HD66: Search for a cure or a killer?

by Babs Carryer

  “We did,” Gigi chimes in. “We certainly did, but it wasn’t worth it,” she says sadly.

  “Errol was a better scientist than Stronghold, and I’ll bet that our Parkinson’s program shows more promise. If he got that in the deal he could bury it to keep his own program alive.”

  “Or claim it as his own,” I interject.

  “Brie, you think like a criminal,” Matt says approvingly and smiles. “You fucking do.”

  “So, if I get this right,” Jim says, “you think that Errol kept our Parkinson’s program out of the NGX deal so that, when it became successful, it would put Stronghold’s program to shame? Hamper the company. Maybe even jeopardize his job?”

  We all pause. There is dead silence in the room.

  “Is that enough for murder?” Gigi asks.

  “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “But it’s enough to go to Detective Henrik with.”

  “It’s something, not nothing,” Matt declares. “Go for it, Brie,” Matt commands. Ever the CEO.

  …….

  Back in my office I have an email from Justin with a contact number and email for Stu. I email Stu, pithily explaining who I am, that I’m doing research for my company on CodeGenetics, and that it would be very helpful if I could ask him a few questions. We agree to Skype that afternoon.

  In the meantime I call Straler and we agree to meet for lunch. “Anyplace but Ritter’s,” I beg.

  “OK,” he replies. “Their burgers are really good, though.”

  I give in, “Ritter’s is fine, actually. I don’t have much time,” I say lamely. I hear his chuckle as we sign off.

  Straler is waiting for me when I enter the diner. He gives me a big smile as I slide into the opposite side of the booth. I can feel the heat rise to my face, and I immediately bury my face in the menu. “You don’t know it by heart?” he asks, goading me.

  I look up. Straler is staring at me, his intense blue eyes boring into mine.

  “OK, Brie, shoot. I know you’ve got something – for me,” he teases.

  I’m sure that I blush again, but I don’t care. He tilts his head like Luna. “OK, I have some thoughts…” He’s is still gazing at me. “OK more than thoughts,” I admit. “A hunch, a suspicion.” I see his blue eyes sparkle.

  Ethyl, who has the brightest red hair on the planet, clears her throat. Clearly, she has been waiting. “Yinz know what ya wanna eat?” she asks, her gum popping and a big smile showing many crowned teeth with a wide dark line at the top where they meet her gums.

  “I’ll take the corned beef sandwich and fries,” Straler says. “And for you, Brie? What would you like, dear?” he asks, mockingly.

  “Oh, I’ll take the vegetable soup and a roll.”

  Ethyl smiles, “Yinz wan anything to drink?”

  I start, “coffee and water, which I see I already have,” I add as Straler points to our coffees and water already on the table.

  As Ethyl wanders off, I tell Straler the whole story, starting with Amy’s call, the enmity between Errol and Stronghold, his suspicion that Dr. Mutase was murdered, the conflict at the university, the license, the startup, and his focus on Parkinson’s Disease. Our food comes around the time I am mentioning the license with the university. Straler looks thoughtful as he munches, making a few notes in his book, looking intensely at me while he listens. I finish by telling him about my conversation at Quixotic.

  “I wanted to include you, but I thought it would be best to do that in person,” I explained.

  “You mean after you already decided to take matters into your own hands?” Is he accusing me?

  “No, I, well, I owed it to them to tell them right away. Anyway, you didn’t answer your phone. I tried.”

  “Shit. Sorry.” He’s contrite. But he’s angry. He doesn’t like being left out. I guess that’s why he’s an up-and-coming detective.

  He finishes the last of his fries and sandwich. I haven’t touched my soup. He looks at the bowl, “Your turn,” he announces.

  I start to sip my soup and break my bread into little bits as he lays out a plan of action. It includes both of us. “We have to talk to Stronghold. And we have to do that in person. Can’t do that over the phone. Too easy to lie or for us not to catch what he means.” He pauses, then asks, “Fancy a trip to Boston?”

