Another Whistle Blower

by Douglass, Carl;

  “I understand, Chick. You have to do what you have to do. I’ll try and help anyway I can.”

  “Lay low, work carefully and quietly, my friend. If I die for any cause before I get the whistleblower action underway, you carry on. I don’t know, but there might even be some money in it for you if you get to that point.”

  Cecil nods. It is time to get out of the sauna before they begin to attract attention. Chick gives Cecil the flash drives, and Cecil feels as if the two small objects will burn a hole in his swim trunks’ pocket.

  Chapter Five

  Cecil returns to his room in the Lagoon tower and secretes the flash drives into a pocket in his camera case where he keeps extra batteries and assorted wires for projecting his photographs on his computer and finessing his digital work—one of his few hobbies. He is satisfied that someone would have to know what he is looking for and that it is in the camera case in order to find the flash drives. They would never come to anyone’s attention as a benign happenstance.

  He calls Andrea on her cell, and they meet in the main reservation lobby to walk together to lunch. He is itching to tell her what Chick Sorenson told him, but he knows that his gregarious and social butterfly wife would never be able to keep it to herself. The couple walks along the archway with all of the magnificent pieces of Asian art and have lunch in the Boat Landing Cantina in the Ocean towers. The waitress makes fresh guacamole at their table, and Cecil and Andrea say that it is the best they have ever eaten. The fresh island fish tacos are special as well for the Utah couple who live where few people like fish. Cecil is finding it hard to relax.

  They sign up for tennis before the luau and go to the dolphin pool to swim next to the graceful animals as the attendants feed them. They rent a cabana, have some lemonade, and take a long nap. Andrea is still asleep when Cecil wakes up. His mind is now very clear, and he makes up his mind what he is going to do.

  The consortium has booked the luau exclusively for the company. The food—luau pig, baked and deep fried chicken and fish, a cornucopia of tropical fruits, poi, and pineapple upside down cake and three kinds of ice cream—make this the most memorable meal that the rather provincial Salt Lake City couple has ever eaten, and they eat too much. The program is hectic, colorful, musical, and a trifle bawdy, with the emcee making allusions to her five marriages. Cecil and Andrea have a memento photograph taken of themselves in fresh-orchid leis.

  There is a surprise for Cecil and Andrea at the banquet. Both Martin Dilworth, the CEO, and Carl Midgely, the head of the legal department, and their wives go out of their way to sit next to the Edgingtons. Cecil and Andrea give each other a questioning look: to what do they owe this honor? They would have considered themselves to be too obscure to merit attention from the senior executives.

  Martin is talkative, obviously with his social skills oiled by a fairly substantial amount of ethanol.

  After some banal chit-chat about family matters, the state of the US economy, the prospect of same-sex marriage, and Andrea’s hobbies, Martin edges into conversation about the business, some of which is uncomfortable for Cecil.

  “Understand you and Chick Sorenson had a pleasant day playing squash and sitting in the sauna.”

  “It was very relaxing,” Cecil says. “In fact, it all but knocked me out. Andrea and I had long naps after that. I woke up hot to trot and ready to roar, as the young people say out in the West.”

  Martin laughs briefly—a laugh that involves his mouth but not the rest of his face and especially not his eyes.

  “I guess you learned that you are not alone in expecting a visit from the IRS.”

  “Yes. I guess it is not surprising.”

  “Oh, in what way?”

  “I just meant that with our earnings for the past three years, it is almost inevitable that they will get interested.”

  “No particular concern, then?”

  “It didn’t seem like that to me,” Cecil says, getting wary.

  He keeps a poker face and pays considerable attention to his extra helping of luau pig.

  “Did Chick seem to be all right? I mean, was he stressed or nervous? Seem to have something on his mind.”

  “Not at all. But, you know, I am hardly anyone he would share anything personal or anything about the big business aspects of the consortium. I’m just one of the very minor cogs in the machine. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any ambitions—just glad to share in the company’s success. If the truth be known, I really don’t have the head for business on that scale. It is all I can do to keep my little drugstore on an even keel.”

