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Authors: Phillip Margolin

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Legal, #General, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Fiction

The Associate (6 page)

BOOK: The Associate
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Daniel dialed Geller Pharmaceuticals and was connected to the receptionist in research and development.

“Dr. Kaidanov isn’t in,” she told him.

“When will he be in?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“I’m an attorney at Reed, Briggs, Stephens, Stottlemeyer and Compton, the law firm that represents Geller Pharmaceuticals, and I need to speak with Dr. Kaidanov about a matter of importance to a suit that was brought against your company.”

“I’m supposed to refer all inquiries about Dr. Kaidanov to Dr. Schroeder. May I transfer you to his office?”

“I don’t want to bother Dr. Schroeder. I know how busy he is. I’d rather just speak to Dr. Kaidanov myself.”

“Well, you can’t. He’s not in and he hasn’t been in for more than a week.”

“Is he on vacation?”

“I don’t have that information. You’ll have to talk to Dr. Schroeder. Do you want me to connect you?”

“Uh, no. That’s okay. Thanks.”

Daniel dialed information and discovered that Sergey Kaidanov had an unlisted phone number. He thought for a moment then phoned personnel at Geller Pharmaceuticals.

“I need an address and phone number for Dr. Sergey Kaidanov,” he said to the clerk who answered. “He works in research and development.”

“I can’t give out that information over the phone.”

Daniel was desperate. He had to get to Kaidanov.

“Listen,” he said forcefully, “this is George Fournet in legal. We just received a subpoena for Kaidanov. He’s out of the office and I’ve got to get in touch with him ASAP. If he doesn’t show up for his deposition we’re going to be held in contempt by the judge. I have a messenger waiting to hand-deliver the subpoena, but he’s all dressed up with no place to go.”

“I’m not sure . . .”

“What’s your name?”

“Bea Twiley.”

“Did you get mine, Ms. Twiley; George Fournet? I am the head of the legal department and I don’t waste my time on frivolous calls. Do you want to go to court and explain to United States District Court Judge Ivan Norris why you’re there instead of Dr. Kaidanov?”

 

 

 

EIGHT

 

 

It was a little after three when Daniel found Sergey Kaidanov’s drab, gray bungalow in a run-down neighborhood on the east side of the Willamette. The paint was peeling and the front lawn had not been mowed in a while. It was not the type of home in which Daniel expected to find a research scientist who worked for a prosperous pharmaceutical company.

The weather had turned nasty and there was no one on the street. Daniel parked down the block and watched the house. The shades in the front windows were drawn and the old newspapers lying on the lawn told Daniel that no one was home. He hunched his shoulders to ward off the wind and shivered as he walked up the path to Kaidanov’s front door. After ringing the bell three times, he gave up. Daniel raised the metal flap of the mail slot and peeked inside the house. Mail was scattered across the floor.

Daniel followed a slate path that ran along the side of the bungalow to the back of the house. A low chain-link fence ran around the edge of a small, unkempt yard. Daniel opened the gate and went to the back door. The shades on the kitchen window were drawn. He knocked a few times, then tried the knob. The door opened. Daniel was about to call out Kaidanov’s name when he saw the chaos in the kitchen. Cabinets and drawers were open and their contents littered the floor. Daniel took a slow survey of the room. There was a layer of dust on the counters. The sink was full of dirty dishes. Daniel stepped gingerly over broken glass and shattered plates and opened the refrigerator. He was hit by the sour smell of decay. Greenish-gray mold covered a piece of cheese. Daniel uncapped a bottle of spoiled milk and wrinkled his nose.

A small living room opened off of the kitchen. Except for an expensive stereo that had been ripped out of its cabinet, most of the other furnishings looked secondhand. CDs were strewn around the floor. Daniel saw a lot of classical music and some jazz.

A bookshelf took up one wall, but the books it used to hold had been thrown around the room. Many of the books were about scientific subjects like chemistry and microbiology. Daniel spotted a few popular novels and several books on gambling and mathematics.

The contents of a liquor cabinet were lying among the books and CDs on the hardwood floor. Most of the bottles contained Scotch and many of them were empty. On top of the liquor cabinet was more dust and a framed photograph of a slightly overweight man in his early forties dressed in sports clothes. Standing next to him was an attractive woman in a revealing sundress. They were smiling at the camera. The picture looked like it had been taken in front of a Las Vegas casino.

