BLIND TRIAL

by Brian Deer

  “Asked her to live with him, she says. In Nagoya. Working for Sanomo.”

  “Good grief.”

  “And she’s thinking about it, too. Like today. Serious consideration. Probably right this minute.” He retrieved the Doral from where it lay melting the carpet. “But look, we can handle this. Honestly. She hasn’t told him anything, she says. Yet. And she’s doing clinic all day today. I know that for a fact. So, he’s not gonna be sniffing around till this evening.”

  “Give me that.”

  “So then—and this is the good part—when she finishes, I’ll be back from Garberville. See? And I can drop off the info from the Glinski sister, and I guess Dr. Honda will want to talk and be sociable and everything. Bound to.”

  Doc Mayr rubbed the Doral’s filter against her dress. “It’s plain enough to me what you’re up to, and it’s that kind of thing that leads to serious indiscretion. I’ve seen this before.”

  “With respect, ma’am, I think that’s a little unfair. I’m making quite a sacrifice here. I was busy with a special project for Dr. Crampton, and I definitely didn’t want to come all the way to San Francisco. I’m actually making quite a sacrifice here to try and avoid any embarrassments.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. It’s true.”

  She paused. She was thinking. The room stank of smoke.

  “Mmm. Well. You have a point, I suppose.”

  “Thank you. Thanks a lot. I’m doing my best here, honestly.”

  “Mmm. I see. Yes. I apologize then, I suppose.”

  “Don’t worry, really. It’s all under control. Everything’s cool. But only if I’m here. See? If I go back today, she’s gonna be free as a bird after work, meet up with Murayama, maybe accept his proposition. Says he’s got a really cool house in Nagoya. And maybe she’ll tell him about all the forms and Doctorjee stuff you found.”

  The vaccine chief’s mouth opened, as if she intended to speak. Then it closed. She was thinking he was right. True, she could talk with the sister on the phone. True, from the conversation he’d had with the sister, she probably couldn’t find the death certificate. But if he wasn’t around tonight—right here in San Fran—they’d be giving the Sanomo guy a clear run.

  She tossed the cigarette into the bathroom sink. “In that case, you can drive me to this sister myself. Can’t be worse than Frank’s damned database.”

  Thirty-four

  THEODORE HOFFMAN stirred his legs and a cloud of bath oil creamed around his knees like the juice of the succulence tree. He scooped up a palmful of Keri Shower and Bath Moisture and massaged its fruity fragrance under his chin.

  If Armageddon was averted, he’d fly to Colorado for a weekend with Jesse, his youngest. He could snag the boy, say, Rollerblades on Amazon this morning and have them delivered to the hospital this afternoon.

  San Francisco to Denver. DC for Monday. Atlanta Monday night. Polish the Firebird.

  The situation at Wilson’s center was getting damn serious. But the Jap was dealt with, which might head it off. And after Skeet’s report that Ben had taken Dr. Honda out to dinner, there were still grounds to hope for better things.

  He toweled his fingers and reached for a duffel bag resting on the lid of the toilet. It was crammed with socks, shorts, Classic American magazine, and half a dozen cardboard folders. He pulled one labeled “Athens bioreactors” and tapped the voice recorder on his phone.

  “Internal to Lee Padma-Nathan, Deputy Director, Manufacturing. Re. the braid-reinforced hose. If we are waving the stick of per diem liquidated damages, Georgia holds that the injury caused by the breach must be impossible to assess, the parties intended to provide for damages, and the sum a reasonable pre-estimate.”

  He tapped the recorder, closed the folder, and dug out another from the bag.

  Dean S. Wurlitz, VP Veterinary Products

  Employment contract. Confidential

  Getting folks to move to Georgia was no cakewalk. Wurlitz negotiated a $480,000 basic, the company’s assumption of a $126,000 loan, five $21,000 payments toward his kids’ education, and fifteen thousand stock options at $19.50.

  Did Hoffman give a damn? No, he didn’t. He initialed the deal: “THH.”

