not what I’m calling you for.” He got back to the subject he’d originally called Jim to discuss. “We need to appoint a new CEO. I don’t want to rush the appointment. It’s no secret that Christian valued your work highly, and in the past few days I’ve come to realize why. Furthermore, I don’t believe there’s anyone who knows the organization better than you do. So, I’m hoping you will agree to temporarily serve as CEO, until I’m able to decide, along with the board of directors, who to recommend as permanent CEO.”

  “You don’t think I can be the next CEO?” Jim sounded openly disappointed.

  “Perhaps I didn’t explain myself clearly enough. I don’t know anyone who could do a better job than you would. But at the same time, I’m not willing to force a decision on the rest of the investors or future buyers, assuming there will be any. I need time, and I ask you to give me that time. You can count on my vote.”

  “Yes, of course.” The usual appeasing tone returned to Jim’s voice. “I’ll do anything for this company to keep it operating at full steam until a CEO who’s acceptable to everyone can be found.”

  “I’ll issue an appropriate letter of appointment.” Ronnie sighed with relief. “I won’t be in New York tomorrow. Will you be able to come and meet with me on Monday afternoon, so we can decide on the next set of company goals?”

  “No problem. I’ll get there in the afternoon and buy a return ticket for eleven PM from LaGuardia. I believe that will give us enough time to discuss all the topics.”

  “Excellent. It’ll be nice to finish the day with a good dinner. I’ll make restaurant reservations. My treat, of course. I’ll see you on Monday, then.” For the first time since he’d woken up that morning, Ronnie felt things were starting to head in the right direction.

  “So… eh… all right. See you.”

  “Did you want to say anything else, Jim?”

  “There’s something that’s been bothering me for a few days, but I didn’t want to involve you in it. Perhaps it’s best if we discuss it face-to-face.” Jim’s voice was filled with hesitation.