Authors: David Lender
“No, but your face said it.”
“You’re either paranoid or very perceptive.”
She watched his face soften. Some of the tension she’d seen earlier seemed to flow out of him. He looked more handsome that way. He had chiseled lips and a firm jawline, and no puffiness in his face that said he ate badly or drank too much. Dani had learned a long time ago to look for those things. That was part of what she’d seen in James: somebody who didn’t overdo it. Now Dani laughed at herself. Why was she noticing this
stranger? Because the man was print-model good-looking and his dark brown eyes were focused on her in a way that said he was interested. At that moment she realized she’d been taking him in for way too long, and that a moment had passed between them without her even intending it.
She felt a swell of something in her chest.
Discomfort or desire?
She looked down at the paper in her lap, then back up into his eyes, which were still observing her. She said, “Maybe a little of both. And a little paranoia isn’t necessarily a bad thing, is it?”
Yes, he was really good-looking.
He nodded. “I see you’re a serious sports fan. Even most guys I know don’t spend that much time on the box scores.”
“Dad was a Yankees fan. We used to score the games together.”
“I’m impressed.”
“You should see me during football season. That’s what really gets me going.”
“Jets or Giants?”
“Are you kidding? Even when they both moved to New Jersey they still called it Giants Stadium.”
“So I gather your dad was a Giants fan, too.”
“You might say that.” She felt herself smirking.
He leaned back, took her in for a moment. “Care to let me in on the private joke?”
“No private joke. It’s just that dad
played
for the Giants.”
His eyes showed a dawning recognition. “Danielle Jackson. As in Ray Jackson?”
“Yes.”
“He had a career game in Super Bowl twenty-one. Got his ring, big time.”
Dani felt a swelling pride. “You got it. What Parcells learned about attacking quarterbacks on defense he applied to his offense. Dad was his secret weapon at left tackle in protecting Simms that season.”
“Well, certainly in that Super Bowl. As I recall, Simms was MVP with some astounding completion record—”
“Twenty-two of twenty-five passes completed, two hundred sixty-eight yards, three touchdown passes. Simms said he never could’ve done it without Dad protecting his blind side.”
“Your dad retired after that game, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He was thirty-three, feeling the aches and pains, but even if he hadn’t been on the decline, he said he could never have topped that win. ‘Nothing like going out when you’re on top,’ he said. He did color commentary for CBS after that.”
“I remember. He was one of the best.” Richard seemed to sense her emotion. His eyes grew sympathetic. “How long ago now since he passed away?”
“Seven years, as of yesterday. And it still hurts.”
Oh, Dad.
She felt her throat go lumpy.
“Sorry.”
“Thanks. He was a great dad.” She looked down into her lap, then back up at Richard. “Mom has a Mass said for him every year on the anniversary of his death. This makes two years in a row I’ve missed it.” A wave of remorse followed.
“You get busy, things like that happen.”
Dani had made up her mind that if she got herself out of this mess she’d never miss Dad’s Mass again. “Yes, but still it depends on where you set your priorities.”
Richard didn’t respond. They rode in silence for a while. Later, he said, “So what are you up to in Washington?”
Dani felt flustered for a moment; she hadn’t prepared anything. “Every year I come down to look at the cherry blossoms, chill out, do some sightseeing. I’ve had a rough few weeks and I need it. What are you up to?”
“Client meetings today and Monday. I figured I’d get out of town and relax for the weekend, too.” He paused a moment, then added as if as an afterthought, “If you’re traveling alone, maybe we can take in a museum together.” She realized she had no idea what her agenda was. And now she wondered just what she expected to accomplish, other than addressing the vague notion that the answers to her situation resided in Washington. When he said, “I’m not being pushy, am I?” she realized she was staring at him, with nothing to say.
She laughed. “No, of course not. I just hadn’t expected you to say anything like that. I’m meeting a girlfriend, but I’ll have lots of free time. Yes, that might be nice.”
“Where are you staying?”
Another dilemma: she hadn’t a clue where she’d be staying. She laughed again. “Some dive I’m sure you’ve never heard of. I travel on the cheap.”
“And light.”