  He shut the folder, crammed it into the duffel, and hunted for a third, but couldn’t find it. Corinna hadn’t packed the Ben Louviere papers. Not that he needed the details. Long ago, Henry’s boy unzipped a program that rebooted Hoffman’s soul.

  He climbed from the bath and, forty minutes later, stomped Wilson’s linoleum floor.

  “WHERE’S DR. HONDA?” Hoffman opened a window.

  “Wouldn’t know,” Wilson grunted. “Don’t care.”

  “Snow White and Dopey?”

  “Not come in.”

  Hoffman yanked out his phone and tapped the icon for the kid. Four rings, then Caucasian rock.

  “So?”

  “So, mission accomplished. Like I said, she’s cool.”

  “Where’d you take her? Classy place, I hope.”

  “Living room floor.”

  “Where?”

  “And a settee, and like an ottoman thing she’s got, and up against the wall in the corridor…”

  “The restaurant.”

  “And this morning…”

  “Ben, the dinner? Where’d you take her to dinner?”

  “Stayed home. Bento boxes.”

  This wasn’t the story Skeet came back with. Skeet was “certain” they went out.

  “So, when you getting over here? Get your ass into gear. Because we’re meeting the old girl here this morning. We’ve arrived in Frisco, and we got here last night. You hear me? We got here last night.”

  “Last night? I get it. Dr. Mayr’s here with me now. We’re on Route 101, heading north.”

  “You’re what?”

  “On 101, heading north, following up on something for Dr. Honda. Protocol compliance stuff. Nothing to worry about, and Dr. Mayr agrees it’s a good move. Heading for a place called Garberville.”

  “You’re what?”

  “About two hundred miles up the coast. Easy drive. See a lost to follow-up’s sister. Total waste of time if you ask me, but Dr. Honda wanted it. Said it’s what’ll reassure her, she said. Burn up most of the day but, you know, if it makes her happy and keeps her off our ass, the way you said. And I can always go home tomorrow or Sunday.”

  The general counsel froze, absorbing the information. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Okay, now, I think I hear you right. I think I heard you say you’re heading someplace.”

  “Garberville.”

  “That’s Garberville, you say?”

  When Hoffman uttered the word, Doctorjee—sitting at Wilson’s round table—stood and covered his ears. Wilson shot forward, scooted to the door, and disappeared into the corridor.

  Hoffman shut his eyes: a moment for calm. The best, and only, approach. “Now, Ben, you listen here. And you listen to me careful now.” He dropped his voice by half an octave, and by more than several decibels. “I don’t know what that Honda woman’s got you doing, but what you do now is you turn that car around, and you bring the old girl back here. You hear me? You bring Trudy Mayr back here.”

  “I do something wrong?”

  “Yes, you did. Yes, you did. But that’s okay now. We all make mistakes, and me more than most. But then what we do is we put them right. Just you listen. However far you are from the next off-ramp, you take that ramp, you turn that crummy Nissan around, and you bring her back here. You got that?”

  “Turn around. Sure. Whatever you say. Was just an idea of Dr. Honda’s. We’ll turn around and come back… One minute… Dr. Mayr wants a word.”

  “Put her on. But you hear what I say now… Trudy, how’s my favorite babe?”

  “Not more hogwash.” She was in a mean mood. “What you want? More tomfoolery?”

  “But I want you honey. All to myself. We’ve come all the way ou
t here, after your call yesterday to Marcia’s office about your friend Dr. Murayama. So, we’re here. Now all we need is for you to be here at the same time as we’re here and we’re all fixed up for some really productive work.”

  “What do you mean, ‘We’re here’?”

  “Doctorjee and myself. And, shortly, your good self also, I hope. That’s how seriously Marcia’s taken what you said.”

  “What’s he want here? What’s he doing here?”

  “Now I can’t say I’m jumping up and down with all this excitement myself. But Marcia’s told us, if Murayama’s in town, then she wants Dr. Grahacharya, and us all, to take a real good look at the database and make certain the trial can take an audit, if that’s Sanomo’s game. Atlanta’s doing the same at their end.”

  “You don’t need me then, if you’ve got that man. You can see for yourself what I found.”

