by D P Lyle
“That’s Evan R. Lawson, superspy,” I heard Evan say. Then I heard Divya’s voice, obviously recorded, say, Evan R. Lawson is a superspy.
“Don’t tell me he tricked you again?”
“More like forced.”
“Forced?”
“Boring story. I’ll tell you later. The important thing is that we found out what we needed to know.”
“We?” Evan said. “We didn’t do anything. It was Lawson, Evan R. Lawson, that broke the code.”
I heard Divya sigh loudly. “Can I shoot him?”
“Be my guest. But first tell me how he managed to do it.”
“That girl he met at the open house? Cindy something? She took him down for another oxygen-chamber visit. While down there, charming her, as he put it, she told him they have a room where they put all their meds together.”
“One thing you can say about Evan, he has the gift of gab.”
“The problem is getting him to shut up,” Divya said.
“I’m almost at the medical society’s office. I’ll give you a call when I leave.”
I then dialed Amanda Brody’s number. She needed to know what I had learned about the pills she was taking. Maybe then she would stop them. I got no answer, so I left a message, asking her to call.
Ten minutes later I parked near the entrance of the lowslung building and went inside. The receptionist told me that Dr. Bernstein was on the phone but should be off any minute. She offered coffee and soft drinks, but I declined. I sat on a sofa with cushions too firm to be comfortable and thumbed through a six-month-old issue of Scientific American .
“Any minute” turned out to be fifteen before she directed me into his office. Dr. Bernard Bernstein looked to be in his sixties with thinning gray hair that swept over the top of his head. He wore a brown suit, a white shirt, and a yellow tie. His desk was neat except for a loose stack of papers in front of him. He stood when I came in.
“Dr. Lawson, welcome.”
“Thanks for seeing me.”
We shook hands. He waved me to the single chair that faced his desk, and dropped back into his high-backed oxblood leather seat.
“I’ve been hearing good things about you. Seems you’re developing quite a practice over in the Hamptons.”
“I pay people to say nice things.” I smiled. He almost did. “Things are going very well.”
“That’s wonderful. Maybe we can interest you in a membership to our society. We have excellent educational programs for our physicians. I think you’d enjoy being a member.”
“I just might do that. Thank you.”
He scratched one ear and studied me for a minute. “You were a little cryptic when you called, so what exactly can I do for you?”
“I didn’t want to talk about this on the phone. It’s delicate. I thought it might be better face-to-face.”
He settled his elbows on the edge of his desk and tented his fingers before him. “Now I am intrigued.”
“It’s about Julian Morelli. I have some concerns about some of his treatments.”
His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed slightly. “I can’t imagine that. Julian has had a nutrition practice for many years and has a very loyal following.”
“I know. I’ve visited his clinic and it’s quite impressive.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I explained to him what had happened to Valerie Gilroy and her blood test results as well as those of Rose Maher and Amanda Brody. I didn’t tell him about having the pills analyzed, since I wasn’t sure what the legal ramifications of doing that might be.
He squared up the loose papers in front of him and aligned them with the edge of his desk. He nodded slowly and then his gaze came up to me. “You think that Julian Morelli is giving these ladies all of these medications?”
“Each of them have been taking supplements that they received from him. Each of them had similar laboratory findings. Dig, amphetamines, and thyroid for sure, and probably some type of diuretic. This seems like an odd, even a dangerous, combination. I think you can see my concern.”
“I’ve known Julian Morelli for decades. We went to school together. College at Princeton and then he studied nutrition at Yale while I was there in medical school. I can tell you without a doubt he is one of the most competent and professional people I’ve ever known.”
I was torn. Should I tell him about the chemical analysis of the pills? He apparently wasn’t willing to accept what appeared to be obvious to me. I decided it might be better to see how far he would go to cover for Julian, if indeed that was his intention.
“Perhaps there’s another explanation for how each of these women ended up with the same toxic substances in their blood,” I said. “I just can’t think of one.”
“Dr. Lawson, I don’t have to tell you that in medicine things are not always as they seem. These women might be getting pills from several doctors. Thyroid medication from one. Digitalis from another. Diuretics? People pass those to each other all the time. So there might be an innocent explanation for your findings.”
“I thought about that. The problem I’m having is that two of the women are my patients, so I know what they are taking. Valerie Gilroy is a high schooler. Runs cross-country on the track team. Very much into diet and nutrition. The only medications she takes are the ones she received from Morelli.”
He raised an eyebrow. “As far as you know. Right? Patients don’t always tell us everything, do they?” He offered a paternal smile. “And teenage girls?” He opened his palms toward me. “They do some very strange things. Swap medications and drugs with classmates all the time.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a minute before continuing. “It’s a big problem. It’s one that we here at the society are attempting to solve through a schooloutreach program we’re putting together. It might simply be that. She might have gotten these medications from her classmates.”
“I agree that that’s possible, but it doesn’t feel that way.”