  That seems to calm the CEO, and his questions and conversation shifts to golf, the history of the hotel and its part in the very early Hawaiian history, and how did Cecil like swimming with the sea turtles and the dolphins?

  Cecil is aware of a sense of uneasiness. Maybe he is being paranoid, but the CEO’s questions indicate that he is having Andrea and him watched. He wants to think he is being overly dramatic, but he cannot shake the sense that his relationship with Chick Sorenson is a subject of interest to the CEO, and not in a particularly good way. He makes a resolution to watch his back more carefully.

  The senior attorney, Carl Midgely, casually asks, “So, Cecil, need anything for your meeting with the IRS next week?”

  “I thought you wanted me to have someone from corporate to help, or at least to monitor.”

  “I remember now. Maybe we ought to send our guy out to prep you the day before.”

  “I’ll be glad for the help. I’ve never been audited before.”

  Gwen Midgely gives a little laugh and says, “It Rains Sometimes.”

  Martin laughs and says, “That is an understatement when it comes to a visit by those IRS bloodsuckers.”

  Cecil says, “My friends think IRS means, ‘It Really Sucks.”

  They all laugh in agreement, and the tension of Martin’s interrogation is dissipating.

  “The best one, and the one used by people who really get entangled with them, and which is very apt is, ‘Infernal Radiation Stalker,’ which underscores the toxic nature of their probes,” says Martin’s wife, Theresa.

  “Amen,” says the chorus.

  “Anyway,” Martin says, “if there is anything we can do to help, don’t hesitate to give us a jingle. Hey, let’s do breakfast tomorrow. We can pig out at the Big Breakfast.”

  Everybody groans.

  “Hey, how often do you get to eat all fresh stuff and all you can eat in Hawaii? We’ll be hungry by breakfast time tomorrow.”

  “You mean around noon,” Theresa says.

  “Right. That’s what I said, ‘breakfast time.’”

  At seven the next morning, Cecil walks over to the Ocean tower to see if Chick wants to go for a swim with him before the breakfast. He knocks on the door to the room of Chick and his wife, Marilyn, and is met by the housekeeper.

  “Can I help you?” she asks in a Cantonese accent.

  “I see that you are doing a big cleanup. Has the couple moved to another room or something?”

  “No, sir. I think they checked out last night.”

  That comes as a considerable surprise. Cecil is not sure what to think. He decides to wait until that night to call Chick to see if he can find out what is going on and whether or not he ought to worry. It bothers him all day.

  Breakfast goes well. The food is fabulous. The Big Island Breakfast at Water’s Edge offers a lavish breakfast buffet with freshly baked pastries, fresh island fruits, traditional American fare, and a selection of Japanese specialty dishes. Andrea frets that she is going to look like a blimp when they get back home, and Cecil worries that he might burst his stomach. But neither of them can resist just one more nibble of a petit four. There is no repeat quasi-interrogation from the execs, but it is still a matter of minor concern for Cecil that they are paying him and Andrea so much attention.

  Near the end of the big buffet, Midgely asks an innocuous question, “Are you going to be okay with the IRS, Cecil? I
know that you must be a bit off from your usual life so far having so much more money. Try and enjoy it. With Mastcakil, we should stay rich for the rest of our natural lives. Right now, it seems excessive, I know, but remember, nothing succeeds like excess. Martin and I are headed back to Florida tonight. Lots of things going on. Let’s get together soon, all right?”

  Cecil is not all that keen on ‘getting together’ with the big brass of the consortium, especially after having the talk with Chick Sorenson. The extra attention being paid him hardens his resolve to look deeper into his life as one of the petit nouveau riche. For the time being, Cecil plays a role—the happy husband, the newly rich man working for a fine pharmaceutical company and helping its success, and the man enjoying the dream vacation of his and his wife’s lives. He wants Andrea to have pure and untainted happiness for the next three days while he plots what he will do when he is back in Salt Lake City and able to get as much control of his life as possible.

