41.
OFFICE OF THE CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER
520 FIRST AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY
MARCH 25, 2011, 12:32 P.M.
Laurie Montgomery had been sitting in her office at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner catching up with an old friend, Detective Captain Lou Soldano, when the phone rang. She saw it was her boss, apologized, and took the call. She was soon rolling her eyes, and Lou smiled.
Laurie Montgomery had been back at the OCME for eleven months, since the harrowing events of the infamous Satoshi Machita case, involving both the New York mob and the Japanese Yakuza, which led to the kidnapping of her infant son, John Junior. The story had been plastered all over the media for several days as the details of the case unfolded. After JJ’s rescue, Laurie had come back to work but only after she had found a live-in nanny, Paula, who immediately proved to be a godsend. With Paula looking after JJ, Laurie felt secure. Right now, her husband and fellow ME, Jack Stapleton, was working in the same building, and JJ was safe with Paula at the couple’s home on 106th Street. It didn’t hurt that she and her husband had friends like Detective Captain Lou Soldano either. Right after the kidnapping, he’d insisted on a twenty-four-hour security detail for the Stapleton home.
From Laurie’s side of the conversation and from knowing Laurie’s boss, Dr. Harold Bingham, Lou sensed he’d be in for a wait. He took his copy of the New York Post from his briefcase and flipped through it until he saw the story: IVY SPACE GERM DOCS DIE. He quickly reread the first few paragraphs. He had wanted to show the article to Laurie, which was one of the reasons he’d stopped by.
“Sorry, Lou,” Laurie said, hanging up the phone. “That was Bingham.”
“I assumed as much. No problem. Did you see this article?” He held up the paper.
“Yes, but not that one specifically. There was the same story in the Times.”
“Crazy and scary at the same time. It says that two researchers at Columbia contaminated themselves in a lab with some virus grown in the space station or something. The bodies were supposedly brought here to OCME. Is this all true?”
“Most of it. But the contamination agent wasn’t a virus. It was a bacteria called salmonella typhi that causes typhoid fever. Jack did both autopsies yesterday. Very sad. I understand they were stem cell researchers who were making huge strides growing human organs.”
“That’s what I understand,” Lou said. “Anything unique about the autopsies? There were some wild theories about the deaths in the article. Apparently one of the guys was a big-deal researcher who was not particularly liked by his colleagues.”
“Jack didn’t mention anything other than that he was impressed with the pathology. He’d never seen an entire gut in both patients in such bad shape. Typhoid fever isn’t usually so generalized. Anyway that was the case I was just talking to Bingham about. He expects there will be some political fallout. If there’s a press conference scheduled, he wanted to give me a heads-up that he might want me to host it. He knows Jack hates doing it and isn’t the most diplomatic.”
Lou laughed because Jack was one of the most undiplomatic men he knew. “You guys make a good pair because you complement each other.” Changing the subject, he said, “What about a bite of lunch today? Do you have time for a quick one?”
“I’m sorry, Lou, they’re dropping like flies out there.”
Lou laughed again. He was glad the public couldn’t hear the black humor that was often engaged in within the OCME walls.
“I hear you.”
Lou levered his stocky frame out of Laurie’s chair, put his trench coat back on, and made his farewells.
42.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER
NEW YORK CITY
MARCH 25, 2011, 1:18 P.M.
The first time George heard Pia’s theory, he thought she had lost it for sure. She said she believed that Rothman and Yamamoto were murdered using a radioactive agent, polonium-210, that was masked by the salmonella bacteria they had also been given. George had sarcastically asked which James Bond movie she’d gotten that from, but Pia was, as ever, deadly serious.
“George, it’s actually happened before so it’s a copycat crime. Someone was actually murdered in this fashion. Truly. The man’s name was Alexander Litvinenko, a Russian. He was killed in London in 2006. Don’t you remember? It was all over the news.”
“I don’t remember,” George admitted.
Pia waved George over to the desk so he could see several of the newspaper stories she had found online, then she filled him in on the basics of the case.
“Litvinenko was in the KGB, then the FSB, which is what replaced it. He fled Russia and was given political asylum in England. He wrote a couple of books that were critical of the Russian president, Putin. You’d think he would have been super-careful, knowing what he did. He meets these guys, ex-KGB like him, in a London hotel bar for tea. Within hours he’s sick and hospitalized. After several days he’s diagnosed with radiation poisoning, which is later figured out to be polonium-210. He gets progressively worse, since there was not a lot the doctors could do, and dies about three weeks later.”
“Three weeks. That’s a lot longer than Rothman and Yamamoto.”
“Yeah, I know. But polonium’s effects are dose-related. We don’t know how much polonium was used and when Rothman and Yamamoto were poisoned.”
We don’t know if they were poisoned, thought George, but he kept it to himself. Pia was on a roll.
“So the Brits investigate and find out about the bar and the tea, and there was radiation all over the place, especially in the teapot. Ultimately it was proven that he died from deliberate poisoning. They did an autopsy and the pathologists had to wear hazmat suits. Litvinenko’s GI tract was very hot, to use your word. The guy had to be buried in a lead-lined coffin.”