“Feel that way?”
“Too many coincidences to ignore, I would think.”
He pinned me with a hard stare. “I must admit I’m a little taken aback by this. You come here with allegations that are quite serious yet you have no real proof. What do you expect me to do?”
“I’m not sure you can do anything. This might be more a legal matter than a medical matter. I don’t know. I just thought you might have a committee that looked into complaints of this nature.”
“We do. We take every legitimate complaint against a physician or health care provider in this county very seriously.”
He leaned on the word legitimate. Basically saying that my complaints had no legitimacy and that he wasn’t going to do anything about it.
I also knew that I was wasting my time here. I stood.
“I just wanted to make you aware of my concerns. That’s all.”
Now he smiled as he walked me to the door, a hand on my shoulder. “I appreciate you coming in and bringing your concerns to my attention. Even though I doubt there is any merit to them, you can be assured that I will look into this matter.”
As I walked across the parking lot to my car, I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to open any investigation on this. He was going to protect his buddy and brush me aside.
Should I have told him about the test results on the pills? Would it have made any difference? I doubted it. Would exposing the fact that we secretly analyzed a proprietary product blow up in my face, or more important, in Jill’s face? Possibly. Though testing the pills seemed commonsensical to me, the law isn’t always that practical. The truth was that we had no legal standing to perform such tests and doing so could bring down a ton of trouble. On one level it might even be considered corporate espionage.
Hmmm. Maybe I could blame it on Lawson, Evan R. Lawson.
Chapter 38
The traffic was light on both Route 454 and Route 27, so I made good time. I also made a few calls. The first to the Wentworth estate. I
wanted to talk to Nicole about the poison pills she was taking. Sam answered and said she had gone shopping with Ashley and probably wouldn’t be back for another hour or so. I asked how Ellie was doing.
“She looks splendid,” Sam said. “She’s out back overseeing the wedding preparations. She complains about the work her parties require, but she thrives on them. Sometimes I think that’s when she’s happiest.”
“Don’t let her overdo it.”
“I just made a fresh pitcher of lemonade for her and the workers. I’ll make sure she sits down and relaxes for a while. Maybe. Sometimes she can be most difficult.”
I couldn’t help laughing to myself as I disconnected the call. That was so Ellie. She was one of those who would never let age turn her to rust. I had no doubt that she would be busy with some project at the moment she took her last breath. We should all be that lucky.
Next I called Amanda Brody. Again. Still no answer. I left another message.
Last, I called Jill. She was in her office pushing paper around, as she called it.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Not well. He didn’t seem very interested and is definitely going to protect Julian Morelli.”
“I figured. They go way back. No way Bernstein would turn on him.”
“I didn’t tell him about the analysis of the pills.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure what we did was entirely legal. Sending his products to a lab for testing without his blessing? I know the police or the medical examiner could do that, but I’m not sure we can.”
“But that might have made a difference. If Bernstein had evidence that the pills Julian was pushing contained all these toxic chemicals, he might’ve seen things differently.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But I don’t think so. I got the impression he didn’t really care what I had to say.”
I could hear her take a sip of coffee. “I’d bet he got on the phone to Julian before you left the building.”
“I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”
“What do you think he’ll do? Julian?”
“What would you do? I suspect he’ll go through the roof.” I sighed. “Too late to worry about that now.”
“What’s next?”
“I’m heading home to hook up with Divya and Evan. Another ESM, I’m sure.”
“ESM?”
“Emergency staff meeting.”
Jill laughed. “Better you than me.”
“I’m sure it’ll be about the van.”
“He hasn’t let that go yet?”
“You know Evan. Once he gets focused, it’s hard to shake him loose.”
“True.” Another sip of coffee. “But what I was asking is, what are you going to do about Julian Morelli?”
“Try to warn Nicole and Amanda Brody. After that, I’m not sure.”
“The police? Would they be helpful here?”
I was now only about ten miles from home, but the traffic on Route 27 had suddenly thickened and my speed was down to thirty miles an hour. I maneuvered around an eighteen-wheeler with a giant picture of a Hostess cupcake on the side. I just realized I was hungry.
“Maybe. I guess if we presented them with the evidence we have, they might open an investigation.”
“Might be worth a shot.”
“Might get me sued, too. Defamation or slander or something like that.”
“Hmmm.”
“Hmmm what?” I asked.
She sighed heavily. “With your history . . . I can just see Morelli dragging all that up. Turning the tables on you.”
My history. Getting fired for letting a billionaire die. I couldn’t defend myself then, so how would I be able to now? Morelli might use that against me. And if Morelli could cover his tracks, spin things back on me, I might even lose my license. False accusations, or those that couldn’t be proved, same thing, could do that. What a mess. Damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.
“You sure know how to brighten my day,” I said.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No. You’re right. I have to at least consider that possibility.”
“I’ve got a meeting to go to. You want to grab a drink later? Maybe dinner?”