  Andrea is in love with the Waikoloa hotel. Cecil spares no expense or effort to give her three days of a second honeymoon. The Hilton Waikoloa is an oceanfront resort set on sixty-two of tropical grounds against a backdrop of ancient black lava flows within view of two distant volcanic peaks. Once she and Cecil became members of the newly affluent subset of Utah society, Andrea became an ardent fitness buff. Staying fit is a pleasure at the luxury resort. During their remaining three days, the pair take full advantage of the state-of-the-art tennis courts, the swimming pools, and take lessons on the championship golf courses. They eat like kings and queens. They have to pay for food, but they have plenty of money for exotic Japanese delicacies, perfect prime steaks, and island seafood fresh that day.

  Each night the Edgingtons experience some new gastronomic delight. They eat at restaurants so expensive they would never dream of walking in the door if they were back home. The Imari Restaurant has taken Japanese cooking to an art form. They discover a variety of styles new to them like teppanyaki, where chefs expertly prepare their meal at their table with creative Japanese cuisine and fresh exotic sushi. They have to unwind from such gourmet excesses; so, they luxuriate in the renowned Kohala Spa, like the king and queen they are for three days.

  They spend their last night in Hawaii at the Kirin Chinese Restaurant with its lanai seating. The elegant and extremely expensive restaurant is decorated with one-of-a-kind Chinese furnishings that boggle the Edgingtons’ minds. They know they are just playing the role of the very rich, but once in a lifetime it seems to be all right to seem to be what the other rich people sitting around them really are. They share dim sum and sample cooking styles from the major regions of China—Hunan, Szechuan, Beijing, and Canton. Andrea sees the entire experience in Hawaii as a dream come true. Cecil’s view is clouded by the disturbing revelations from Chick Sorensen and is afraid that this may well be their last extravaganza.

  Chapter Six

  Chick arrives back in Florida and heads directly to his office. The impetus for leaving early is from a remark made by an old friend during the luau at Waikoloa.

  Sandy Kohler is the quality control officer at ZyterBrothersTechnologies. Chick worked with him, and they became golfing buddies when Chick was the CFO for Zyter Brothers. Sandy and Chick greet each other warmly and bring each other up-to-date on their lives.

  Chick asks matter-of-factly how the post debut experience is going with Mastcakil.

  Sandy says, “A bit nettling.”

  “Nettling? What does that mean?”

  “Somewhere between interesting and concerning. Maybe not so far as worrisome.”

  “Hey, Sandy, we’re on the same team. What’s up?”

  “Look, old buddy, you did not hear this from me. There have been six episodes of TdP [Torsades de Pointes].”

  Chick visibly pales. Torsades is caused by an abnormal prolongation of the Q-T interval of the electrocardiogram which—if the pause is long enough—can result in a form of irregular heartbeat that originates from the ventricles. These episodes may lead to palpitations, fainting, and sudden death due to ventricular fibrillation. Drugs are sometimes the cause, and with so many occurring this soon after Mastcakil was released, it is not likely that it is a coincidence.

  Sandy’s face reveals that he has more to report. Chick is not sure he wants to hear anything more.

  “I appreciate that this is upsetting, Chick, but it has not been reported yet. We’ll get a black box warning from the FDA when it does.”

  “And the stock values will plummet.”

  “At least. But I told you there’s more. We are getting quite a few reports of skin rashes, some of them bad enough to require hospitalization. The really bad thing is that there have been ten—ten!—cases of SJS [Stevens-Johnson syndrome].”

  Now, Chick looks as if he might faint. He sits down and takes a drink of water. He looks questioningly at his friend.

  “And?”

  “And, six died—all of them Asians; two almost died but were in the hospital at the time and were saved by the miracle of modern medicine, and two had a rough time of it but were caught in time to save them.”

  Chick wants to put his head in his hands and bawl. He is familiar with the syndrome from past drug trials. SJS is one of the great calamities that can strike any user of a drug, and for the drug company that manufactures the medication. Stevens-Johnson syndrome—erythema multiforme major, or toxic epidermal necrolysis—is a rare but very serious condition that causes sores that are like boils on the mucous membranes of the mouth, nose, genitals, and eyelids. A widespread—sometimes whole body confluent skin rash of irregularly shaped, flat, purplish red spots develops, which may become very painful. The syndrome is an intense allergic reaction that causes severe skin and internal organ damage, and has the highest occurrence rate in people of Asian ancestry who have a genetic (inherited) risk factor. It usually occurs during the first few months of treatment with the drug. Upwards of fifteen percent of patients with the syndrome die.