She looked at him, confused.
“You don’t have any luggage with you.”
She felt her face color. “I used to do the youth hostel routine in Europe. Wash out your underwear in the sink every night and hang it up to dry by the morning. You should try it sometime. It’s liberating.”
“No thanks. I grew out of that in college. I stay at the Willard.” He grinned. “It’s got rooms with your own bathroom, your own bed and everything. They even have a restaurant downstairs. So
if you don’t feel like eating peanut butter sandwiches with the other students, I’d be happy to buy you a real dinner.”
Dani thought for a moment it was a bad idea, then shrugged. “Let me call my girlfriend when we get closer to Washington. I don’t think she has anything planned for us this evening. If she doesn’t, I would enjoy that. Thanks.”
He said, “So what do you do, Danielle?”
She felt a flutter of nervousness. She didn’t want to reveal who she was but couldn’t think of anything to say except, “I’m the Chief Operating Officer for a doctor in New York who has an Internet business selling vitamins, wellness and alternative medicine-related products. I also produce and direct documentary films that he finances.”
“Impressive. What are your films about?”
Dani paused for a moment, again not sure what to say. “Health-related issues. My last film was called
The Drugging of Our Children,
about all the crap the pharmaceutical industry crams into our kids today. And you?”
She saw his eyes narrow, as if with recognition. “I’m an investment banker. I run the Healthcare Group for Bank of America.”
Dani felt her jaw tighten, her stomach muscles constrict.
“So I’m the enemy?” he said.
“What makes you say that?”
“Your body language.”
“A ‘suit’ with a sixth sense?”
“Your back arched like a spooked cat. Besides, reading reactions like that is part of my business.”
Dani didn’t know how to respond. She paused, feeling awkward with it. “You say you’re meeting with clients?”
“Yeah. Some are attending the Senate hearings next week. I’m working on a few deals with them, so it’s a good chance to catch them out of the office for meetings where they can focus.”
“Anybody I’ve heard of?”
“Absolutely.” She saw his mirth. “Everybody in the industry knows your film, Dani. You got their attention.” Dani felt her stomach muscles constrict again. Richard said, “Congratulations on winning at Tribeca. There’s a photo of you accepting the award in the
Times.
I didn’t recognize you until you said you did documentaries. And by the way, the cherry blossoms aren’t in bloom for another few weeks.” His gaze was intent on her now. “My most important client is Grover Madsen at Pharma International.”
Dani felt sick.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She should never have told him that much. “Darth Vader,” she said.
“Yeah, I figured that’s what you think of him. Your back just arched again.” Those brown eyes of his were dissecting her, not letting her go. “Relax. A lot of people get off in Philadelphia. You can switch seats then,” he said. “But from what I see on the news, you don’t have anyplace to go. You want to talk about it?”
Dani’s mind went blank with panic, as if he’d disrobed her in public. She realized she was staring at him again, seeing his eyes now neither cold nor warm. When her brain started working again she wondered what Richard would do. Turn her in? Stand up and yell for the conductor? She leaned closer to him. “It isn’t what you think.”
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter what I think. Because apparently the police think you had something to do with the cop’s murder, and maybe even the man who was killed in your office. What was his name?”
“David Maguire. He was a researcher for Pharma International. I was going to interview him for my next documentary.” The image of Maguire running up to her, then being cut down by the man with the gun, overwhelmed her. That awful gun. The same one he’d had in his hand at her apartment. She breathed for a moment.
“You okay?” Richard’s eyes were filled with concern. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
Dani didn’t want to, but he was the first person she’d spoken with about it—other than James—and it mattered to her to defend herself. “I had nothing to do with it,” she said, a little too loudly. “With either murder. I didn’t even know Maguire. I’d never met him. We’d spoken on the phone for weeks while I tried to convince him to do an interview. That’s all.”
She saw him examining her again, as if she were a curiosity he was trying to understand so he could explain her to someone else. He said, “You know that’s not what they said on the news this morning, don’t you?” Dani felt a tingle of anticipation.
“What are you talking about?” She realized she’d raised her voice and instinctively hunched lower in the seat.
“They’re saying you and Maguire were—involved?”