“Maybe a drink and then straight to dessert?”
“Is this becoming an obscene call?”
“Absolutely.”
She laughed. “We’ll see.”
“It sure would brighten my day.”
She laughed again, told me she would call later, and hung up.
As I drove up the long driveway that led to Shadow Pond, I saw Boris’s Bentley behind me. Dieter driving, Boris in back. Looked like he was on the phone.
I parked and climbed from my Saab. The Bentley slid to a stop next to me. Boris stepped out, closing his cell phone and dropping it into his jacket pocket.
“That matter you asked about,” Boris said.
“StellarCare?”
“Exactly.” He motioned to Dieter to go ahead inside. “They are well funded. Two Swiss venture capitalists with an interest in health care. They own several clinics and spas. Saint Moritz, Vienna, Cologne, Munich, Monte Carlo, and Oslo. Plans are in the works to open more in Hong Kong, Sydney, and Bali.”
“StellarCares?”
“No. These are a combination of a medical clinic and resort spa. They call it Destination Healthcare.”
“Like medical evaluations combined with spa facilities?” I asked.
“Exactly. StellarCare seems to be new for them. Only two years.” His phone buzzed. He tugged it from his pocket and answered, telling whoever it was that he’d call right back. “For these facilities it seems they partnered with Dr. Wilhelm Dietrich. Ever heard of him?”
“No.”
“Right now he’s in Zurich. He’s been there since StellarCare began. Before that, he moved around a great deal.”
“Why?”
“Let’s say his methods are odd. Unsound. He’s been accused of many things over the years. Mainly medical malpractice.”
I sighed. “This is bigger than I thought.”
“I’m afraid you’re correct. Dietrich’s specialty is nutrition, herbal treatments, and the like.”
“Any evidence that Julian gets his herbs from Dietrich?”
“I haven’t looked into that. Would you like me to?”
I did, but I felt uncomfortable asking Boris for another favor. “You’ve been generous with your time already. Let me think about it.”
He nodded. “It’s no problem.” He turned and walked into the house.
When I reached the guesthouse, I found that the ESM had been set up outside on the patio table, where Evan and Rachel Fleming sat. New drawings of the HankMed van littered the tabletop, and surrounded a bowl of popcorn.
I grabbed a handful of popcorn and sat down. Through the windows I saw Divya at her desk, laptop open, phone to her ear. How did she pull off avoiding this meeting?
The popcorn was still warm, a little salty, and definitely not as good as a Hostess Twinkie would have been. I should have hijacked the truck I had seen earlier.
“How’s the hand doing?” I asked Rachel.
She held it up. “Better. Still a little sore, but I’ll survive.”
“If you keep your distance from Evan, that is,” I said. “Let me see.”
She extended her hand toward me. The fingers, still splinted and taped together, felt warm and had good capillary blood flow. Seemed to be healing well. Except for the two fingernails. They were black and ugly.
“You know those are going to fall off,” I said.
“My fingers?”
I looked at her and realized she was kidding me. “Hopefully only the nails.”
“Sure trashed my eighty-dollar manicure.”
“When they regrow, maybe Evan will pay for a new one.”
“It was an accident,” Evan said. Then he looked at Rachel. “I guess a new manicure is the least I could do.”
“So, what is all this?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“The next iteration of our van,” Evan said. “It’s even cooler than it was. See? The TV screen is larger and it now has two laptop connections.”
“I’m sure that makes it cheaper?” I said.
Rachel laughed. “Not cheaper. Just better.”
I looked through the pages of drawings. Impressive. No doubt Rachel knew her business.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think it looks great. I wish we could afford it.”
“Banks,” Evan said. “Think banks.”
I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“See,” Evan said. “I knew he’d come around.”
“I said I’d think about it. That’s all.” I grabbed another handful of popcorn.
“Either way,” Rachel said. “my dad is impressed with your health plan.” She looked at Evan. “Evan’s a good salesman.”
“Don’t tell him that. He’ll be insufferable.”
She laughed. “Probably true.”
“So now both of you are going to gang up on me?” Evan said.
Rachel glanced at her watch. “I have another appointment to get to.” She squared a stack of papers, slid them into a folder, and handed it to Evan as she looked at me. “I’ll leave these here for you to look at.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I promise I will. And I’ll give your proposal some serious thought.”
“Fair enough.” She looked back at Evan. “When you get the contract drawn up for my dad, bring it by and I’ll get it to him.”
“Will do.” Evan stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
I went inside.
“How’d you avoid Evan?” I asked Divya.
“Not avoid, merely delay. I told him I had a few important calls to make.” She smiled. “I suggested popcorn.”
“Good diversion.”
“It worked.”
“You wanted to wait until I got here. So you wouldn’t have to deal with him alone.”
She laughed. “True.”
“Anything new?”
“I saw Oscar and Maria Mendez. They found an assisted-living arrangement. With Jill’s help of course.”
“Maria is okay with that?”