by J. Manuel
Sarah replayed the messages, and decided to research Dr. Mayfield. Her resume was instantly impressive and ruled her out of being a delusional lunatic as many individual litigants who fancied themselves great inventors often were. She had seen her share of quack, garage tinkerers who swore that they had invented the smartphone in their backyard long before the tech companies stole their design. Dr. Mayfield was no quack. Sarah was curious and reached for her office phone then paused. Something made her uneasy and she retracted her hand from the phone. Sarah closed her office door and called on her cell instead. Calling clients, or conducting any firm business, on a personal phone was generally frowned upon at Bodner James not because of any ethical or nefarious big brother issue, but because the firm feared losing track of billable time. Any time spent communicating, researching or even thinking about a client, or their issues, was to be charged.
Sarah dialed Mayfield’s number. The phone had yet to finish its first ring when it was answered. Mayfield’s familiar and nervous voice answered.
“Hello? Attorney Harrington, I was expecting your call.”
“Please, call me Sarah. You left a series of interesting messages. I was hoping that you wanted to discuss them.” Sarah tried to sound soothing, protective, and confident, a trick she had learned when dealing with anxious clients.
“No. Not now. I’d rather we meet.”
“Okay where?” Sarah wasn’t sure if she would actually meet with her in person without knowing more about her, her mental state, and the legal issue that was worrying her—a standard modus operandi of hers, especially when dealing with someone who might be emotionally or mentally compromised.
“I can be in the city tomorrow morning.”
“Great why don’t you stop by my office? I can set aside half an hour to discuss your issue. How’s 11:00 a.m. sound?”
“No. No. I’d rather not meet in your office. I want to be discreet about this. Can we meet at Union Station at the second floor café? I’m going to need some time to fill you in.” Sarah was now picking up on fear not just nerves, and this started to worry her. Fear was contagious. It led to paranoia, and paranoia led to compromised clients and to compromised counsel. The lawyer had to be careful to remain emotionally detached from her client. Sarah had made a good career out of keeping that in mind however she had probably made her greatest strides by listening to her gut, and knowing when to jump with full conviction into her client’s corner. She was getting that feeling now with Mayfield.
“Okay. I will clear my schedule tomorrow morning and will meet you at 8 a.m. at the café.”
“Thanks. Oh and just call me, Karen.”
The line dropped and Sarah wondered what could possibly make Karen so nervous. Whatever it was, she was starting to feel it too. Sarah looked at the grandfather clock just as it sullenly rang in the new hour, 6 p.m. She sighed heavily, another late night awaited her. She would have to postpone her day off tomorrow. At least she would try to enjoy the rest of the day once she finished her meeting with Karen. Maybe she would take the boys to the zoo. The thought did little to stay the unease that was building inside of her.
- - - - - - -
Sarah walked up the marbled staircase of Union Station’s main concourse at 10:30 a.m. just as the sun began to bathe its high-arched interior in warm, morning light. The walls carried the echoes of a thousand conversations. Hurried and measured footsteps clapped on the intricately laid marble tile work, masking the din of the tracked locomotives below. Sarah made her way through the throng of travelers and sightseers to the café counter which overlooked the concourse. It was a great vantage point to spot anyone approaching. She ordered two cappuccinos and waited for Karen.
Her wait was short-lived as she noticed a bright-red head of hair emerge from the restroom of the café. She waved to Karen who scampered to a table, sat down, grabbed a baseball cap from her bag, and pulled it onto her head and low to her ears. Sarah approached with reserve, and eased into the chair across from her.
“Goddamn it! I forgot to put this fucking thing on!” Karen’s nerves had clearly not alleviated since the previous day, and her darting eyes were making Sarah more uneasy than she already was. Sarah could tell that she was clearly not a pro at handling herself under duress. Her awkward getup and melodramatic attempts at searching her surroundings reflected an academic understanding of cloak and dagger TV shows.
“Karen, listen to me. You need to relax and look at me for a second.” Karen obliged momentarily. “You need to be normal. Don’t act, just be your normal self, right now. We are just two girls here in a café, drinking some coffee, chatting, and catching up on old-times, that’s all. What you can’t do is act uptight like you are right now. That attracts attention. People are subconsciously programed to notice odd behavior. It has something to do with an old evolutionary holdover from our mammalian ancestors who needed to pick up on queues from the other members of the herd to know if there was a predator in the area. Normal behavior doesn’t trigger that. We could stay chatting here for the entire day, and if you asked anyone if they saw us, nobody would remember ever seeing us because, in fact, their minds would not have registered our presence. Fascinating stuff huh?” Sarah smiled, picked up her cappuccino and sipped it slowly savoring every drop.
Karen followed suit; Sarah knew she would. It was a helpful bit of knowledge that she had gleaned from her avid interest in human psychology and behavior. A good way of controlling communication, a meeting, or negotiations was to disarm people with food or drink. People always looked for social queues, like the awkward way people mill about a buffet table during an office party and no one makes a move toward the food until an alpha personality breaks the social barrier by helping him or herself to a plate. Karen was looking for that kind reassurance before she dove into her story.
