Capitol Reflections (41 page)
Karn smiled while Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. The retired couple did not appear to keep abreast of current political events.
“I’m a doctor, Mr. and Mrs. Robinson,” Karn said, “and I’ve been told by a friend of mine, Professor Kucherlapati, that your son was conducting some very interesting experiments. I was wondering if you had any of Jamie’s research tucked away in the attic. Professor Kucherlapati said Jamie was something of a prodigy, and I’d love to look at his work.”
Gwen knew that Karn had not yet talked with Kucherlapati, but he hoped it would help him gain the Robinsons’ confidence.
“Professor K!” said Mrs. Robinson. “The students adored him.”
“We’ve saved everything from Jamie’s room,” confessed Mr. Robinson in a more somber tone. “You’re more than welcome to look at it. Jamie didn’t keep information written down for very long, but he did put it all on an Apple computer. Nothing like the computers today, I suspect. Probably doesn’t even work. It’s been sitting on Jamie’s desk upstairs all these years.”
Gwen looked at Karn.
“May we see it?”
“Of course. Come on up,” Tom Robinson said, standing.
“Excuse the dust and the stuffiness,” said Alice Robinson when she opened the door to Jamie’s room. “I guess we’re guilty, like a lot of parents who’ve lost children, of keeping everything the way it was.”
“That’s perfectly all right,” Gwen said. “I understand completely.”
Karn seated himself at Jamie’s desk after plugging in the old Apple—Gwen couldn’t remember the last time she saw one of these. The machine came to life, but Karn was unable to access any files. The operating system was not only old, but also password-protected. “I don’t suppose we could borrow this for a week or two so that some friends of mine in the computer field might be able to look at Jamie’s data.”
Alice Robinson smiled. “You can borrow it for as long as you need it, Doctor, although I don’t know why the notes Jamie made on all those plants he was growing would be of interest to anyone, especially after all these years.”
“Plants?” said Gwen.
“Yes,” said the deceased student’s father. “We took one from Jamie’s dorm room, in fact, and tried to plant it on Jamie’s grave, but it didn’t do so well. We brought it home and Alice pressed it between two sheets of wax paper and put it in the family Bible.”
“Could I see it?” asked Gwen. “I’m a physician, too. I work at the FDA, and I’m always interested in various kinds of plants.”
Mr. Robinson got the Bible and carefully extracted the flattened plant from the middle of the large book.
“Do you recognize this?” Gwen asked her partner.
Karn shook his head. “Could be anything.”
“We never knew what it was either,” said Mr. Robinson. “You’re welcome to borrow that, too, since it probably goes with whatever’s on Jamie’s computer.”
“Thank goodness we gave all the rest of Jamie’s plants to Henry,” said Mrs. Robinson. “It’s a comfort to think that they’re growing somewhere.”
Gwen’s heart nearly stopped. Jamie Robinson, killed by a truck, had been growing plants that his parents gave to Henry Broome, future senator from Hawaii.
“Thank you both very much,” said Karn. “I promise we’ll take good care of the computer and the plant and return them as soon as possible.”
Out in Rick’s automobile, Gwen turned to Karn. “Do you think that plant could be tobacco?”
Karn rubbed his chin and thought. “It’s little more than a seedling, it’s thirty years old, and it’s not much thicker than a piece of paper. I couldn’t begin to venture a guess.”
“I’m going to bring it to John Van Rankin at the Secret Service and let him have a look at it.”
Karn looked pensive. “My hunch, Gwen, is that the Robinsons’ plant is coffee, not tobacco. I know how you feel on this issue, but Broome probably took Jamie’s plants and started growing them in Hawaii. Why else would Roberta Chang be so interested in bills of lading showing shipments coming from Lanai?”
“Coffee seems the logical answer for the plant,” Gwen conceded reluctantly, “but Van Rankin has already assured me that the coffee bean Mark obtained in Seattle is normal. We’re still missing any connection to seizures. There’s something that doesn’t fit.”
“If Henry’s involved, Gwen,” Karn said, “you can be sure they fit all too well.”
55
The Gulfstream touched down on dry desert near the town of Remedios, which was southeast of Pedregal. If a discernable landing strip lay beneath the jet’s wheels, Mark didn’t notice it as Peter reversed thrust on the engines, bringing the jet to a slow roll.
“How does one hide a jet?” Mark asked.
“The locals will help us.”
“Huh?”
Peter pointed out the cockpit window to the three o’clock position. Two Jeeps were rumbling over the hardpan, kicking up a fine plume of dust behind them. “I radioed ahead and arranged for our transport.”
Mark just nodded his head. He had no idea what to expect anymore.
What came next, however, was impressive, even by a reporter’s standards. Peter, with the help of the two Panamanian drivers from the Jeeps, took a large piece of netting from the Gulfstream’s cargo hold and draped it over the fuselage and wings.
“From the air, the jet will be virtually invisible and appear as part of the desert,” said Peter. “It’s fairly old technology. Even today, some countries have entire false landing fields, complete with dummy planes and painted runways, while the real fields are heavily camouflaged with netting, vegetation, or cloth. It was originally a Cold War tactic. Time to put on our outfits, by the way.”
Minutes later, Peter and Mark stood next to a Jeep, wearing military fatigues and dark glasses. Before leaving the states, Peter had instructed Mark not to shave so that he would have at least a small bit of stubble on his face, and the reporter now had a respectable five o’clock shadow.
They climbed into the Jeep and rumbled off to Pedregal.
56
The adjacent chairs on which Edward Karn and Gwen Maulder sat were not particularly comfortable. They were in John Van Rankin’s office at Quantico, and at this point Gwen knew what Van Rankin’s words would be before he spoke them.