“Okay, I can see why one spy might use something like this to kill another spy, but why use it on doctors? If you want to kill them, why go to all that trouble? Why not just shoot them?”
“That’s the clever part. Whoever did this did not want anyone to know it was an assassination. They wanted it to appear like an accident. The symptoms of radiation poisoning are camouflaged by the salmonella: fever, prostration, delirium, GI symptoms, low white count. Everything’s the same except the hair loss. They were counting on the fact that no one would think to look for this kind of agent because of the typhoid fever diagnosis. Polonium is unique in that it decays by only emitting alpha particles, which would only be detected if someone thought to look specifically for it, but nobody would because the diagnosis of typhoid was so obvious.”
Pia was picking up steam again. It all seemed to fit.
“Nor would the alpha particles make anyone else sick, which obviously has been the case. Alpha particles can only travel about a centimeter, and they can be blocked by as little as a sheet of paper. It’s only if the polonium-210 is breathed in or ingested that it’s dangerous, and then it’s really dangerous, especially in a large dose, which can be rapidly fatal. Even as little as a millionth of a gram can kill you.”
Pia sat back in her seat with a look of triumph on her face. “What do you think, George?”
George was overwhelmed both by the amount of information Pia had thrown at him and by her enthusiasm. Things fit, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Pia was getting ahead of herself. “You have to assume the hair loss had no other cause,” George said. He thought a little more. “But I guess this would explain why the antibiotics didn’t work. Or maybe they were working, but the radiation overpowered them.”
“Exactly,” Pia said. “It is diabolically fiendish. Whoever is involved is smart—probably a doctor or a scientist who knows a lot of medicine.”
George thought about it some more. He started pacing the room.
“I guess it’s possible,” George said. He could see no insurmountable problems with the theory. “So let’s tell the authorities, let them figure it out.”
“No, we can’t. We don??
?t know who did it.”
“I guess you have to assume that the guys who attacked you had something to do with it.”
“No doubt, but this has to be a major conspiracy. You know what this stuff is used for? They use it to make firing mechanisms for nuclear weapons. No one admits to making it, although the major source is supposed to be Russia. I just read about it two minutes ago. So the FSB can just call someone and get it. But how do you get it in New York City? There has to be a lot of people involved. Serious people with access to this material. And I believe those guys when they warned me not to go to the police. I’m not going to the authorities till I have enough proof to go to the media at the same time.”
“The media?”
“I told you, I don’t trust ‘the authorities.’ ” Pia made quote marks in the air with her fingers. “If I give this story to the newspapers, whoever is involved won’t be able to bury it.”
“So what proof do you need?”
Pia turned back to the computer and made another search.
“Okay! Polonium-210 has a half-life of a hundred and thirty-eight days, meaning that it takes a hundred and thirty-eight days for it to lose half of its radioactivity. So if that’s what they used, there has to be some trace around someplace, either in the lab or in the rooms Rothman and Yamamoto occupied in the hospital. Even if someone was very careful giving it to them, there’s bound to be some residue just like there was in London in 2006.”
George joined Pia at the computer, looking over her shoulder. “How is polonium detected?”
“Here it is,” Pia said, pointing at the screen. “Alpha particles can be detected with a Geiger counter. Pretty simple.”
“Where are we going to get a Geiger counter?” George said. “Oh, let’s use mine. It should be in the bottom drawer on your right.”
“Very funny,” Pia said. “Geiger counters are not all that uncommon, especially around a medical center like this. They must have them in Nuclear Medicine. We’ll go over there and see if we can’t borrow one.”
“I couldn’t help notice that you said ‘we,’ ” George said. “So is this a formal invitation?”
“Of course it is,” Pia replied.
“Well, thank you,” George said. Actually there was no way he would have allowed Pia to go over to the hospital without him. He reached out and felt along Pia’s jaw. “Maybe we should get you X-rayed while we’re there. I know a technician who would do it as a favor.”
Pia pushed his hand away. “I don’t want to take the risk.”
“All right, here’s the plan,” George said. “I’ll help you look for a Geiger counter, but first I have to talk to my resident and come up with an excuse for not being around.”
“Fine,” Pia said. “I wouldn’t mind a few minutes of rest. Whatever drug I was given has me feeling sleepy again. I could use a bit of rest while you take care of business. Do you mind if I just lie down here on your bed? Call me when you’re ready.” Pia moved from the desk chair over to the bed and lay down. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She was tired and wired at the same time.
George went over to her and, taking out his pocket light, made her open her eyes. He quickly checked pupillary light reaction. It was normal.
“Jesus, that’s bright,” she complained, turning her head to the side. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m just worried about a concussion,” George said.
“That’s a happy thought,” Pia said.
“It’s something to think about, especially if you’re sleepy.”
“Good point, but I think I’m fine, just tired.”
