Chapter 6 - The Signature
Jonathan stared at his mother as though she had become a stranger.
“My signature?”
Evelyn nodded.
“On a document approving an expansion of Project Meridian.”
“That's impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
“Then why didn't you ask me?”
She covered her mouth.
“Because Richard told me you had authorized it.”
Jonathan stepped backward.
“He said what?”
“He said you were protecting a sensitive research program.”
“He said Rebecca had misunderstood the purpose of the trial.”
Mercer interrupted.
“Mrs. Whitmore, where is the folder now?”
Evelyn looked toward the ceiling.
“There is a small locked compartment behind the bookshelf in the west guest room.”
Jonathan frowned.
“Rebecca's old room?”
“Yes.”
“Why there?”
Evelyn's eyes filled.
“Because I couldn't bring myself to throw away the last thing she gave me.”
Ten minutes later, officers escorted the group upstairs.
The west guest room had remained almost untouched.
Evelyn insisted that it be kept closed after Rebecca's funeral.
Jonathan had avoided the room.
Celeste rarely mentioned it.
The bed was covered with a pale quilt.
A framed photograph sat on the dresser.
Rebecca stood barefoot on a beach, laughing into the wind.
Jonathan stopped at the doorway.
For a moment, he was no longer a billionaire standing in a mansion full of police officers.
He was a thirty-eight-year-old husband remembering the woman he had failed to call back.
Evelyn pointed toward the bookshelf.
“Third shelf.”
Maria removed several old novels.
A narrow brass keyhole appeared.
Evelyn reached beneath the pearl necklace around her throat.
She removed a tiny key.
Jonathan stared at it.
“You've carried that for seven years?”
She nodded.
“It was hers.”
He carefully opened the compartment.
Inside lay a red leather folder.
Dust had gathered along its edges.
Mercer photographed the compartment before allowing the folder to be removed.
A crime scene technician put on gloves.
Jonathan watched as the first page was unfolded.
PROJECT MERIDIAN.
EXPANDED CLINICAL IMPLEMENTATION AUTHORIZATION.
Beneath the heading were several signatures.
One belonged to the chief medical officer.
One belonged to Richard Vale.
The third appeared to be Jonathan Whitmore's.
He stared.
“That isn't mine.”
Mercer examined the page.
“It looks like it.”
“I know what my signature looks like.”
He pointed toward the bottom.
“I never sign my middle initial that way.”
The technician photographed the document.
Jonathan leaned closer.
“Someone forged it.”
Evelyn covered her face.
“I should have asked you.”
He looked at her.
“Mother.”
“I let them convince me.”
“Mother, look at me.”
She did.
“We're going to find out what happened.”
Mercer turned another page.
The file contained patient identifiers.
Dates.
Medical assessments.
Confidential memoranda.
And dozens of red markings indicating adverse reactions.
Some pages were stamped CLOSED.
Others carried the words ADMINISTRATIVE RECLASSIFICATION.
Maria stood beside the technician.
She recognized the format.
Daniel had worked with similar reports.
Mercer held up another sheet.
“What does this mean?”
It was a summary table.
Twelve patients had been transferred from a Meridian-affiliated program to outside care.
Seven had subsequently died.
Four had received revised diagnoses.
One patient had disappeared from the final registry altogether.
Jonathan leaned against the wall.
“Who authorized this?”
The technician turned the page.
Richard Vale's signature appeared again.
Then Evelyn saw a handwritten note.
“Wait.”
Mercer leaned closer.
In the margin, someone had written:
These patients were never properly informed.
Below it was a second sentence.
If the board refuses to act, I will go outside the hospital.
The initials were R.S.
Rebecca Shaw.
Jonathan touched the edge of the plastic evidence sleeve.
“She knew.”
Maria swallowed.
“Daniel must have found the same thing.”
Mercer nodded.
“Possibly.”
The detective examined another page.
Then her expression changed.
“What is this?”
A photograph had been tucked between two reports.
It showed three people standing outside a laboratory building.
Rebecca Shaw.
Dr. Adrian Bell.
And a younger Celeste.
Jonathan stared at the picture.
He had never seen it before.
Celeste wore a white laboratory coat.
A badge was clipped to her lapel.
Jonathan leaned closer.
“Celeste told me she worked in pharmaceutical marketing.”
Mercer examined the badge.
The text was partially obscured.
But the company logo was clear.
MERIDIAN BIOMEDICAL.
Maria whispered, “She worked there?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“I had no idea.”
Evelyn began to breathe faster.
Maria steadied her wheelchair.
“Mrs. Whitmore?”
Evelyn pointed at Celeste's face.
“I remember that woman.”
Jonathan turned.
“What?”
“Before Rebecca died, she came to the hospital with a group of researchers.”
“Mother, you knew Celeste.”
“I knew her as Rebecca's friend.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I didn't know she worked on Meridian.”
Mercer carefully returned the photograph to its sleeve.
“There's a good chance this wasn't a simple cover-up.”
Jonathan watched her.
“What do you mean?”
“The people involved may have created the fraudulent program, altered the medical records, and then concealed the consequences.”
Maria looked toward Rebecca's photograph.
“And killed anyone who found out.”
Nobody answered.
A police officer entered the room.
“Detective, we got a preliminary laboratory result from the cake.”
Mercer turned.
“What does it show?”
“The tested frosting sample contains a toxic substance.”
Jonathan felt a wave of nausea.
“Would it have killed her?”
The officer hesitated.
“The medical examiner says a vulnerable patient could have been at serious risk.”
Maria covered her mouth.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Celeste really had tried to poison the cake.
Mercer's radio crackled.
A second officer spoke from downstairs.
“We've got a visitor at the front gate.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Adrian Bell.”
Everyone froze.
“He's asking to surrender.”
Jonathan started toward the door.
Mercer stopped him.
“Stay here.”
The radio crackled again.
“Detective, he says he'll explain everything.”
Mercer replied, “Bring him inside.”
Another burst of static.
Then the officer said something that made her stop.
“He has a condition.”
“What condition?”
The answer came through the speaker.
“He says he will only speak if Maria Alvarez is present.”
Maria stared at the radio.
“Me?”
The officer continued.
“He says he has something Daniel left behind.”
Jonathan looked toward her.
May you like
The officer's voice became strained.
“And he says Celeste Whitmore isn't the person who ordered Daniel's death.”
