The Art of Forgetting (43 page)

              Erin got to her feet, walked around the table and sat next to Lloyd. Lloyd planted a peck on her cheek and without hesitation said, “I call Dr. George Lasko to the stand.”

              “There is no stand,” Lasko said, “I’m sitting right here.”

              “Dr. Lasko, are you familiar with the university’s policy on conflicts of interest as they relate to the office of the Chief of Staff?” Lloyd asked.

              “Of course I do. I had a formal audit of my associations and affiliations when I was elected to the position a couple of months ago.”

              “So you are aware that any conflict of interest, financial or otherwise, would be grounds for your dismissal from that office,” Lloyd said.

              “I thought we were going to discuss my impression of your professional competence,” Lasko said.

              “What is your association with Cardio-Prime Technologies?” Lloyd asked. From the corner of his eye he saw Mr. Murdock pull out a pocket sized agenda and a tiny pencil from the breast pocket of his jacket.

              “I had a long relationship with Cardio-Prime,” Lasko said. “I held some of the early patents on their electrodes which have since been supplanted with newer technology. I served as a vice-president of development, with a few other noted physicians – it’s largely an honorary distinction, you see. Most recently I was on their speaker’s bureau. But I’ve severed all ties with the company.”

              “You had a sizable financial stake in the company as well, didn’t you?” Lloyd asked.

              “I see your new wife has prepped you very well. Let the record reflect that I don’t begrudge her. After all, my financial stake in the company is a matter of public record that I was happy to disclose. But as Miss Kennedy can ascertain, I divested all my holdings in Cardio-Prime Technologies.”

              “Let the record reflect,” Lloyd said, “that my wife’s name is
Doctor
Kennedy, that she holds a Ph.D. in medical ethics and is entitled to the respect which that title confers. And let the record further reflect the fact that she is simply ravishing.” Erin pinched his leg under the table.

              “I’ve got no argument there,” Fisk said nearly smiling.

              “So you have no active relationship and no financial stake in Cardio-Prime Technologies?” Lloyd resumed.

              Lasko turned to the panel with opened hands and a steady smile. “None at all.”

              “And when did you first find out that Cardio-Prime was going to acquire DynaStim Therapeutics?” Lloyd asked.

              Lasko looked like someone had just socked him in the gut. “I’m sorry?”

              “When… did you… find out about the acquisition?”

              “I assure you, this has absolutely no relevance to the matter at hand,” Lasko said alternating eye contact with each of the judicial panel’s members.

              “Once that cat’s out of the bag, sure is tough to get her back in, ain’t it?” Fisk said.

              “I object to this line of questioning,” Lasko said.

              “Dr. Copeland,” Feynman said, “where are you going with this?”

              “I’m about to show how Dr. Lasko tried to block my research as a result of a financial conflict of interest,” Lloyd said.

              “I thought Dr. Bender sabotaged your research,” Townshend said.

              “He did. But it wasn’t enough to simply poison my mice. He had to orchestrate everything to make sure my research would never have a chance to resurrect. In Dr. Lasko he found a silent partner, someone who would unwittingly aid him, driven by his own motivations.”

              “And what are Dr. Lasko’s motivations?” Dr. Townshend asked.

              “Power and greed,” Lloyd said.

              “He’s delusional,” Lasko said. “He’s fabricated this intricate conspiracy out of a few haphazard coincidences.”

              “When did you discover that Cardio-Prime Technologies was interested in acquiring DynaStim?” Lloyd asked.

              “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

              “You’re still under oath.” Lloyd said. “Do you want me to repeat the question?”

              “Cardio-Prime is a large company,” Lasko said. “They have subsidiaries all around the world. Sure, I may have heard of an acquisition here and there but I couldn’t possibly keep track of all of them. And I’ve never profited from that knowledge.” Lasko thumped his fist on the table.

              “Tell me about DynaStim,” Lloyd said.

              “Are you talking about that little outfit in California?” Lasko shrugged. “I caught drift that Cardio-Prime had some interest in them about a year ago and promptly forgot all about them. I have no interest in them.”

              “What are they developing?” Lloyd asked.

              “How should I know?” Lasko said. “I told you, the entire thing slipped my mind.”

              “Let me refresh your memory,” Lloyd said. “They make pacemakers. But not just any old pacemaker. They developed deep brain electrodes designed to stimulate the hippocampus as a treatment for dementia. That’s why you had to stop my research. They’re still in phase one trials and you wanted to make sure they’d get to market with a treatment for dementia before I did. Just think of all the money you would have made.”

              “I’ll say it again.” Lasko lifted his fist in the air but this time he placed it back quietly on the tabletop. “Not a penny of assets of that fledgling company is in my name. And that’s the truth.” Lasko said.

              Lloyd leaned over the edge of the table. “Who’s Victoria Hampton?”

              Lasko’s gaze seemed to hover unfocused over the table.

              Lloyd locked his eyes on Lasko’s. “Who’s Victoria Hampton?”

              “She’s my wife,” Lasko said in a subdued voice.

              “Mr. Murdock?” Lloyd asked, turning to the man in the beige suit sitting next to De Luca.

              “That’s all I need for now,” Murdock said.

              “Can someone explain what’s going on here?” Fisk said.

              “I’m John Murdock. I investigate securities fraud for the SEC.”

              Fisk rubbed the nape of his neck. “SEC?”

              “The United States Securities and Exchange Commission,” Murdock said.

              “I know what it
stands
for,” Fisk said. “What are you doing here?”