“I’ll go back to Radiology and make my excuses. I’ll be right back. Wedge the chair under the door handle. Do you have your phone?”
Pia nodded.
“Make sure it’s charged. My charger’s on the desk. And call me if you need me.”
George would have been far happier calling the police or renting a car and driving Pia as far out of the city as he could. But he’d come this far with her. He just had to cover himself, and he’d be clear to stay with her for as long as it took to resolve this thing. They’d get a Geiger counter and find the proof if it existed. Or they wouldn’t find the proof, and Pia would have to drop this theory as she had all the others. Perhaps then she would quit sleuthing.
43.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER
NEW YORK CITY
MARCH 25, 2011, 2:01 P.M.
Pia’s brief sleep was interrupted by George knocking gently on his own door. She woke up with a start and recognized that she was in a room that was not her own. She sat up feeling like she had a hangover. All at once she realized where she was, and the whole previous night’s experience came flooding back. Pia got up from the bed, swayed for a moment, and went to the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s George.” Pia took the chair away from under the door handle. She then hurried into George’s compulsively clean bathroom and checked out her face, wincing when she touched her bruised left jawbone and wincing again when she noticed for the first time that she also had the makings of a good black eye. Reflexively, she closed her uninjured eye to make sure she could see normally. She also examined her cut lip, and then wiped away a bit of blood encrusted in her nostrils. Then she began to fill the sink to wash her face.
“What time is it?” she called through the open door. Her mind was clearing, and the dizziness she’d experienced when first getting off George’s bed had totally disappeared.
“It’s about two, a little after,” said George. “You want something to eat?”
“No! There’s no time. We have to get moving. The longer we wait, the less chance we have of finding anything. As we learned, polonium has a relatively short half-life and you can just wash it off normally, like dirt.”
“So you’re sticking to the polonium idea?” George had half hoped Pia would have cooled to her rather outlandish scenario by the time he got back.
“Absolutely. It fits so well. You agreed it fit, didn’t you?”
“It seems to,” George said. “Provided we can’t think of another reason for the hair loss. But the practicalities seem so daunting. And you’re sure there was hair loss, right?”
“Oh God, yes, George, I’m sure. You saw it yourself.”
George looked at Pia as she emerged from the bathroom. She had an intent expression on her face. It seemed that Pia was pleased with the power of her deductive reasoning, or else with the elegance of the plot to murder her mentor.
“Do you have any idea how hard this must have been to pull off?” she said. “It makes the Kennedy assassination look easy.”
“I think Oswald acted alone.”
“Okay, bad example. This has to be a sizable conspiracy, with a number of people involved. Once we confirm the polonium, I can’t let the authorities spin the story, which they will. I need to make sure my version of the story, which is the truth, gets out.”
“But if there’s proof, the police will protect you.”
“Bullshit. It’s the police I’m most afraid of. Listen, the more I think about it, the more I think it has to have been other researchers or doctors. The science behind it is impressive. I mean, it had to be someone with a medical background who thought all this through. Otherwise, as you said, why not just shoot them?” Pia stopped herself.
“I’m jumping the gun. We’ve got to look for radiation left in the lab. If it’s going to be anyplace, that’s where it will be, I’m sure. We need that Geiger counter. But let’s make a quick detour back to my room. I need to dig out some concealer. The fact that I look like I got run over is going to raise some eyebrows.”
“Let’s make it quick,” George said. “I’ve only managed to wrangle a couple more hours. I have to be back in the Radiology Department for an important lecture at four o’clock.”
Pia and George were able to borrow a Geiger counter from a resident in the department of nuclear medicine with ease. It was an out-of-commissi
on machine awaiting recycling that was actually better at detecting alpha particles than the newer models. With the detector in hand, they hustled over to Rothman’s lab to check for any leftover radiation.
Once at the lab’s outer door they hesitated. “The only person I’d rather not run into is Spaulding,” Pia said. “He’s the only one who might cause us trouble. I never got the impression that any of the other technicians liked me much, but I can’t imagine they would physically stop us.”
“Want me to duck in and ask if he’s around?” George questioned.
“Good idea,” Pia responded.
It took George less than a minute. When he reappeared he said that the secretary told him Arthur Spaulding was taking a late lunch.
“Lucky us,” Pia said. “Let’s do it.”
The pair entered the lab with Pia in the lead. Marsha Langman looked up. Pia said she was just coming by to get some personal items. Marsha shrugged and went back to her work, whatever that was.
Pia made a beeline for the biosafety unit. They quickly donned protective clothing. They were in a hurry and didn’t want to be interrupted. Pia wanted to start in the unit because it was there that Rothman and Yamamoto had spent the entire morning on the fateful day, as well as the day before.
The Geiger counter was a small yellow box about the size of a large flashlight, with a handle on top. Pia held the main instrument in her left hand and ran the sensor, much like a microphone, over the bench surfaces. The machine made a slight crackling sound from background radiation every few seconds. To Pia’s chagrin, they found nothing, even under the hood itself.