  “I’d love to,” I reply, mopping the last of my soup with a crust of bread.

  “I’ll take a few days afterwards and head to Amherst to visit my folks. My dad is sick, and I like to get there whenever I can.” I add as an afterthought.

  “Yeah, I remember,” Straler says, reminding me of my trip to New York and the ruse about going up north.

  “This time you’ll know where I am,” I say glibly.

  “Yep, very true,” he quips.

  I don’t tell him about the upcoming call with Stu. I figure he’d want to be there, and how would I explain about a cop listening in? Better to do this on my own. Safer, I thought. He’s far away in California. Did Boris ever make it there? He never called back.

  …….

  I get a bit of background after we wave at each other from our computers as we start our Skype call. Stu had stayed at CodeGenetics through two mergers. He left with a generous severance package when they merged with Neuro Pharmaceuticals. He took six months off, surfing and diving in Hawaii. Then he relocated to the Bay Area and co-founded a startup based on technology that could help detect melanoma faster and cheaper than current methods. I told him that I wanted to talk about his time at CodeGenetics because I was doing research about people who had discovered and developed technologies for Parkinson’s Disease. It was not quite true, but it would get to the heart of talking about Stronghold. I told Stu that I had found Stronghold through his scientific publications (this was somewhat true as I had read them as part of my research). I made it sound like we were maybe going to spin something off around Parkinson’s and that we were looking for potential co-founders, advisors and board members. “Part of the due diligence is focused on who these people are and whether they would be good chemistry for our effort,” I end my introduction.

  “Oh sure,” Stu says. “I can tell ya lots about Martin Stronghold. “He’s been there a long time, you know. He’s a good-bad guy. Some people don’t like him; he’s got one of those strong personalities, pun unintended, where you either are for him or against him, if you know what I mean. Oh, he can be difficult, don’t get me wrong. He hired and fired indiscriminately, and there were people who that didn’t sit well with. But I think that his science was basically sound, and the company was based on his technology. They’d been pursuing different things before he came on board. I wasn’t there from the beginning. I came on after Martin, but I knew the history. Martin was a master at fundraising. The guy could talk circles around anyone, and he’s hard to resist. Particularly when he wants something. I had a good ending there, Martin made sure of that,” Stu chuckles.

  “I heard he can be prone to temper, that there have been some issues?” I query.

  “Oh sure, Martin can be a train wreck when it comes to people. He gets angry, and he can hold a grudge. Not against me, mind you. I’m one of the good guys. But, yes, there have been some issues. Like with anyone with a big ego. You must see them there, in Picksburgh.”

  Did he just deliberately mispronounce my city? I see him smiling on the other end. “Anyway, like I said, people either like him and get along with him, play with him, or…” he trails off.

  “Or what?” I ask innocently. I am sure that I look the part of the stupid strawberry blond…

  “Or they don’t,” he ends abruptly. “Look is there a reason that you want to know? Martin is my friend. He’s done a lot for me. I wouldn’t be where I am without him. I’m not going to trash him. I really can’t afford to get on his bad side…”

  “Oh no,” I answer quickly. “I’m sorry if you got that impression. I’m just trying to make sure that we get people on board who are able to get along and row in the same direc
tion. I’m sure that you understand how important that is for a startup.”

  “Yeah, I gotcha there. Martin isn’t really a startup guy, you know. He’s been with a big company for a while, and he’s pretty settled in his ways. He’s got plans. I don’t think that he’d change those for anyone, and he’d give anyone who tried to derail him hell. Know what I mean?” Stu pauses and then adds, “Look if I can help in any way, don’t hesitate, but I gotta go. I’m gonna tell Martin that we talked.”

  Oh no! “Actually, it would be better for us,” I say as sweetly as I can, “If you just keep this between us. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. And we haven’t really decided… on the advisors and all that. I’d like us to ask him first, if it makes sense.”

  “OK,” Stu replies. “Well, good luck with your project,” and he signs off.

  This might have been a mistake, I realize.