“You want me to analyze a twenty-nine-year-old plant that’s thinner than tissue paper and hardly bigger than my hand?” asked Van Rankin. “You know I want to help you, Gwen, but—” Van Rankin paused and glanced at Karn, whom he obviously respected. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus his thoughts. “You present me with information on seizure patterns and ask me to analyze a coffee bean, of all things—one that repeatedly showed nothing more than the normal constituents of coffee. Now you’re asking me to run this plant through the lab, and I’ll bet you a million bucks that you think it’s coffee.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we believe.”
Van Rankin ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.
“Gwen, you’re a physician employed by the FDA. Do you really think that an everyday, household product like coffee could cause nationwide seizures? Forgetting the basic chemical properties of caffeine for a moment, do you believe that the major coffee companies in America would allow a tainted product to make it to grocery store shelves? Do you really think nobody—not consumers, not doctors, not public health authorities—would notice? The idea is preposterous.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, John, but—”
“Your ecoterrorist reporter friend thinks so.”
The characterization of Mark stopped Gwen cold. “What?”
“The Senate Agriculture Committee decided it would like to question Mr. Stern on ecoterrorism.”
Karn shot Gwen a quick, worried look. “That’s Broome’s committee,” he said.
Gwen nodded, her face clearly reflecting concern. “Mark’s not an ecoterrorist, John.”
Van Rankin shook his head. “Regardless, I told you and Stern when you were here before that I’d reach a point where I’d need more information in order to help you. I’m afraid we’re there.”
Gwen sighed heavily. “Fair enough. Believe me, I appreciate what you’ve done and know how all of this must sound. I’ll give you more information, but I need you to keep it close to the vest.”
Van Rankin forced a smile. “I’ll try, as long as you don’t tell me Al-Qaeda is launching another attack.”
“The cities where seizures are showing up are the very same ones in which Pequod’s opens new stores and engages in aggressive marketing. The timeframes also match up perfectly.”
“You think Pequod’s is behind all this?” Van Rankin’s voice had the distinct timbre of disbelief. “I’m more likely to think that there was a second gun at the Kennedy assassination.”
“I personally don’t think there’s a chance in hell that Pequod’s coffee is causing seizures,” said Gwen. “Mark and I vehemently disagree on that particular point. I do think, however, that the correlation between the location of seizure episodes and Pequod’s’ marketing has a statistically significant relationship that’s yet to be determined.”
Van Rankin looked as though he’d eaten a bad burrito. “If I didn’t owe your husband my life, we wouldn’t be talking, you know. Gwen, you’re not exactly a trained investigator for this kind of crime.”
“You’re right. I’m not a criminal investigator. I’m an epidemiologist with the FDA, and this is what epidemiologists do.”
“Actually, Gwen,” said Van Rankin, his voice softening, “you were an epidemiologist with the FDA. You’ve been placed on administrative leave.”
Gwen’s mouth hung open, blood draining from her face. “How do you know that? Did someone call you?”
“No. I simply made a few discreet calls on my own because of all the cloak-and-dagger associated with your last visit here. That’s what turned up. But don’t worry. I had a friend access your personnel file through a government database. No one can trace you back to me.”
Gwen was silent, too numb to be angry. The government she’d served so well had pulled the rug out from under her. Her reassignment to the AE files by Snyder and McMurphy was one thing, but being relieved of all duties was another. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised given the events of the last three days, but news like this was never easy to digest. She again wished Fitz were alive to help her make sense of the bizarre unfolding events.
“What do you think of all this, Dr. Karn?” asked Van Rankin.
“I think something smells pretty rotten here. Dr. Maulder and Mr. Stern have some outlandish theories and I’m normally as skeptical as you are. However, Gwen’s job at the FDA was to run outlandish theories into the ground. That’s precisely how one protects the public’s health. Instead, the minute she starts investigating, all hell breaks loose and political types come out of the woodwork to quash her.”
It was Van Rankin’s turn to sigh. “Okay. Given the correlations between Pequod’s and seizure patterns, I’d be running down leads, too, if I were in your shoes. I’ve seen too many young agents around here get dumped on for outlandish theories that turned out to be true. A decent supervisor would give them upfield cover.”
Gwen nodded slightly. “Thanks, John. I appreciate that.”
“I’ll run the plant and see if it’s coffee. I’ll also see if it has anything in common with the bean. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good.” Gwen looked deeply into Van Rankin’s eyes. “I appreciate your being a friend here, John.”
Van Rankin smiled. “You’re welcome. And sorry about breaking the news to you about your job the way I did. You deserve better.”
Gwen looked down at the floor. “I’m starting to learn to expect the worst.”
Van Rankin sat up in his chair, which caused Gwen to look up at him again. “In the midst of all this shop talk, you’ll be glad to know that one of my men stationed at George Washington Hospital called a few minutes ago. Jack’s speech is showing definite improvement. I think he’s turned a corner. He can actually communicate a full range of ideas, though it takes him a while, and his articulation still needs some work.”
Gwen smiled for the first time since she’d set foot onto Quantico that morning. That smile faded quickly, though. She missed Jack. Meanwhile, he had no way of knowing where she was or what she was doing. For all he knew, she’d abandoned him in his hour of need.
“I wish I could see him.”
“That’s probably not a good idea right now,” Van Rankin said. “I can get him a message if you’d like.”
“I’ll do it,” Karn said. “No one is going to touch me even if they know what I know. I’m too high-profile, especially right now.”
Gwen nodded. At least Jack would hear that she loved him and wanted to be with him.
Suddenly she brightened. “You know, he might even be able to do a little bedside police work for us.”
57
“The town looks pretty good compared to what I expected,” commented Mark as they drove past the Pedregal Power Company’s thermoelectric plant. Though the town was small, most of the one-and two-story buildings appeared to be fairly modern and clean.
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