Daniel turned slowly, taking in the room again. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Kaidanov’s disappearance, the search of his home, and the primate study had to be connected.

A short hall led to the bedroom. Daniel edged into it, half expecting to find a mutilated corpse. Blankets and sheets were heaped on the floor, the mattress of a queen-size bed had been dislodged, drawers in a chest had been pulled out, and shirts, underwear, and socks had been strewn around the room. The doors to a clothes closet were open and it had obviously been searched.

Across the hall was a small office. More books had been pulled out of a bookshelf, but Daniel’s attention was drawn to a monitor on Kaidanov’s desktop. It looked odd sitting where it was supposed to be when everything else in the room had been tossed about. Daniel sat down and turned on the computer. As soon as it booted up, he tried to gain entry, but he needed a password. If Kaidanov had information about his study in the house it would be on his computer, but how could he access it?

Daniel turned off the computer and pulled the CPU tower out from under Kaidanov’s desk. Using the screwdriver on his Swiss army knife, Daniel removed the sheet-metal cover of the computer’s case, popped the cover, and pulled it off. He placed the computer on its side so he could see the motherboard, which held all of its electronics. Next to the motherboard was the hard-drive bay, a rack that held the hard drive in the computer. The hard drive was connected to the motherboard by a ribbon cable and a power cable. Daniel unplugged the cables from their connectors and unscrewed two more screws on the bay. He then flipped the CPU tower upright and took out two more screws on the other side. When all the screws were out Daniel gently slid the hard drive out of its bay. It consisted of a green circuit board encased in heavy black metal and was about the size of a paperback book. Daniel wrapped it in his handkerchief and placed it in his jacket pocket.

Daniel put the CPU tower back together and was sliding it under the desk when he froze at the distinctive sound of a bottle rolling across a wood floor. Daniel remembered that the liquor bottles were in the living room, which meant that he was trapped, because he would have to go through the living room to get out the front or back doors.

A shadow appeared on the corridor wall. Daniel could make out the bill of a baseball cap, but the shadow was too indistinct to tell him much more. He edged the door almost shut. The shadow flowed toward him along the wall. Daniel held his breath. If the intruder went into the bedroom he—Daniel—might be able to slip down the hall. If he went into the office first . . . Daniel opened the large blade on his knife.

Through the narrow gap in the door Daniel saw a figure in jeans and a leather jacket stop between the two rooms, facing away from him. The intruder hesitated, then the office door slammed into Daniel with enough force to stun him. Before he could recover, his wrist was bent back and his feet were kicked out from under him. The knife flew from his grasp.

Daniel crashed to the floor and lashed out with a punch that brought a gasp from his attacker. The grip on his arm loosened and he broke it, then struggled to his knees. A knee smashed into his face. Daniel grabbed his attacker’s leg, surged to his feet, and twisted. His assailant went down with Daniel on top, his head pressed against the leather jacket. A blow glanced off Daniel’s ear. He worked himself into a position to punch back, then reared up. As soon as he saw his attacker’s face he checked his punch and gaped in astonishment.

“Kate?”

Kate Ross stared at Daniel. If she was relieved to discover that her foe was not a psychopath, she didn’t show it.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded angrily.

“I could ask you the same question,” Daniel snapped.

“I’m working on a case for Arthur Briggs.”

“If you’re looking for Kaidanov he’s not here.”

Kate hit Daniel in the shoulder, none too gently.

“Get off me.”

Daniel stood up and Kate got to her feet.

“How did you know I was behind the door?” he asked.

“I saw you push it shut.”

“Oh.”

“Did you make this mess?” Kate asked as she surveyed the chaos in the office.

“It was like this when I got here.”

Kate walked into the hall and stared into the bedroom. Then she said, “Let’s get out of here before someone calls 911.”

 

* * *

 

Kate and Daniel agreed to meet downtown at the Starbucks on Pioneer Square, an open, brick-paved block in the center of the city. Daniel parked and found a table next to a window. When Kate walked in he was nursing a cup of coffee and watching a group of teenage boys, oblivious to the cold, playing hacky-sack in the square.