Now she felt a blast of shock. “Involved? You mean lovers?”
“It was breaking news this morning, so it wasn’t in the
Times,
but the information got leaked somehow. I imagine
The Post
will run it. The NYPD is saying ‘no comment,’ but the press is speculating that it was a romance gone bad, and…”
Dani thought her brain would explode. She sucked in a huge gasp of air, closed her eyes.
Unbelievable!
It was just like McCloskey had said. They’d get you any way they could. She felt Richard’s hand on her forearm.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
She shook her head. She took a few more breaths and was relieved to feel her anger rising, giving her strength.
The bastards!
She squinted at Richard and said through clenched teeth, “John McCloskey told me you people would do something like this.”
“You
people?” He pulled his hand away. “Don’t lump me into the category of the people you’re afraid of with your paranoid ramblings.”
“Paranoid ramblings? Do you honestly think I’m capable of having my lover murdered in front of me, and then go back to my apartment and kill a cop?”
“Lady, I just met you less than an hour ago. I have no idea what you’re capable of.”
She moved to put her face within inches of his, gritted her teeth. “Really. So you think you’re sitting next to a psychopathic black widow? One who lures doctors and researchers into interviews for documentaries by screwing them, and then hires professional hit men to shoot them when she’s done with them?”
Richard made the “time out” sign with his hands. “Let’s take this down a peg. I’m not your enemy. I just happen to be a guy who makes his living working for people you don’t like. I have no idea what’s going on with whatever happened to you, and I mean you no harm. You seem like a nice person, and I believe from your work you’re sincere in what you’re trying to do. But you’re sure in a helluva jam right now. And I don’t want to get involved in it.”
Dani realized she was clenching her fists, and relaxed them. She sat back. “I’m sorry I said ‘you people,’ but what you just told me is so bizarre that I can’t come to any other conclusion than that someone’s trying to frame me. And kill me.” She looked Richard in the eye. “After Maguire was murdered yesterday, the
man who shot him came to my apartment, dressed as a cop, and tried to shoot me. I was able to escape. The young cop whose picture I saw on the news, the one who was killed in my apartment, wasn’t the man who tried to kill me. I’ve been turning it over in my mind ever since and the only thing I can think of is that Maguire’s murderer killed him and they’re trying to stick it on me.”
Richard frowned. “Why would someone try to kill you?”
“Why would someone kill David Maguire?”
Dani didn’t answer her own question, but she was sure she knew. She put her hand in her pocket and fingered the USB flash drive. Now more than ever, she needed to figure out what was on it. Richard looked skeptical, even wary of her. Maybe he thought she was some kind of a nut after all. Would he turn her in?
S
TARK HELD THE CELL PHONE
in his hand the whole way from New York to Philadelphia. He couldn’t hear a damn thing on the Bell 407 helicopter. About 20 minutes from New York he saw it ring once, answered, but couldn’t hear what the client was saying. He yelled into the phone that he’d have to call back when he landed. He called the client from the car that was waiting to take him to 30
th
Street Station.
“Yeah?” Stark said.
“You there yet?”
What the fuck.
Did this guy need a blow-by-blow? “Ten minutes away. It’ll be close.”
“Our man on the train says she cut her hair short and—”
“I’ll recognize her. Anything else?”
The client paused. Stark remembered. This wasn’t a guy who was used to people cutting him off. “Only that the only important thing is getting that flash memory drive. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Stark said, trying to sound all friendly and shit.
The train pulled into Philadelphia. Dani and Richard had ridden in silence for the last 15 minutes. She wondered what he was thinking now. Would he get up and move, with seats available
after people got off in Philadelphia? Make a phone call to the police so they could pick her up at the Wilmington, Delaware stop? He hadn’t gotten up yet, so at least Philadelphia wouldn’t be a problem. But she decided it was too risky having him know who she was and not believe her. She had to either get off the train and run or convince Richard she was innocent. That meant telling him about the USB memory drive Maguire had given her, and telling him what she’d found on it, even though she didn’t understand it.