Sarah led her through a bit of small talk asking her about her trip into the District. It was uneventful. Sarah assured her that this was good. Sarah asked her about herself, her interests, husband, boyfriend, family life, and pets. All of the questions were designed to settle Karen’s restless constitution. Thirty minutes passed before Sarah came to the elephantine question.
“So why do you need my help, Karen?” Her tone remained as it had before, friendly and interested.
Karen recoiled slightly as she recalled the nightmare that had propelled her to seek Sarah’s help, but she nonetheless began recounting the story about her development of the chrysalis, her relationship with Manny, and the troubling events of the past few weeks.
CHAPTER 29
Irina had kept tabs on Mayfield’s digital activity for the past few months, scouring through browser histories, social media posts, and most importantly her phone’s GPS, which she’d triggered remotely through a simple embedded code that would covertly ping her location. Mayfield had traveled from Boston to San Francisco, and had then returned to Boston before heading to Manhattan. Her browser history revealed a few searches on a private, biotech company called, BioSyn, and a few more searches on the company’s CEO, Paul Eckert. She had arrived at the BioSyn headquarters in Manhattan early the next morning. Irina listened in as Mayfield was questioned by the corporate counsel. She was being strong-armed. The young doctor did not relent and insisted on meeting Eckert.
When Mayfield’s request was finally granted, her phone stopped transmitting. Irina checked the software, it all appeared to be functioning correctly; the phone had just stopped transmitting. GPS, audio, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, microwave, all signals disappeared. Irina accessed the building’s intranet through its open Wi-Fi network, and quickly mapped all of the computers in the building. All of the wireless nodes in the building responded, but the ones installed in BioSyn’s offices.
She drummed on her keyboard in search of another access point. Her fingers aggressively clicked the keys, systematically sifting through all of the digital signals streaming in and out of the building, searching for a subversive employee, one who was streaming music or video while they were supposed
to be at work. She instantly found a few phones that were sucking large amounts of data. Luckily some of these data streams pierced right through the expensive security countermeasures installed by the company. She accessed the floor thanks to a country-music aficionado and Toby Keith’s Red, White and Blue. She wormed her way through the streaming audio file and into the phone’s memory. Next she searched to see if the phone was connected through its USB cord to any networked computer, it was. She loved crappy phone batteries. Et voila, Irina had worked around BioSyn’s multi-million dollar, high-tech, impregnable firewalls, and anti-virus software within seconds. A few minutes after that, she had complete access to every workstation on the floor and every networked device.
Irina activated all of the microphones on the computers and phones on the floor, and ran a voice analysis program on every conversation that was picked up. There, in a large room, Mayfield’s voice and a man, Eckert, introducing himself. She homed in on the transmission from the closest computer. She searched her database for Eckert, but his record was clean. He appeared to be just as he was, a highly-successful CEO, young, good looking, charismatic, and power-hungry man with all of the hallmarks of a psychopath. He’d never had anything more than a couple of speeding tickets, and even those were in his teens and early twenties. The first: when he was nineteen years old, driving a 1988 Toyota Corolla; the second: when he was twenty-five and driving a spanking-new BMW M3. He’d held steady jobs from twenty-one until thirty-five jumping from one investment banking job to another until he was hired by BioSyn as a junior executive in charge of special projects. He had bounded up the ranks over the last ten years to become CEO. No wife, no kids, no social life. The man had no credit cards or bank accounts in his name. All of his spending was done on company accounts like a good chief executive. Why pay when you can have the company expense it?
Curioser and curioser, she thought, the further she dug into Eckert. He had no personal life to speak of. There wasn’t even a trace of the typical escort service calls that men like him usually made—now that was curios indeed. The conversation between Mayfield and Eckert now concerned a project that his company was interested in, something that Mayfield had developed. Suddenly the transmission stopped. Irina checked her systems and they were all fine. It was Eckert’s office that had gone silent.
CHAPTER 30
Sarah was now on the edge of her seat, leaning heavily on her elbows. “So you were never contacted by BioSyn?”
“No. Well not exactly. Manny, Dr. Monte-Alban, called me a few times, texted, and emailed asking if I had arrived okay. How was my flight? Personal stuff of that nature, but he never mentioned anything about my meeting Eckert, or Dr. LaPierre. I let a couple of weeks pass before I pushed him on it, but he never had an answer. I was finally contacted by BioSyn, or I should say, Eckert, directly about a month later. That was totally strange!”
“I take it that it’s pretty unusual for the CEO of a major biotech company to contact a lowly scientist?” Sarah responded.
“Well yes, at least not without some major institutional intermediary playing a part like a university board member introducing you to industry representatives.”
“So did you meet Eckert?”
“Yes actually, it was a pretty strange and intense meeting, and that’s the reason I sought your help.” Karen paused and glanced around nervously, cleared her throat reflexively, as if the memory had somehow begun to suffocate her. Her cappuccino rippled with the tremors of an unseen terror.
“Relax, Karen. Remember it’s just you and me here, two girls sipping cappuccinos and having a chat.”