  Buzz! I get a text message from Straler about going to Boston the next day. Quixotic would have to pay for my ticket, but he gave me the flight information so that I could book on the same flight. The text says that he has arranged to meet with Stronghold at 11 a.m. at his office. I have work to do!

  Chapter 33

  April 1

  I am generally not included in board meetings. What does a board do, really? Jim is board chair. He runs the meetings like a dinner party, greeting the members individually, asking about their families, then bringing them all to order and proceeding through the very full agenda. There is always dessert – something sweet. He ends on a high note.

  In the past, I prepared materials, and once I gave a short presentation. But they asked me to join the meeting today because it is about Errol. I dress carefully, knowing it will be a long and important day. I brief Matt, Jim, Gigi, and Stan about my conversation with Stu and my plan to go to Boston with Straler. No one has volunteered to go with me. Fine, I think. I’ll solve this on my own. They all seem preoccupied with other priorities. What could be more important than solving this murder? Of course, they don’t know that I have another reason to find Errol’s killer.

  It’s 9 a.m. as I enter the conference room. Matt and Jim are the only official members of the board. Gigi and Stan attend the board meetings but don’t have a vote. Errol was the same. He is noticeably absent. This is the first board meeting since his death.

  Josh is there from Bigfoot. So is Jeb from Sanguine. I didn’t pick either of them up from the airport. Glad of that. Errol was right about VCs. Plus they’re all middle-aged white men. With names like Josh and Jeb. Bet they golf too. At the table is also Carleen, who runs the GreenBush local angel fund. NGX has no representation. They didn’t want a seat, I’d been told at the time by a smug Errol.

  I take my seat and glance around. There is a stony silence in the room.

  Jim calls the meeting to order. “We are here to discuss some difficult decisions. This is very challenging time in our company’s history. Our drug has failed the final clinical trial. We have lost the deal with NGX. We are in a legal situation with them now about what rights we have to our drug, the data from the trial, and what they owe us. Our legal bills are mounting up. We have confidence that the situation with NGX will be resolved, but we cannot predict when or the final cost. We have lost our chief inventor and scientist. We have learned that his death was not an accident or a suicide. We know in fact that he was murdered.” There is a hush in the room. “There is a detective working the case, and he has made some progress, but we have not yet learned the identity of the murderer. We are here today to discuss our future.” He turns to Matt. “Anything to add, CEO?”

  “Just that we need your support during these trying times.”

  Josh starts the conversation off. “First of all, I want to say how sorry I am that all of this is happening. I had such great hopes…”

  Jeb from Sanguine interrupts, “Damn, Matt. Really? What the hell? We’ve got a company in the toilet, a lawsuit against a multi-billion dollar company, and, to top it off, a murder investigation that could drag on and on. This casts a shadow on future operations and funding. The stakes are high.”

  Carleen adds, “We have to face reality. We may need to make some changes.”

  “I can explain,” Matt starts.

  “Face reality!” Jeb yells. You. Have. To. Face. Reality!”

  Matt looks flustered. I’ve never seen him like this. Gigi melts into the wall behind her. Jim is silent but looks grave.

  “There’s no future here,” Jeb continues. “This company is going down the tubes. We can’t fund it. It’s un-fundable.”

  “Jeb, let’s not be hasty,” Matt cautions.

  “I am not being hasty. To survive, this company will need to change. As Carleen says. We’ll need new management and…”

  “New management?” Matt thunders. “Are you firing me?”

  Jeb answers, “Yes, Matt, that’s exactly what we are doing.”

  “How long do I have?”

  The board meeting has erupted into chaos. People are talking over each other, and I can’t make sense of what is happening. All I know is that I heard that our CEO is being forced out. We will be leaderless and rudderless without both Matt and Errol. I will likely be out of a job, as will others. I see Jim’s hands shake as he tries to bring order to the room. I realize I have nothing to add and slip out unnoticed.

