But the Children Survived (22 page)

“So you were the one who sent them.”

George nodded.  “So, is that what you wanted to ask me?”

Antonio squirmed in his seat.  He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase his question.  What if George himself had a patent on the purple spores?

“Is Wilmer still studying the Mortevida plant?”

“Wilmer
never
studied the Mortevida plant.  I studied it.”  George could feel his blood pressure rising. 

“Then they have no interest in the plants, or patents on them?”

George could see where the little goomba was heading.  He could put him out of his misery and admit there were no patents, or he could play with him a little while longer to see what the kid was up to.

Rising from his chair, Ranier said, “Look Russo, I'm a tired old man who was 'retired,’ let loose from a job I loved, to sit in the desert and rot.  Jacob Wilmer never gave a damn about me or my research.  I made the best damn...” 

George stopped himself from saying more.  He was standing over Antonio and his face was very red.  He stood there trying to compose himself before he gave away his secret.  He didn’t want to endanger his “babies” safely hidden in the garage freezer. 

“Best damn what, sir?”  Antonio had been hanging on his every word.

“Nothing.  Best nothing.  That's what it was.  The answer to your question is no, no patents.  Nobody showed any interest in using the plants.  Truth is no drug company is interested in curing or saving anything.  That would put them out of business.  So, whatever you want to do with the Mortevida, go and do.  No one at Wilmer's gives a damn.”  George walked back to the recliner.  He sat down and sighed deeply. 

“What about you, George?  Would you allow me to have the Mortevida spores free and clear?  How do I know you won’t sue me for them later on?”

“Anything I did was under Wilmer's banner.  I can't lay claim to the research.  It all belonged to them.”  There was bitterness in George's voice. 

“I’m sorry they treated you with such disrespect, George.  You seem like a nice man.”  Antonio paused and looked around the sad, dreary living room.  “Well, thank you, George.  I am most appreciative of your help.” 

Antonio rose from his seat.  He walked over to George and put out his hand.  “I wish you well, Mr. Ranier.” 

George took his hand and shook it.  He even managed a small smile for Antonio. 

“Son, you make your drug, but you protect it.  They’ll eat you alive if they find out you've got something they want.  I don't think Jacob Wilmer remembers anything about that plant, but that doesn't mean anything.  His father knew everything that went on in that lab.  He knew I brought those plants back and kept them in my lab. 

“Don't be surprised if some lawyer digs up some dummied-up file saying they own the Mortevida, some lawyer that will falsify patents.  Change the name of it if you have to.  I don't believe Maggie would mind you covering your ass.  She was all about helping people.  If that's the only way you can get your drug out there, then lie and keep on lying for the rest of your life.” 

George was holding tight to Antonio's hand.  Antonio pulled it away. 

“I won't say a word, son.  I don't want anything from this but your word that you will give those bastards a black eye.”

Antonio nodded his head.  He asked George for his telephone number is case he had any more questions and George gave it to him. 

Antonio walked to the front door, bowed, and walked out the door leaving George with memories of the rainforest and a pretty woman who had made him think, if only for a minute, of staying in the jungle forever.

Chapter 27

All the way back to New Jersey, Antonio thought about what George Ranier had said.  He hadn't thought about Matthew Wilmer.  He hadn't thought about written research from the New Mexico labs.  He had searched the computer for any mention of the Mortevida spores and found nothing.  What if there were files from the fifties mentioning George's research locked up in Freehold? 

Antonio was going to have to ask Paul Christopher if he could get him into the warehouse on a weekend so he could search those files to see if there was any mention of the Mortevida spores or the research regarding them.  Only when he had checked those files would he truly feel free to begin his work on a miscarriage drug.

He also thought about George's suggestion of changing the plant’s name.  Had Maggie ever filed for the patent on her discovery?  Antonio didn’t know how to find out this information.  He was growing tired of all the loose ends he had to deal with in order to create his miracle drug.  He was a scientist, a researcher; why did he have to deal with all this?  It was time to find someone to help him, someone professional who could give him advice.

When Antonio returned home, Teresa greeted him at the door with a big smile on her face.