  The usual argument by plaintiff’s attorneys in cases of SJS is: pharmaceutical manufacturers are aware of the risks associated with their drugs, yet proper warnings are for the most part inadequate. They cite national database evidence that in nearly twenty percent of patients who develop SJS, the drug was contraindicated when it was prescribed. So, attorneys have two avenues of approach: a “failure to advise” cause and medical malpractice. It may even occur in OTC [over-the-counter] drugs like ibuprofen—found in Advil and Motrin and such varied drugs as Bactrim, a sulfa drug; Ketek, an antibiotic; Dilantin, an anticonvulsant; levofloxacin, a serious antibiotic in the fluoroquinolone family, and Tolectin. It has been a bonanza for class-action tort law attorneys.

  Chick is already reeling from the blows inflicted by his friend’s revelations, but to his continuing dismay, Sandy is still talking.

  “We have eleven confirmed cases of leukopenia, and four of them developed fatal agranulocytosis and bone-marrow failure.”

  Leukopenia is a condition consisting of a decrease in the number of WBCs [white blood cells]. Agranulocytosis is a severe form of leukopenia. The condition is often associated with cancer chemotherapy. There are other drugs that cause the condition, such as: clozapine, an antipsychotic medication; sodium valproate and lamotrigine, antiepileptic agents; immune-suppressive drugs, such as sirolimus, mycophenolate mofetil, tacrolimus, and cyclosporine, that are used in transplant patients; interferons used in treatment of multiple sclerosis and hepatitis C; Bupropion, an antidepressant and smoking addiction treatment drug; Minocycline, an antibiotic, and even penicillin in some susceptible patients. Leukopenia, like Torsades de Pointes, and Stevens-Johnson syndrome, are the great fears of drug manufacturers, because, when present, they are all but indefensible in court.

  Chick knows that his world has just collapsed.

  “And you haven’t turned in your report yet?”

  “True. We’ve sent a heads up to corporate, and they will get the formal message tomorrow afternoon. It will be up to them what happe
ns next. A public admission will destroy the sales of drugs and maybe even the company. Suppression of the report could prolong the lucrative life time of Mastcakil for months, maybe even years. The WOMs [wise old men] in Miami have that decision to deal with.”

  “If they don’t act, will you put out a warning?”

  “Way above my pay grade, Chick. I just work here.”

  Me, too, thinks Chick. So what am I going to do?

  He gathers his thinking mind back again.

  “Sandy, I would be very indebted to you for a copy of your report. I am afraid it is going to get lost one way or another, once it reaches consortium HQ.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised; so, like all the rest of my reports, I will have copies on my computer and a hard copy in my locked files. I’ll give you a thumb drive instead of paper. If someone gets on your case, you will have to say you stole it. Okay?”

  “Okay. We’re friends, and I would never hurt you.”

  Chapter Seven

  The day after Chick arrives back in Miami, there is a closed emergency top executive meeting. He makes sure that his Spy-Tec voice-activated USB flash drive recorder has a fresh new battery and that he has a supply of two extra tapes. The battery life is seventeen hours; so, he does not need to worry. But, for this occasion, Chick Sorenson becomes a belt-and-suspenders careful man. The senior corporate attorney, Carl Midgely, catches him just before the meeting is scheduled to start.

  “I wanted to give you a heads up, Chick. After the meeting, Martin, you, and I will have to have a meeting in my office.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “You might say so. In the executive meeting we will be discussing a new report from Sandy Kohler, the quality control officer at Zyter Brothers. Do you know him?”

  Chick scarcely hesitates for a second, and he fights to keep his face neutral.

  “Ummh … I don’t think so. Must have come after my time over there.”

  “Well, prepare yourself. It looks like we are going to have to deal with a ticking time bomb.”