But disclosure involved risks, too. What was it he said about her documentary? Something like, “Everybody in the industry knows your film. You got our attention.” It was natural that he would side with the drug companies, given that he made his living out of providing services to the healthcare industry. And he said Grover Madsen was one of his biggest clients. But he wouldn’t hold the position he had unless he was a smart guy, and any intelligent person had to be aware of the debate about the side effects and damage from pharmaceutical drugs, including vaccines to our children. Sure, most people in the industry were zealots, the biggest of them Grover Madsen, and couldn’t accept any other point of view than that they were saving the world. But Richard might have a more open mind than that. So maybe he could believe that someone who wanted to release information damaging to the industry could be targeted, and that she, as a thorn in the industry’s side, could be as well.
She decided to take a chance. “What would it take to convince you?” she asked.
Richard looked startled. “Of what?”
“First, that I had nothing to do with Maguire’s or the cop’s murders.”
He winced. “We don’t need to get into that again, do we?”
“I think we do. I’ll be honest with you. I’m not switching seats, but I’m concerned that you might, and then phone the police.”
“I have no reason to hurt you. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I won’t do that.”
“And what if someone asks you if you’ve seen me?”
“I’d have to be honest about it.”
“Then that’s why I need to convince you.”
His expression hardened. “I don’t see how you can.”
Dani lowered her voice. “What if I told you that Maguire gave me something? Something whoever his killer was working for didn’t want me to have?”
Richard’s face went blank. She couldn’t read him. “I guess it would depend upon what he gave you.”
“You have your laptop with you, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“How about you fire it up and I show you what I’ve got.” She felt her pulse quicken as he produced his laptop. Maybe he’d be able to make more sense out of the data than James and she had.
Dani handed him the USB flash memory drive. He plugged it in. “There’s only one file.”
“I know. An Excel spreadsheet, and it’s big.” She watched as the spreadsheet loaded, then opened. She searched his face for any reaction.
Nothing.
He scrolled left, right, up, then down.
“It could be anything,” he said, “or nothing. It’s just a bunch of data.”
Dani’s heart sank. “It doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“What was Maguire working on?” Richard asked.
“I don’t know. But you know about my last film,
Drugging,
and you must know that I interviewed John McCloskey, the
KellerDorne whistleblower on Myriad.” Richard nodded. “And the vaccine hearings are in Washington on Monday.”
“And you just won at Tribeca for your film, which gives you instant credibility.” Dani was searching his face again. He seemed to be thinking about it, wondering. He said, “What do you know about statistics?”
“Nothing.”
Richard turned the computer toward her. “See each of these columns? Each one has a number followed by a comma, followed by another number.” He looked at her for a reaction. She felt a prickle of rising excitement. “They look like paired variables in a statistical equation,” he continued. “A linear regression analysis with hundreds, maybe thousands of inputs to test the hypothesis supported by that equation. An equation to establish the first variable’s ability to predict the second variable.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” Dani said.
“It may be that Maguire was trying to establish a causal link between one variable and the other.”
“Or maybe he had established it.” But what?
Stark made it to the 30
th
Street Station and caught the train to Washington with a few minutes to spare. His cell phone rang again.
This fucking guy is unbelievable.
He let it ring about five times because he was stuck behind some grandma who inched her way into the boarding area at the end of the car, dragging a roller suitcase behind her, then turned left into the car itself. He took a right and answered the phone.
“Yeah.”
“Are you on?”
Stark thought to ask the guy if he wanted to know if he had to take a piss, but restrained himself. “Just boarded.” He remembered to play nice. “Any instructions?”
The client paused. “Just get the data. I don’t care what happens to the girl.”
“I do,” Stark said.
“Our man on the train is in the fourth car. He’s wearing a—”
“I work alone.” Stark shut the phone. The last thing he needed was some bozo who thought he knew what he was doing getting in the way. And knowing what Stark looked like so he could ID him later. He’d find the girl himself. He continued forward, rubbing his eyes.
Richard saw Dani’s upturned face, her eyes observing him, the whole image forming a question mark.
What am I supposed to do with all this?
