Brian gave him a forced smile. “Ready.”
Gadi headed down to the hotel lobby and stood in front of the reception desk to return his key-card, while his eyes quickly scanned the area. The thug was standing close to the place he’d seen him last time. A real professional with endless patience, thought Gadi, our plan had better be successful, otherwise… While walking toward the parking lot, he sent Brian a message to come out of the room. He started his car and left the door open with his left foot dangling out. Brian was on his way to his own car when the Chinese man emerged from the hotel entrance, threw a quick look at Brian and hurried to get into a gray Ford Focus. Out on the road, Gadi’s car passed Brian, who was purposely driving slowly. The next stage was the most dangerous, the only moment in which Brian would be alone and unprotected. It was a gamble, but a calculated one. Gadi stopped at the hospital entrance and ran inside wearing the pale-blue orderly’s uniform. Over his shoulder, he was pleased to see Brian parking his vehicle in front of a fire hydrant and hurrying into the building as well. The Focus driver, who arrived just a few seconds after him, deliberated for a moment before leaving his vehicle in a no-parking zone and hastening toward the entrance Gadi had gone in.
By the time Brian’s tail entered the hospital, Gadi and Brian were already on their way to the elevator. Gadi stood in the open elevator door keeping the door open, delaying Brian’s entry. When he was certain the pursuer had noticed Brian, they both stepped into the elevator, which began to descend. He knew as soon as it stopped, the Chinese man would read the floor number Brian had headed to and would rush after him.
The elevator doors opened and they went out into the corridor.
“It’s dark as death here.” Brian chuckled in a desperate attempt to ease his fears. His eyes scoured the area with apprehension. Only the light of a red bulb, hanging above the morgue door, hinted the way to his destination. The rest of the corridor was shrouded in utter darkness.
“Get going. Remember, I’m right behind you, even if you can’t see me.” Gadi took off the uniform and stuffed it into the nearest trash can. Then he turned in the opposite direction and whispered, “Good luck.” Brian looked back, but Gadi had already been absorbed by the darkness.
Brian walked toward the morgue door, repeating the secret entry code in his mind again and again. When he reached the heavy doors, he pressed his ear against them and waited. Not a living soul inside, he thought, enjoying his clever choice of words. A moment later, he began to punch in the entry code. The elevator door opened behind him, and the assassin silently emerged from within, a gun in his hand. The morgue’s electric doors began to move slowly, the sound of the hinges blocking the almost inaudible “poof” the silencer produced as the deadly bullet was fired.
Chapter 45
New York, October 30, 2013, 8:30 AM
When Ronnie entered the conference room, Henry, David and Jim were already waiting for him. He apologized for the slight delay and placed the three copies of the acquisition contract on the table, ready for signing. Satisfied grins appeared on everyone’s faces, and the atmosphere at once turned relaxed and congenial. Ronnie began, “As you know, yesterday we were able to iron out the final details of the TDO acquisition agreement and I have in my possession a signature sheet with the names of all the other investors in the company, authorizing the four of us to sign the contract on their behalf. I’ve scheduled an afternoon appointment with the investment bankers, and once we deliver them the signed documents, they will transfer the payment to our escrow account.”
Ronnie made a slight pause, drank from the water glass in front of him and ignored the expectant looks of all present.
“Before we sign, I’d like to say a few words. I wouldn’t be telling you anything new, if I told you we wouldn’t be sitting here if not for the two tragic events that we experienced during the final two operations — incidents that pulled the rug out from under our feet and blackened TDO’s reputation, turning it into a company that didn’t stand a chance to raise money from venture capital funds. Throughout the process, I’ve felt the sour taste of disappointment, which I know you’ve all felt as well. I know I’ve lost my temper more than once and insulted some of you. I’d like to ask for your forgiveness.” Ronnie smiled toward Henry and David, who returned conciliatory nods. “But what I’d like to stress the most is that we wouldn’t have reached this happy day without Jim’s active involvement.”
Henry gave Jim a pat on the back in appreciation, as the latter couldn’t conceal his pride.
“In a consultation with the fund’s attorneys, they pointed out that even though the contract we’ll soon be signing has a clause that releases the investors and the company from any future claims, this clause is not legally binding unless it is signed in good faith. Therefore, they’ve recommended we formally discuss the subject before signing and create an ordered protocol to properly protect ourselves. I suggest we have this discussion now, and I’ll distribute the protocol at a later time. It won’t take long, but it’s an important step—”
“Ronnie, we all agree the company didn’t commit any crimes. I suggest we postpone this discussion, sign now and prepare the protocol later,” Henry cut him off and looked around the table, as if seeking everyone else’s approval.
“Of course, I agree with you regarding the innocence of the company, but I ask you to give me five minutes of your time, if only so we can provide honest testimony, if this ever reaches a court of law. Is that too much to ask, Henry?”
“All right. Just keep it brief, please.”