              “Dr. Copeland contacted our regional office. I’m afraid there’s overwhelming evidence implicating Dr. George Lasko in insider trading and securities fraud. Our agents were able to secure a manifest of investors from DynaStim Therapeutics in San Diego. A Mrs. Virginia Hampton is listed for a cool one-point-eight million.” Murdock slipped the small agenda back in his coat pocket. “Nice to be handed such a gift on a silver platter. Saves us months of work.” Murdock got to his feet. “Dr. Lasko, we’ll be in touch very soon. In fact, a team of special investigators is waiting at your lovely home as we speak. Thought we’d spare you the perp walk in front of the hospital.”

              Murdock shook De Luca’s hand and walked out of the room. There were a few tense moments of silence. Then Lasko rose, grabbed his possessions and left without saying a word. When the door shut behind him, Fisk let out a long whistle.

              Townshend smiled. “Good riddance!”

              Fisk looked at Lloyd. “Dr. Copeland. I have a reputation for being a cold-blooded son-of-a-bitch, and I’d sure like to keep it that way. But seeing as this is a closed meeting let me say that I’m glad things turned out the way they did. You got some real chutzpah… for a Yankee.”

              “Why, Dr. Fisk,” Feynman said, his eyes losing some of their sadness, “I never thought I’d see the day when I’d hear you speak Yiddish.”

              “Yiddish?” Fisk said. “That there’s a cowboy word.”

              “Dr. Copeland,” Feynman said, “let me offer another cowboy expression. Mazel Tov! May the two of you enjoy peace, happiness and prosperity. You are free to leave while we deliberate and come up with the wording of our recommendation.”

              Lloyd and Erin got to their feet and hugged. De Luca walked around the table and stood behind Lloyd. Lloyd turned and shook his hand.

              “Are you kidding?” De Luca said. “I’m Italian.” He smothered Lloyd in a bear hug. Lloyd patted his back stiffly with a flat hand. De Luca finally let go and said, “Make sure you come by the café’. I still have to give you your wedding gift.” He kissed Erin on both cheeks and left with a skip in his step.

              “I guess the meeting’s adjourned,” Dr. Townshend said.

              “You took the words right out of my mouth,” Fisk said.

              Lloyd stuffed the textbooks in his backpack and zipped it shut. When he and Erin reached the door, Fisk called out with a smile, “Oh Dr. Copeland! You better starch that white coat and spit shine your boots. I expect to see you back on the ward, pronto.”

              “After our honeymoon,” Lloyd said.

              Chapter 46

              “
Y
eah but, will you marry me
now
?”

              She released her grasped and peered into his eyes. “What do you mean, now?”

              “Let’s get married, right now,” Lloyd said.

              “This isn’t Vegas. You can’t just –”

              “The Cubs have an away game today. I sort of reserved Wrigley field.”

              Erin stared at him. Smiling, she rested her fingertips on her temple. She shook her head and said, “You’re nuts. You’re absolutely nuts! So that’s why you’re all dressed up.  Look what
I’m
wearing.”

              “I bought you a wedding dress. It’s in the car.” He took her by the hand, “We better start moving. We can talk in the car.” Erin followed Lloyd who was now pulling her hand. They broke out in a light jog, laughing.

              Erin stopped and jerked Lloyd’s arm. “What about my parents?”

              Lloyd turned to her. “They flew in from Boca Raton last night. They were hiding upstairs at Sean’s house when we stopped by.”

              “What if I’d have said no?”

              “If you don’t take some risks once in a while, you’re not really living,” Lloyd said.

              Erin gazed at him, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s hurry. I can’t wait to marry you.”

              They reached the car. Erin headed for the front passenger door, but Lloyd stopped her. “Back door. We’re running late. You’ll have to change in the car.” He nudged her in the back seat and headed for the hatchback, pulled out a large box. “It should fit,” he said.

              “You want me to change in the car?”

              “This is Chicago. No one will be looking.”

              A half hour later, they were heading east on West Addison Street. Erin was peering in a hand held mirror applying a few last touches of make-up. She frowned. “Tell me there’s no photographer,” she said.

              Lloyd glanced in the rear-view mirror. He smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

              “Keep your eyes on the road, liar.”

              Up ahead, the red Wrigley Field marquee came into view. It wasn’t until he turned left on North Clark that Erin could see the lighted board announce,
Today: Copeland - Kennedy Wedding.
She stared at the sign wide-eyed and said, “You gotta be kidding me!”

              Lloyd drifted to the right lane and slowed. A barrel chested man holding a walkie-talkie stood in front of the Ernie Banks statue. Except for the body shape, he was nearly a spitting image of Nick De Luca. Lloyd stopped the car by the curb and lowered the passenger window.

              The man crouched by the side of the car. “Dr. Copeland? I’m Vince De Luca. And you must be Dr. Kennedy,” he said with a nod. “Welcome to Wrigley field and best wishes.”

              He turned, took a few steps, moved a green steel barrier blocking the driveway to the Red Lot parking and waved Lloyd through. Lloyd parked the car and turned off the engine. He turned to face the back seat and said, “Well, this is it. Ready?”

              It was a glorious early summer day. As Lloyd and Erin stepped onto the turf from the dark service tunnel, they were forced to squint at the brightness of the blue sky. A breeze blew from the south – the kind of breeze that lifted balls and carried them over the ivy covered outfield wall.
A great day to hit a home run
, Lloyd thought.

              Sean Kennedy was standing near home plate next to an older couple. Daniel Kennedy was much shorter than what Lloyd remembered. Brenda Kennedy clutched her husband’s arm when she caught sight of her daughter. Lloyd and Erin walked hand in hand, but with ten yards to go Erin let go and ran towards her parents, falling into her mother’s embrace.