  Chapter 34

  April 2

  We are flying Southwest Airlines from Pittsburgh to Boston. I’m not sure the detective has been on a Southwest flight before. Like most Southwest newbies, he is confused about the open seating and how you line up. When I explain, and he gets in line with the other Bs, he starts joking with the folks in front of him and behind. A big toothy smile and they look like they are best friends. “Guess this makes for a lot more efficiency,” I hear him say. I am in the Cs so am not in line with him. Straler looks over and smiles at me, gesturing that he’ll see me on board as he moves up in line. Good thing he doesn’t have to wear a uniform. A policeman might not be so popular.

  “I hope that you know Boston,” Straler asks me when I meet him in the gate area as I emerge from the plane. He doesn’t have any luggage, and I have just a small carry on. He offers to carry it for me but I shrug him off. He takes it off me after I trip over it, and he laughs as he strides down the hallway towards the exit. I run to catch up.

  I arranged to rent a car because I’ll drive to Amherst after our meeting with Stronghold. “I’m pretty familiar with the city; we’ll be fine. I know how to drive to our location in Cambridge. I can drop you off at a T station or the airport depending on what time we’re finished. Unless you have to stay and, like, make an arrest.”

  He looks at me eagerly. “That’s great. I’ve always wanted to go to Boston. Now here I am. With you,” he says and he gives me that certain smile. Quivers in my stomach. Oh, Neal, I think.

  NGX is on the main drag of Cambridge a few blocks away from MIT. There are several parking garages nearby, and we pull into one a few blocks away. We try to be casual as we walk the two blocks to NGX’s headquarters. But Straler’s strides are long and purposeful. I can barely keep up. Once inside, the usual young and attractive woman is behind the counter. Why is it never a man?

  Straler introduces us. “I’m Detective Henrik. This is Ms. Prince. We’re here to meet with Dr. Martin Stronghold,” he says with a smile, which is returned in a big way. She says that she will be back shortly. Her hips sway as she moves down the hall.

  A few minutes later she reappears with another woman, this one older and smartly dressed, clearly Stronghold’s assistant. “I am so sorry, Detective. I apologize for this, but Dr. Stronghold was called away on important business early this morning. I tried calling the Quixotic main number, but there was no answer. It was before business hours and you had probably already left Pittsburgh. I really am so sorry.” She does not sound sincere. After a short pause she adds, “Is there anything that I can help you with? Or, would you like to make another appointment?”

&nbs
p; “We’ll be in touch,” Straler replies curtly.

  The woman graces him with a tight smile. “Yes, I’m sure that you will.” She turns and we hear her heels clicking down the hallway. We go outside into the Boston sun, the receptionist looking longingly as the door swings shut behind us. Straler is fuming.

  “I don’t buy it; getting called away at the last minute. What a snake,” he says. “We’ll try by phone. I’ll arrange a call as soon as I’m back. We won’t let him go. He HAS to talk to us,” Straler assures me. “You go on to your folks.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll drop you at the T station.” Straler glances at his watch. I realize that there’s quite a bit of time before he has to catch his plane back to Pittsburgh.

  “I have a better idea. Let’s grab a cup of coffee. I can point out some fun places for you to walk. And, if you’re hungry, Legal Seafoods is around the corner. And yes it is da best clam chowdah in de world,” I say in a deliberate Boston accent.

  He smiles. In the coffee shop I pull up a map of the T on my phone and show him where we are and how to get back to the airport. I give him some pointers on sites that he might enjoy in Cambridge and leave him to walk in the direction of the parking garage. I hear him whistling as I walk away. He’s a happy, off-duty detective, out for a few hours in a fun place that he hasn’t been before. Arresting a suspect will have to wait.

  …….

  I turn on the radio as I drive off. When I hit the Mass Pike it’s only 11:30 a.m. Great. I’ll be home by 1 p.m. My folks aren’t expecting me until later, so I should call them and warn them. I look at the speedometer and realize I should slow down. I see a red car, maybe a mustang, on my tail. Geez, he’s close. I take a long breath and settle into my drive. Digging into my purse for my phone, I see that the red car is still behind me, really close. Too close. Shoot. Back off, buddy.