  Hoffman crossed the office and lifted a ceramic plate: a souvenir from Santiago, Chile. “Trudy, honey, I’d value your input. You honestly don’t need to be driving halfway to Canada. You’ll be a lot more use to us here.”

  “Yes, but if Dr. Honda’s insisting on all this reassurance, then whatever keeps her happy’s my priority. If she wants something from the volunteer’s sister, why not?”

  “Her sister?”

  “Yes. We agreed the arrangements for data verification Monday, didn’t we? And Marcia’s office told me last night to adhere to the agreed arrangements.”

  He returned the plate to its stand. “Situations change. We’re being flexible. Marcia’s instructions now. This is a legal matter, legal imperative.”

  “Legal imperative? You people say that about every darn thing. If it’s such a legal imperative, you read the damn files. Doctorjee can explain the long words. I’m telling you, I’m not looking at another clinical trial database as long as I live.”

  Hoffman tried to sit on the table, but it tilted under his weight. “Okay, okay. You got yourself a deal. But please come back. Until you contacted this person, she probably forgot she ever had a sister.”

  “What nonsense.”

  “You know what folks are like when you get five minutes north of the Golden Gate. Nuts as a breakfast bar. And bear in mind this sister you’re talking about here may someday connect her sister with a company she sees an economic interest in suing back to the scrap value of Marcia’s favorite chair.”

  “What nonsense. Sue over what? You people are always coming out with that drivel. Can’t buy a box of rats these days without an affidavit saying they got no fleas.”

  “Rightly so. And have you any idea how many suits we’re getting? Two a week. Every week. Most over that InderoMab shit. Pardon me, product.”

  “I never worked on that.”

  “What we don’t need now is some trying-it-on plaintiff coming up with something on discovery about how we were nosing around out here before the vaccine was even licensed. That has the smell of prior knowledge. And prior knowledge, Trudy, can mean punitive damages.”

  “Talk such nonsense. Prior knowledge of what?”

  “Anything. Hostage to fortune. Could be anything in the next thirty years.”

  “Ridiculous. Ben tells me none of the people he’s spoken with have raised any issues. All there is for us to worry about are those SPIRE forms.”

  Time to recalibrate volume and angle. “Trudy, sweetheart, even so. Please come back to the hospital. Please. I’ve a file in my bag on the addendum to your retirement package. We can tidy up the details over lunch.”

  The old girl winced as if she’d shifted in her seat. “I’m telling you, if I come back, I’m not looking one more time—not one more time—at that godforsaken database. And that’s a certain fact.”

  “Sure. Fine. That’s okay by me. Doctorjee and Frank can look at it. You and me, we can talk about your package. I can tell you we may have found a tad more flexibility on the company’s side. But I gotta tell Marcia we had this meeting.”

  “And she’s ignoring me.”

  “No, she’s not. She’s only very busy.”

  Now a long pause and sounds of the road. “Alright. Very well.”

  “That’s why we’re here to help. Flew in late last night. Good. Okay. Doctorjee wants to speak with you.”

  He passed his phone to the executive vice president, who was leaning across the table, sweating.

  “Ahh, good morning Doctor Mayr. Now what is all this, in fact? Ms. Gelding is most perplexed.”

  “So nice to speak with you again.”

  “Now, Trudy, this is the second time in a week Ms. Gelding has been troubled over this issue. She is extremely busy at this juncture, with the announcement on Monday, as you would imagine, and is now somewhat agitated.”

  “She needs to know.”

  “Perhaps. But we do have clear lines of accountability to avoid situations like this developing. And once again they have been most unfortunately circumlocuted.”

  “If Murayama’s involved, she needs to know.”

  “Ahh, yes, but I should remind you that you report to me in the first instance. So, I would be most grateful if you will attend the meeting here as per Mr. Hoffman’s advice. We will anticipate your imminent return.”

  Thirty-five

  BEN SET the cruise control to 60 mph and the gap began to close on a cream Winnebago towing a twelve-foot speedboat at fifty. He glanced in the rearview, signaled left, drifted out, and passed without touching the gas. As the RV fell behind, he checked the mirror again, signaled right, and returned to the slow lane.