“I found him!  I found him Antonio and he’s perfect!”

Antonio was looking at her as though she had gone mad.

“The father for Chloe's puppies!”

“Ah, the dog daddy.  Yes, I remember.  Where did you find him?”

“The vet said she knew someone with a combo like Chloe and she contacted them.  They told her about Rocky, the daddy dog.  She gave me Rocky's parent's phone number and I called them.  They agreed to have the dogs meet.  I’m going there this weekend.  Would you like to come?”

“Not this weekend.  I have to work to make up the time I missed.  It breaks my heart to miss it, but what can I do?” 

Teresa rolled her eyes at Antonio.

“You could be a little more convincing, you know.  But I understand that work comes first.  I just finished my finals and I’m off until September.  That gives me the summer to have the puppies and raise them until they can be sold.  How was your trip?  Did you find what you were looking for?”

Antonio told her about George and what he said about ownership of the spores.  She agreed that Antonio needed an attorney.  She told Antonio she would talk to her father in the morning and see if he knew anyone. 

“No, Teresa, don't ask your papa.”

“But why?”  Teresa looked perplexed.

“Your papa has ties to Wilmer and March.  If they ever find out what I’m up to, they’ll ask him.  It's not for lack of trust, Teresa, but to protect him.  It’s better if he truly knows nothing.”

Teresa could see the logic in Antonio's words.  It would be better if her father could be truthful if asked about Antonio's research.  Antonio was glad she didn’t press further because, in truth, he didn’t trust her father and his connection to Wilmer and March. 

Antonio tried to think of someone he could trust to ask for the name of an attorney.  Everyone he knew in the States worked for Wilmer and March.  When he came up with no one, he reached for the Yellow Pages. 

He flipped through the splashy ads and looked instead for the small ads featuring a name and phone number.  There were hundreds of them and Antonio finally closed his eyes and just pushed his finger down on the page.  When he opened his eyes he looked at the name his finger landed on.  It was Stephen McKenzie, Esq.  He wrote the name and number in a notebook he had purchased on the way home.   He was going to document everything he did from now on. 

The next morning Antonio called Mr. McKenzie before he left for work.  The secretary who answered said that Mr. McKenzie could see him on Friday afternoon at 3 p.m.  Antonio jotted the time and date in his notebook and went to work. 

It was very hard to concentrate on the migraine research he had to review.  He was anxious about all he was planning to do.  Could he pull this off?  Could he make a drug that would save millions of babies?

During his break, he went to see Paul in the warehouse.  He asked if Paul could get him into the Freehold warehouse over the weekend.

“Jeez, Antonio, I don't know.  The Yankees have a home game this weekend.  My friend's got tickets.”  Paul shrugged his shoulders.

“Could you just let me in?  You can go to the game and come back for me later.”

Paul laughed. “The game’s in New York, Antonio.  I won’t be back till late at night.”  Besides, Paul thought, if the little guy screwed something up then it would be Paul's ass on the line.  He seemed okay, but you never knew. 

“I don't think so, Antonio.  I like you and all, but it's my job, you see?” 

“What if you made me a key?  How would they know?”

Paul thought about this.  There were three keys, and generally they weren’t locked up because they were in the office and the office was pretty secure.  Anybody could take one. 

Paul put his finger up and left Antonio standing in the parking lot.  He went inside the warehouse and came back out a few minutes later.  He walked over to Antonio and put his out his hand.  Antonio shook it and Paul put the key in his hand.

“There's this idiot working here, his name is Ben.  If they notice the key gone I’ll blame it on him.  The guys will back me up because he's a real moron.  Just give it back to me on Monday.  Just remember, Antonio, leave it like you found it, understand?” 

“Capice.”

Antonio smiled from ear to ear.  Paul waved and went back into the warehouse.

That evening Antonio told Teresa he was going to the attorney's office on Friday.  He left her to think he was working on Saturday.  He told her he would be in the vault and she wouldn’t be able to communicate with him, but he would be home early, around 3 p.m.  She was so excited about meeting Rocky that she just kissed his cheek and didn’t question him further.