“I got this for you,” Daniel said, pointing to a cup of coffee he’d put at Kate’s place.

“You want to explain the B and E?” Kate asked without looking at Daniel’s peace offering.

“Yeah, right after you explain the assault and battery,” Daniel answered, peeved by Kate’s offhand manner.

“When someone pulls a knife on you it’s called self-defense, not assault.”

Daniel flexed his still aching wrist. “Where did you learn that judo stuff?”

“I was a Portland cop before I went to work for Reed, Briggs.” Daniel’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “I still know the person who’s in charge of burglary. Right now I’m undecided about whether to call him.”

“Why, are you going to turn yourself in? I didn’t hear anyone invite you into Kaidanov’s house.”

“Nice try, but Geller Pharmaceuticals is a Reed, Briggs client. Kurt Schroeder authorized the entry to look for Geller’s property. So, let’s start over. What were you doing at Kaidanov’s house?”

“Did you hear what happened at the deposition in the Geller case?” Daniel asked with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment.

“Dan, everyone in the firm knows about your screwup. It was the main topic of conversation yesterday.”

“Do you know exactly what happened, why I’m in trouble?”

Kate shook her head. “I heard something about a document that you turned over to Aaron Flynn, but I don’t know the details.”

“Are you familiar with the Insufort litigation?”

“Only a little. I told Briggs that I wouldn’t work on it.”

“Why?”

Kate’s tough demeanor cracked for a second. “My sister’s kid was born with birth defects. She and her husband have gone through hell caring for her.”

Kate took a sip of coffee. When she looked up she had regained her composure.

“Do you mind if I give you some background on the case?” Daniel asked.

“Go ahead.”

“Insulin is a protein hormone secreted by the pancreas that helps the body use sugar in the form of glucose. Insulin becomes less effective in metabolizing glucose during pregnancy, which can cause some pregnant women to become diabetic. Insulin resistance during pregnancy must be treated because high sugar levels are toxic to a fetus and can cause birth defects. Geller Pharmaceuticals addressed the problem of insulin resistance during pregnancy by developing thalglitazone, which has the trade name Insufort. Insufort reverses the body’s insulin resistance and prevents diabetes and its complications.”

“But there are problems, right? Birth defects?” Kate said. “And isn’t there a connection between Insufort and the Thalidomide scare from the late 1950s?”

“Yes and no. One tabloid called Insufort the ‘Son of Thalidomide,’ and there is a connection. A drug called troglitazone helped pregnant women solve the insulin resistance problem, but it also may have caused liver failure. Geller’s scientists combined a glitazone with the thalido ring from Thalidomide and created a harmless product that helps pregnant women overcome diabetes during pregnancy.”

“So why are women who take the pill giving birth to deformed babies?”

“It’s either a compliance problem or coincidence.”

Kate looked at him with disgust.

“No, it’s true,” Daniel insisted. “Many of the women who claim that Insufort caused their child’s birth defect probably didn’t take the pill as prescribed. Maybe they took it occasionally or irregularly or only a few times and their glucose rose to dangerous levels.”

“So we’re blaming the victim.”

“Look, Kate, most women give birth to healthy babies, but some women give birth to babies who have problems. Sometimes we know why. Some anticonvulsant drugs cause cleft palate. Babies of older mothers are more prone to have birth defects. Maternal infections can also cause them. Then there’s alcohol, tobacco, and drugs. But the causes of most birth defects are medical mysteries. The difficulty is that Americans have been taught that there is an answer to every problem.” Daniel leaned forward and looked at Kate. “Americans can’t accept the fact that shit happens. You get cancer, so you blame overhead power lines; you run someone over, so you blame your car. Are you familiar with the Bendictin cases?”

Kate shook her head.

“ ‘Morning sickness’ is a problem for many pregnant women. For most it’s unpleasant, but it can be deadly. You’ve heard of Charlotte Brontë?”

“The author of
Jane Eyre
.”

Daniel nodded. “Hyperemesis gravida—‘morning sickness’—killed her. In 1956, the FDA approved Bendictin, which was developed by Merrill Pharmaceuticals as a therapy for women with severe morning sickness. In 1979, the
National Enquirer
announced that Bendictin was the cause of thousands of defects in infants.

BOOK: The Associate
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