“Thanks, Henry. I don’t know why Christian killed himself and probably never will. The subject of the patients who died remains shrouded in mystery as well. True, we’ve discovered one of them had had his surgery rescheduled at the last minute, but the clerk who scheduled the surgery, switching it with another patient’s, disappeared without a trace. Why were the dates switched? I can only assume that as one of the patients was a member of the Amish community, which opposes postmortem operations, there was a need for another patient whose family would object to an autopsy as well—”
“Ronnie,” Henry cut him off again, “in the type of discussion you’d like us to have here, it’s important to try and avoid guesses and theories and stick to the facts. Let’s finish up quickly, sign the contracts, and then you can tell whoever’s interested everything that’s preying on you.” The rest of the people in the conference room nodded their approval.
“You’re right, Henry,” Ronnie answered. “So let’s talk about what I do know. Someone broke my leg on purpose. The man was Chinese. I saw him at the hotel where Christian died as well. Yesterday, I came across the following item which appeared in some of the Philadelphia newspapers.” Ronnie took copies he’d printed off the internet and handed them to his colleagues in the room.
“The body of a Chinese male, about forty-five, has been found dead at the Thomas Jefferson University Hospital morgue in Philadelphia. The cause of death was determined to be a gunshot to the back of the neck. The hospital has no explanation as to how the body reached that location. Anyone who’s able to identify the deceased is urged to contact the police.” At the bottom of the message was a photo that had obviously been retouched to make it appropriate for publication.
“This is the Chinese man who broke my leg. What was he doing in the Philadelphia hospital? Perhaps one of you might know?” Ronnie gave Henry an inquisitive stare.
“Are you out of your mind? Your racist insinuation that because we’re both of Chinese descent I had anything to do with this and sent someone to break your leg is infuriating and inappropriate.” Henry turned red, snatched the folders and began to flip through them nervously. “Just tell me where to sign and let us be finished with this sad joke.”
“The other question that bothered me was how could someone have managed to sabotage the medicine and who would have the knowledge to do so?” Ronnie ignored Henry.
“Enough,” Henry shouted and pointed a warning finger at R
onnie. “I don’t understand your outrageous behavior, Ronnie.”
The door opened and Gadi entered the room. “Good morning,” he addressed the group; they just stared at him in confusion.
“Who are you and how’d you get in here?” Henry shouted. “Someone please call the police.”
“What makes you think the police are not already here?” asked Ronnie in a calm voice. Utter silence fell on the room. Henry and David sat stone-like in their places, expressionless.
“May I continue?” Ronnie’s eyes wandered over the attendees. “As mentioned, the question that kept eating at me was who would be able to exchange the medicine, and who would have the know-how and the opportunity to do so. I must admit, I was convinced, more than once, that Christian was the one behind the sabotage. I thought that once he’d realized the severity of his actions and that there was no way for him to correct his error, he decided to commit suicide. Nevertheless, another question has been gnawing at me: What could have been Christian’s motive to ruin the company he’d built with his own hands? Does anyone have any ideas?”
The room remained silent.
“Then, Jim opened my eyes,” Ronnie continued, giving Jim a reassuring smile. “Christian was not the only person who had access to the medicine or the knowledge to change it. Jim, would you tell everyone your theory?”
Jim shifted in his chair uncomfortably. “It’s just a theory. I don’t want to defame a man without proof. I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I’d rather you do talk about it. We’re all family here. You didn’t have a problem sharing your suspicions with me, why would you feel uncomfortable telling them to Henry and David…”
Jim turned his head toward Gadi.
Gadi smiled. “That’s all right, I’m one of the good guys.”
Jim shifted in his chair uncomfortably and began to speak, “The medicine’s quality control process requires each handling to be done in the presence of at least two people. I’ve recently discovered that Christian used to give Brian, the man appointed to supervise the Mount Sinai clinical trial, the keys to the safe, so he’d take the medicine out by himself. Brian had also been responsible for the medicine from the moment it left our laboratory until the medicine vials were opened in the operating rooms. This gave Brian countless opportunities to ‘take care’ of the medicine—”
“And why would he do something like that?” Henry interrupted.
“I suppose someone had paid him a lot of money,” Jim hurried to answer.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps a competitor…” Jim squirmed. “It’s just a theory.”
“So you’re claiming he damaged the medicine while it was still in the company laboratories?” Ronnie persisted.
“Maybe, or maybe just in the hospital. After all, the doctors had no way of knowing whether he’d already treated the medicine. They let the fox guard the henhouse.”
“And how was he able to do this simultaneously in New York and Philadelphia?” Ronnie asked, wide-eyed.
“Perhaps he had a partner. I don’t know. All I know is that without telling anyone, Brian has been in Philadelphia for the past two days, roaming around in the hospital. If I had to guess what he was doing there, I’d say he’s trying to hide evidence.” Jim turned toward Gadi. “And perhaps the police should really handle this.”
“Thank you, Jim.” Ronnie moved the conversation forward. “Does anyone have any more questions for Jim?”
“Where’s this Brian now?” David asked quietly.
Gadi went to the door and opened it. Brian entered the room and sat down.