“I'll try to take a picture of him.  I just can't wait to see them together,” she said.

Teresa was cooking dinner.  She looked so happy.  Antonio couldn’t understand how this whole process of creating puppies could bring such joy to Teresa.  He liked animals well enough, but she seemed a little too obsessed with Chloe, a dog with little personality. 

Antonio looked at the dog sleeping in her little bed.  She had a long body, not like a dachshund but more like a small barrel, and her legs were not that long either.  Her head was small with a short snout, a button nose, eyes that bulged a little like a frog, and a tail that curled slightly at an upward angle.  When Chloe was happy, she would shake her head from side to side and go around in a circle as if she had worms. 

Antonio shook his head.  He just couldn't appreciate Chloe's inner beauty.  For Teresa's sake, he hoped that Rocky could.

The week went by so slowly that Antonio's patience was sorely tried.  He was short with his assistants.  He was short with Chloe and yelled at Teresa frequently.  So much was riding on his meeting with the attorney, a man he didn’t know at all.  He could be a complete charlatan, for all Antonio knew.  He might take Antonio's money and rat him out to Jacob Wilmer. 

All week long, Antonio's stomach churned.  Finally, Friday arrived.  He went to work early so he could leave at 2:30.  The attorney's office was in Freehold, so Antonio gave himself plenty of time to get there. 

The office was in an old Victorian home on Main Street.  Antonio took the stairs to the second floor and was greeted by an older woman who had a sweet expression and asked Antonio to take a seat. 

“Mr. McKenzie will be with you shortly.  Can I get you anything?”

Antonio shook his head and thanked her.  He sat down and she resumed her position behind an old oak desk.  There was an electric typewriter off to one side and a large file cabinet farther over.  The woman began typing. 

Antonio looked at the magazines on the table next to him.  Forbes, Newsweek, Time, and Sports Illustrated.  He picked up the Time magazine. 

Just as he was about to read, Mr. McKenzie came out of his office and greeted Antonio.  He was an older man, maybe in his fifties.  He had silver white hair, horn-rimmed glasses, an expensive suit and tie, and wingtip shoes.  He introduced himself and asked Antonio to come into his office. 

Antonio was surprised by Mr. McKenzie's office.  It was a very plain affair, a modest desk, a file cabinet, family pictures on the walls, and a dog sleeping in the corner. 

“That's Chester.  He's a German Shorthaired Pointer.  Had him since he was a pup.  Now he’s 10 and lazy.  Hope you don't mind him.” 

Antonio said no and they sat down, Mr. McKenzie behind the desk and Antonio opposite him in a comfortable wingback chair. 

“So, Mr. Russo, my secretary said you didn’t give her any specifics with regard to this visit.  How can I help you?” 

Mr. McKenzie had a very calm air about him.  His manner put Antonio at ease.  The office surroundings suggested a man who wasn’t interested in showing off his wealth, but rather someone who had a desire to genuinely help his clients, no matter how much money they did or did not have. 

“I have to make sure about confidentiality.”

“Confidentiality between an attorney and his client is sacrosanct.  If I were to violate it, I would lose my license.”

Antonio believed him.  He began to recount all that he had been through, about Maggie, about his trip to New Mexico, and about his plan to search the files on Saturday.  Mr. McKenzie listened attentively.  He took notes on a yellow legal pad and when Antonio finished his story, Mr. McKenzie spoke.

“You were very wise to seek counsel, Mr. Russo.  I’ve done some work for the Wilmer's in the past, and they aren’t the most pleasant people.  They also have a gaggle of lawyers hired just to watch out for people like you.  You say this Mr. Ranier told you that there are no patents on the purple spores.”

“That’s what he said, yes.”

“And you’re not sure if Miss DeMorte had a patent on her plant?”

“No, I never thought to ask her when she was alive.” 

“If you retain me, I’ll do some research through the patent office to see if any patents were ever filed for or granted.  I’ll also look into Mr. Ranier's background.  Tell me, Mr. Russo, have you any idea why James Wilmer gave you the $5,000?”

“No, sir, he just said, ah, he said that he wanted to, ah...”