  “Look, I’m an old woman and I wouldn’t be going this speed with a mattress on the roof.”

  “Guess I’m pretty cautious, what with it being a new car and everything.”

  “Ben, it’s a rented car.”

  He let the speedometer rise by 10 mph and scanned local radio stations. Then he gazed through his Maui Jims as the landscape opened up between Novarto and Santa Rosa. He saw oak-dotted hills, and housing developments that might have been thrown up valleys from a bucket. He saw the Northwestern Pacific Railroad barrel beside the freeway as it skirted the Mendocino mountain range.

  “Honestly, ma’am, I think we should turn back. Mr. Hoffman was pretty definite about that.”

  “Now you look here, this is my investigation we’re talking about here. So, I’ll decide what we do, thank you. Not Theodore Hoffman, and certainly not Viraj Grahacharya. Marcia Gelding said adhere to the agreed arrangements. And the agreed arrangements are to satisfy Dr. Honda.”

  “You bet.”

  She cranked back her seat and adjusted a pair of pillows that she’d borrowed from her room at the Hyatt. Then she stared at the sky until her eyelids drooped and, minutes later, Ben heard soft snores. A gob of spit gathered near the corner of her lips. A pack of Dorals rested in her lap.

  Asleep beside him, she looked so harmless: the sex doll was fully deflated. But he couldn’t help thinking about this lady’s motives. She’d been happy with his plan to split Sumiko from the Jap. She was another sneaky chiseler, like the rest.

  As they passed the exits for Santa Rosa, his phone vibrated. Hoffman sounded madder than last time. “You listen to me now. If you do nothing else in this sorry life, you do not take the old girl to Garberville.”

  “No problem,” Ben whispered. “No sweat. Got it covered. Everything’s screwed down. Trust me.”

  “In case you’re missing this, I don’t care if that car turns around, breaks down, or explodes in a ball of fire. You do not take her to Garberville. Understand?”

  “Sure. I got it. No problem.”

  Now the landscape evolved into vineyard country, the Alexander Valley, and Russian River.

  They wouldn’t go to Garberville. He could square this circle.

  But first he’d call Sumiko.

  SHE WAS surfing local news when Ardelia transferred his call.

  “Hello Ben. Look, I’m worried. Hiroshi’s disappeared.” />
  “How d’you mean, ‘disappeared’?” He spoke so softly she could barely hear him. “Left town, you mean? Checked out, or what?”

  She stepped round her desk and closed her office door. “No, he hasn’t. That’s the weird thing about it. I called his hotel this morning, and they’re actually acting very peculiar.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, the clerk made some comment about how the night staff said Hiroshi went out and didn’t come back. And then when I called the duty manager, he said it wasn’t the hotel’s policy to comment on such matters.”

  “What matters?”

  “That’s the peculiar thing. He wouldn’t say. He kept beating around the bushes. Now look, where did you say you parked your car last night? You don’t think he came up and saw your car, and put two and two together?”

  “No way,” he whispered. “Three blocks down the hill, on a side street, round the corner. You tried his cell?”

  “Of course. About ten times. All I get’s that ‘denwa bangou’ thing he does. Can you speak up?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he’ll surface. Maybe he’s got a secret lover.”

  “What do you mean, a secret mother?”

  “Lover.”

  “Don’t be insane. And can you speak up? So where are you now? Did you go? Are you going?”

  “Good question.” Still whispering. “And am I in the shit? Doc Mayr here’s saying we’re going to Garberville, and she’ll get out and walk if she has to. And Mr. Hoffman’s saying we’re definitely not going, and how I’m to turn the car round, no matter what.”

  “So, what are you doing?”

  “Working something out to keep everyone happy. As always.”

  “I don’t know why you’re even going in the first place. And I can’t see why she’d want to go at all.”

  “Yeah, I know. She’s asleep. What I was thinking was, if I went about halfway and then turned round, then by the time we made it back into the city and got her to some meeting they want to have, it’ll be the middle of the afternoon. So, I’ll probably have to stay till tomorrow, whatever happens.”