BLIND TRIAL by Brian Deer (best books to read for beginners TXT) 📗

bag resting on the lid of the toilet. It was crammed with socks, shorts, Classic American magazine, and half a dozen cardboard folders. He pulled one labeled “Athens bioreactors” and tapped the voice recorder on his phone.

“Internal to Lee Padma-Nathan, Deputy Director, Manufacturing. Re. the braid-reinforced hose. If we are waving the stick of per diem liquidated damages, Georgia holds that the injury caused by the breach must be impossible to assess, the parties intended to provide for damages, and the sum a reasonable pre-estimate.”

He tapped the recorder, closed the folder, and dug out another from the bag.

Dean S. Wurlitz, VP Veterinary Products

Employment contract. Confidential

Getting folks to move to Georgia was no cakewalk. Wurlitz negotiated a $480,000 basic, the company’s assumption of a $126,000 loan, five $21,000 payments toward his kids’ education, and fifteen thousand stock options at $19.50.

Did Hoffman give a damn? No, he didn’t. He initialed the deal: “THH.”

He shut the folder, crammed it into the duffel, and hunted for a third, but couldn’t find it. Corinna hadn’t packed the Ben Louviere papers. Not that he needed the details. Long ago, Henry’s boy unzipped a program that rebooted Hoffman’s soul.

He climbed from the bath and, forty minutes later, stomped Wilson’s linoleum floor.

“WHERE’S DR. HONDA?” Hoffman opened a window.

“Wouldn’t know,” Wilson grunted. “Don’t care.”

“Snow White and Dopey?”

“Not come in.”

Hoffman yanked out his phone and tapped the icon for the kid. Four rings, then Caucasian rock.

“So?”

“So, mission accomplished. Like I said, she’s cool.”

“Where’d you take her? Classy place, I hope.”

“Living room floor.”

“Where?”

“And a settee, and like an ottoman thing she’s got, and up against the wall in the corridor…”

“The restaurant.”

“And this morning…”

“Ben, the dinner? Where’d you take her to dinner?”

“Stayed home. Bento boxes.”

This wasn’t the story Skeet came back with. Skeet was “certain” they went out.

“So, when you getting over here? Get your ass into gear. Because we’re meeting the old girl here this morning. We’ve arrived in Frisco, and we got here last night. You hear me? We got here last night.”

“Last night? I get it. Dr. Mayr’s here with me now. We’re on Route 101, heading north.”

“You’re what?”

“On 101, heading north, following up on something for Dr. Honda. Protocol compliance stuff. Nothing to worry about, and Dr. Mayr agrees it’s a good move. Heading for a place called Garberville.”

“You’re what?”

“About two hundred miles up the coast. Easy drive. See a lost to follow-up’s sister. Total waste of time if you ask me, but Dr. Honda wanted it. Said it’s what’ll reassure her, she said. Burn up most of the day but, you know, if it makes her happy and keeps her off our ass, the way you said. And I can always go home tomorrow or Sunday.”

The general counsel froze, absorbing the information. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Okay, now, I think I hear you right. I think I heard you say you’re heading someplace.”

“Garberville.”

“That’s Garberville, you say?”

When Hoffman uttered the word, Doctorjee—sitting at Wilson’s round table—stood and covered his ears. Wilson shot forward, scooted to the door, and disappeared into the corridor.

Hoffman shut his eyes: a moment for calm. The best, and only, approach. “Now, Ben, you listen here. And you listen to me careful now.” He dropped his voice by half an octave, and by more than several decibels. “I don’t know what that Honda woman’s got you doing, but what you do now is you turn that car around, and you bring the old girl back here. You hear me? You bring Trudy Mayr back here.”

“I do something wrong?”

“Yes, you did. Yes, you did. But that’s okay now. We all make mistakes, and me more than most. But then what we do is we put them right. Just you listen. However far you are from the next off-ramp, you take that ramp, you turn that crummy Nissan around, and you bring her back here. You got that?”

“Turn around. Sure. Whatever you say. Was just an idea of Dr. Honda’s. We’ll turn around and come back… One minute… Dr. Mayr wants a word.”

“Put her on. But you hear what I say now… Trudy, how’s my favorite babe?”

“Not more hogwash.” She was in a mean mood. “What you want? More tomfoolery?”

“But I want you honey. All to myself. We’ve come all the way out here, after your call yesterday to Marcia’s office about your friend Dr. Murayama. So, we’re here. Now all we need is for you to be here at the same time as we’re here and we’re all fixed up for some really productive work.”

“What do you mean, ‘We’re here’?”

“Doctorjee and myself. And, shortly, your good self also, I hope. That’s how seriously Marcia’s taken what you said.”

“What’s he want here? What’s he doing here?”

“Now I can’t say I’m jumping up and down with all this excitement myself. But Marcia’s told us, if Murayama’s in town, then she wants Dr. Grahacharya, and us all, to take a real good look at the database and make certain the trial can take an audit, if that’s Sanomo’s game. Atlanta’s doing the same at their end.”

“You don’t need me then, if you’ve got that man. You can see for yourself what I found.”

Hoffman crossed the office and lifted a ceramic plate: a souvenir from Santiago, Chile. “Trudy, honey, I’d value your input. You honestly don’t need to be driving halfway to Canada. You’ll be a lot more use to us here.”

“Yes, but if Dr. Honda’s insisting on all this reassurance, then whatever keeps her happy’s my priority. If she wants something from the volunteer’s sister, why not?”

“Her sister?”

“Yes. We agreed the arrangements for data verification Monday, didn’t we? And Marcia’s office told me last night to adhere to the agreed arrangements.”

He returned the plate to its stand. “Situations change. We’re being flexible. Marcia’s instructions now. This is a legal matter, legal imperative.”

“Legal imperative? You people say that about every darn thing. If it’s such a legal imperative, you read the damn files. Doctorjee can explain the long words. I’m telling you, I’m not looking