“Everyone, this is Brian,” said Ronnie. “The distinguished gentleman who opened the door for him found him in the hospital and arranged for his arrival. But let’s continue. Brian, some of the people present in the room suspect that you’re the one who caused the deaths of the two patients. Would you like to respond to that?”
Brian looked around him, considering his words. “I’m very relieved that you’ve finally realized this is about murder—”
“How dare you speak that way?” Henry screamed. “There isn’t a single piece of evidence to support what you say. There were no autopsies; the two patients were buried. I suggest you don’t throw around accusations of murder, unless you also intend to confess to your crimes.”
Brian searched his bag, took out a three-page document and placed it by his side. “I broke the law. I admit it. And I know I’ll pay for it. But I had no choice.”
“Why did you murder them, and how can you be so indifferent while admitting to it?” asked David, his face pale and his hands trembling.
“I never said I murdered anyone.” Brian narrowed his eyes at him. “Contrary to what you were all thinking, only one of the victims has been buried. Samuel Yoder, the patient who died at Jefferson University Hospital, is still in the morgue. The local police are trying to convince the family to agree to a postmortem. I decided on my own to break into that morgue and take a tissue sample from the body. I don’t exactly know how to pronounce all the exact terminology, but this document is a report produced by a private laboratory confirming that the sample I gave them contains a toxic substance known to be slow acting. That would explain why the operations had been underway almost an hour before the patients died.”
“You’re claiming someone injected the patients with a toxic material during the operation?” Jim wasn’t able to hide the ridicule in his voice. “In two separate hospitals at the same time? Well, come on…”
“That isn’t what I’m claiming. I agree with you, Jim, that the only way to pull this off would have been to insert the poison in the medicine before it left the company grounds.”
“It’s impossible to add any substances to the medicine” — Jim scornfully waved off Brian’s explanation — “unless you did it after the medicine left the—”
“Why do you think it’s impossible?” Ronnie interrupted.
“Because before we package the medicine, we weigh it and recheck it. From that moment on, the medicine is in the safe. Before we send it to the hospital, we weigh it again. No one would be able to add even a drop into the vial without it being discovered. In addition, any attempt to tamper with the vial covers would’ve been discovered because the covers are breakable and wrapped with a sensitive material bearing Christian’s or my signature. I personally checked the vials before they left the company offices. I even took photos of them, as the protocol requires, and I’m willing to swear they were both intact.”
“But just a few minutes ago, you explained to us that it had to have been Brian who sabotaged the medicine because he had access to the safe.”
Fear and embarrassment mixed on Jim’s face.
“Brian, I understand you took a photo of the medicine vial before it was taken into the operating room. Would you please show us the photo?” Ronnie continued, without waiting for Jim’s reaction.
Brian took his cell phone from his pocket, brought up the photo of the vial on the screen and handed it
to Ronnie.
Ronnie passed the photo among all the people present in the conference room and finally handed it to Jim. “Jim, would you please explain to us the nature of the defenses preventing the forgery of the vial?” he asked in a low voice.
Jim turned the screen toward those present, and said with evident reluctance, “As you can see, the vial is covered by a delicate material bearing my signature. Any attempt to mishandle the cover would blow the casing like a popped balloon. This prevents anyone from injecting materials into the vial or secretly drawing some medicine from it,” Jim finished his explanation.
“Impressive,” said Ronnie. “I assume there are more safety measures on the vial. Would you show them to us again? Unlike Henry, I’ve never had the chance to see them.”
“There aren’t many. The main mechanism to prevent forgery is the sticker, which is also below the casing. The sticker provides the vial its identity. For example, here you can read the number descr
ibing the batch and the specific vial number. But why are you asking me all this?”
“Because you’re the CEO and CTO of the company and the only one in this room who truly understands the details. Would you please read the number and explain what it represents?”
Gadi got closer and looked at the vial from up close as well. Jim shot him a hostile look and continued with evident contempt, “The first six digits — 070613 — describe the production date, which is also the last date on which we produced the medicine. The next two digits represent the batch. In this case, the number is 01 because in this lot we produced only a single batch.”
Ronnie raised the bottle and looked at it with indifference. “And what does the serial number signify, and why is it so long?”
“Ah” — Jim waved off the question — “it’s just a random number provided for each bottle by a computerized system, called a numerator. This is common practice among pharmaceutical manufacturers. The number is long and meaningless. You know, no company would want its competitors to know the exact number of units it manufactures.”
“So how do you know how many vials were produced in each batch? I suppose it’s an important number, at least for organizational purposes, financial reports and so on?”
“The numerator itself does the counting. According to the production and the batch date, it adds up the total production numbers and sends the information to the company’s enterprise resource planning — ERP — and accounting systems. Everything is done automatically.”
“Thank you, Jim. I see that your signature is on the sticker as well. Why is that?”
“It is part of the company’s strict procedure. Once the medicine was checked and before it was packaged, I signed to confirm the quality assurance tests had been properly conducted.”
“So it seems there was no way to tamper with the medicine in the factory,” Ronnie summed up, and everyone emitted a sigh of relief and reached their hands toward the binders in order to sign the contract.
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