It seemed impossible that this petite woman was a killer. Still, he wasn’t involved in her problems and he wasn’t sure there was any reason for him to get involved. He knew what the therapist he hired six months ago would say. After three onoff-on-off very sexual relationships following his split-up with Kathy, the therapist had finally said to Richard, “Quit thinking with your dick.” So much for therapists using the Socratic method of questioning the client until he came to the right conclusion. He was definitely attracted to Dani; it was, he realized, probably part of why he had even bothered to get drawn into her story. He reminded himself to be careful. He saved the spreadsheet file on his hard drive and handed the USB flash drive back to Dani.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you believe me?” Her eyes were urgent.
“I believe he gave you this flash drive. But I don’t know what for, and I’m not convinced he was killed because of it.”
“But you believe he gave it to me?”
She sat back in her seat and exhaled.
“It matters that much to you?” he said.
“You bet it does. Imagine being in my shoes for the last twenty-four hours. Wouldn’t it matter to you?”
Richard figured he didn’t have to decide what to do about Dani until the train got to Wilmington. That is if he had to decide anything at all. “I have an idea,” he said. He picked up his cell phone, found the number and dialed.
Dani felt a surge of alarm as she saw him dial. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. I’m calling a friend of mine who’s a wiz at statistics.” He waited. He held the phone away from his ear so she could overhear the other end of the conversation.
“Jeff, it’s Richard.”
They exchanged greetings.
“I’ve got a spreadsheet in front of me with a bunch of data and wondered if you could help me out,” Richard said.
“Depends what it is.”
“It’s an Excel spreadsheet with multiple columns of data, each with two values separated by a comma. Any idea how I can figure out what it represents?”
“No formula, no labels as to what the data are?”
“Nope.”
Jeff paused for a moment. “You say two variables each column?”
“Yeah.”
“Multiple columns?”
“Yeah.” Dani saw Richard scroll to the right. “I count ten, maybe, twenty columns, maybe more.”
“Might be the data for a time-sequenced linear regression equation. Testing X versus Y variables against each other over time. It’s one way to do it. The other way is using a non-linear equation.”
“You lost me.”
“Somebody might be testing the same two variables against each other on a monthly or a yearly basis. Seeing what the correlation is, or how it changes based on time.”
“Why would somebody do that?”
“To prove that over time the correlation gets stronger or weaker. But that’s all you got? Just columns with X and Y variables?”
“I’m not even sure they’re X and Y variables.”
“You don’t have any labels down the left saying what they are, or labels across the columns at the top saying when they occur?”
“Nope.”
“Then sounds like you’re shit outta luck, my man. Listen, I gotta go.” Jeff hung up.
Dani saw Richard put his cell phone down. “We need to figure out what these data points represent, and over what time period they’re measured,” he said.
Dani sighed. Then she turned to him again. “You said
we.”
It wasn’t much but he said it.
We.
A small victory.
I’ll take it.
“What do
we
do now?”
“Don’t get cocky.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you. I need your help, but I also need someone to believe in me. This is scarier than you can imagine. And it hurts, knowing my family and friends are seeing me on the news as a potential murderer. You know what I mean?”
They rode in silence again for a few minutes. They passed some rock formations. The wet granite reminded her of Stoddard’s Peak, a 45° granite incline with crevices that were always wet, near Twin Lakes, that she’d climbed many times with Dad. Last fall she climbed it with Gabe for the first time. It had held no pleasure for her after Dad died, until she’d experienced it again with Gabe, the joy for her that he was seeing it. Just thinking about him made her smile. What she’d give to be there with him now, sitting atop Stoddard’s Peak eating sandwiches with him, talking about school, the Yankees. She felt a pleasant warmth in her chest. Dani hadn’t spoken with Gabe since she’d dropped him off at school yesterday morning. She rummaged in the Duane Reade bag for one of the prepaid cell phones. She pulled it out and dialed. Nothing happened. She was staring at it, confused when Richard said, “You need to log on to their website to register those things before they work.” Dani felt a spasm of fear, and must have showed it in her face because Richard added, “Don’t worry. You can put in any name you want. That way you can keep it completely anonymous, which is I assume why you bought it.” She relaxed. He said, “That’s why drug dealers and insider traders use these things. How’d you find out about them?”