Karen smiled meekly and continued, “Well I received a call from Manny saying that Eckert and Dr. LaPierre wanted to meet me to thank me for my work. Manny added that Eckert would probably be making me a lucrative offer to join the company. I accepted the meeting even though I never intended to leave my lab and my work, but in this field you’ve got to keep your options open. I arrived in New York City the following week, and was informed that Dr. LaPierre had to reschedule the meeting, but that I would be meeting with BioSyn’s general counsel who had some paperwork for me to sign. I waited for a few minutes, and was then escorted to the general counsel’s office by a large goon who was part of their security staff. He was a well-dressed, military type, sporting a close-cropped, crew cut, and was good looking but serious.”
“I know the type well,” Sarah smiled. “So he made an impression did he?”
Karen returned her smile and continued, “So I met with the general counsel who handed me a file of documents, non-disclosure agreements and things of that nature. I refused to sign because I didn’t know what the meeting was about, and I know enough to know that I need a lawyer when dealing with transactional and contractual issues. So I politely refused to sign them in the office. I could tell that the general counsel was upset though he attempted to hide it. He told me that we had no further business until I signed the agreements and that he was sorry that he wasted my time. So I gathered my things and was about ready to leave when the general counsel received a call from Eckert. He told me that Eckert might still see me if I waited for him to finish up with a meeting. I was then escorted to the penthouse floor of the building where I waited in the lobby of Eckert’s office for about a minute before Eckert himself greeted me.”
“What was he like?” Sarah wanted a detailed view of the meeting beginning with a personal inventory of Eckert.
“He’s frankly a really good looking, nice guy. He is young for his position, in his forties, obviously successful, and I found him to be really smart. Eckert, he likes to be called Eckert, began to tell me about my work. He said that he had studied it and was impressed by how I had the gift of simplifying the really complicated. I thanked him for his kind words, and he talked to me about having me join their team. He offered me a position, my own funding, and my choice of staff if I came to work for him. The only thing that he asked in return was my help in developing Manny’s and Dr. LaPierre’s project. I thanked him for the offer, but told him that I wasn’t prepared to make a decision at the moment and left. Everything seemed okay until a week later when I received a cease-and-desist letter from BioSyn.”
Sarah was puzzled, “Cease-and-desist? What precisely are they asking you to stop work on?”
“Everything. All of my research. The letter alleged that I was infringing on their intellectual property rights, specifically having to do with the chrysalis design, and other research work that I was conducting that had been brought to their attention. They sent the letter to the university, and now I have to appear at an inquiry before the research board regarding the issue. I was supposed to meet with the university’s general counsel’s office, but the last thing that they want to do is make enemies with the biotech industry. So I know I’m screwed.”
Sarah tried to be reassuring, but she was struggling, “I’m sure that this feels like a nightmare to you but it is the reality of how some legal battles are waged.”
“There is something else. I know that it sounds paranoid, but I think that it’s more serious than the legal issue. I didn’t want to mention it over the phone.” Karen’s cappuccino now rippled uncontrollably in her hand. “I tried to contact Manny, but he hasn’t returned my calls or texts. I was able to track down a general number for Dr. LaPierre to inquire about his whereabouts, but again I didn’t get a call back. I actually just got back from San Francisco yesterday morning. I decided to visit the Silicon Valley lab and see if maybe I could catch up with Manny there, but I was told by the technology park’s security personnel that the lab had been closed. Dr. LaPierre returned my call in the interim and told me that Manny had relocated to head their newly opened research facility in China. None of this makes sense.”
“Okay, so besides the fact that Manny is unaccounted for, what’s worrying you?”
“Miles Baker. He’s a computer scientist and researcher in my lab back in Cambridge, or was rather. He’s dead. He died from a massive stroke. The coron
er’s report did not give any more detail than that. I know Miles. He didn’t have a family history, he was healthy, and wasn’t into any illicit drugs. He drank coffee that was about it. We had a physical relationship once. He was needy, but harmless.”
“Do you have reason to believe that anyone would want him dead? Why BioSyn, or anyone involved with Lilith, would want him dead? It seems like that’s what you’re implying.”
“Honestly, I don’t know. He wrote the program that I used to sketch the schematics for the chrysalis. I don’t know much beyond that, how he could have been involved. He died the morning after I developed the chrysalis.” Karen gasped for a much needed breath of air. “I have this horrible fear that his death is tied to this, and to Manny’s disappearance, and to the cease-and-desist letter, all of it. I also have an overwhelming feeling that I’m being watched.” Karen ducked her head lower over her now cold cappuccino.
“Have you seen anything out of the ordinary? The reason I ask is because sometimes these things can happen. Potential litigants sometimes hire private investigators to gather information on the other side that might be useful in a lawsuit, but I honestly don’t see what would be gained by following you. I think that you might be stressed right now about the possible legal action and the attack on your career. Now add to that the unfortunate passing of your close friend, and it’s no wonder that you’re feeling jumpy. You have a lot on your plate right now, but I’m glad that you reached out to me. I haven’t been contacted by BioSyn, and as far as I know, they are not a client of my firm. I will check with our conflicts department to make sure.”