I remembered sitting in on a classified briefing in which we learned all about plans by the Pentagon’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency to create such drones. The incentive was to reduce collateral damage from bomb strikes. High-orbiting Predator UAVs aren’t always discriminate when lobbing Hellfire missiles. Target a terrorist who stops in for a quick bite to eat at the House of Hummus, and innocent people often get blown to smithereens with him. On the other hand, a battery-powered, remote-controlled drone packing miniaturized optics and a small warhead could buzz in through an open window at the House of Hummus, land unobtrusively, wait until the bad guy visited the men’s room, then blow him to smithereens. That was the concept, anyway. Nano technology was little more than theoretical when I worked for the government. How times had changed in only a few short years.
Castle Robotics’ relationship with the Pentagon, Sheen said, had taken a substantial hit following news reports of Dorian Munz’s unfounded, eleventh hour assertion that Ruth Walker had been murdered in part because she supposedly had knowledge of malfeasance on Castle’s part. The company had also taken a financial hit. In the weeks following Munz’s execution, the value of the company’s stock had tanked on the NASDAQ.
“The board is meeting next month in New York to hold a vote of confidence,” Castle said. “If I lose that vote, I’ll have no choice but to step down.”
“That won’t happen, Greg,” Sheen said. “Not as long as I have any say in it.”
Castle got up, patted Sheen on the shoulder and paced the room. “If Munz were still alive, I’d sue him for libel. To imply that I killed the daughter of the one man I most admire in this world, because I was somehow trying to protect this company, or that she and I had an affair and I impregnated her, is outrageous on the face of it.”
“Can you prove Munz lied?”
“Absolutely. I took a paternity test.”
“Voluntarily,” Sheen added, “and passed.”
“You took a paternity test?”
Castle rubbed his forehead. “I can’t believe I just admitted that. I’ve never told anybody, except Ray. And Munz, of course.”
I tried not to appear as surprised as I was.
“You told Dorian Munz you took a paternity test?”
“I don’t recall the specific date,” Castle said, “but it had to have been a few weeks before Ruth was killed. She told me Munz was running around town saying I was the father, so I offered to take a test, to prove him wrong.”
“Where did Munz come up with the idea you were the father?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“Munz is dead. I’m asking you.”
Castle poured himself some orange juice. “I don’t exactly appreciate your tone, Mr. Logan.”
I reminded him that I was there to help, and asked him again where Munz had gotten the notion that he’d sired Ruth Walker’s child.
“Honestly? I have no idea. I’d always assumed that Munz was the father and simply didn’t want to accept responsibility. All I know is, I went to a clinic ten years ago, they swabbed the inside of my mouth, and the results showed it wasn’t me. I assumed that was the end of it. It never came up in Munz’s trial. Then, ten minutes before he’s put to death, he pops off with all these insane accusations, and the news media reports them like it’s fact.” Castle gulped his juice. “You have no idea, Mr. Logan, the strain this has put on my marriage. My wife’s a practicing Roman Catholic. She can’t understand how anyone could lie like Munz did, knowing they’re about to face their maker.”
“If you shared the results of that test with the news media,” I said, “you’d be golden.”
“Share the results? With those bloodsuckers? So they can boost their ratings or sell a few more papers? It’s none of their damn business.”
“It is if Munz’s accusations ruin your company and take you down with them.”
Castle looked over at Sheen as if for guidance.
“The press would probably just ignore it anyway at this point, Greg,” Sheen said. “You know how that tune goes — never let the facts stand in the way of a good story.”
“You mind if I have a look at the report?” I asked.
“I really don’t see how this is any of your business, either,” Castle said.
“Hub Walker hired me to help find a way to get you out of a jam, Mr. Castle. This could be that way.”
Castle thought about it for a couple of seconds, sighed, then crossed the room to a four-drawer oak filing cabinet.
“Greg keeps everything,” Sheen said admiringly. “He’s very well organized.”
It didn’t take Castle long to find what he was looking for.
“Here we go.” He pulled open a manila-colored file jacket, gave the single sheet of paper inside a quick look, and handed it to me.
It was a report, dated August 21, 2003 and printed on the letterhead of SoCal Genetic Laboratories in nearby Kearny Mesa. It stated:
“Sixteen genetic loci were tested using DNA amplification with the Accu-track/16 system, an XY-300XL genetic analyzer, and second-generation, Geno-Chromosomal marking software. Based on the DNA analysis, GREGORY CASTLE is excluded as the father of the female child, RYDER WALKER, because they do not share sufficient genetic markers. The percentage probability of the stated relationship is zero (0).”
“I rest my case,” Castle said.
I asked if I could have a copy to pass along to Walker. Walker would then distribute the results to the newshounds, proving that Munz had lied.
Castle rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d have to think it over. I don’t know, I just don’t know.”
“If I could weigh in here for just a second,” Sheen said. “Greg, my primary concern is that directors meeting in New York next month. I mean, do you really want to be having to explain to the board whether you did or didn’t sleep with someone ten years ago?”
“I may have no choice, Ray.”
“Maybe. But even if Munz’s allegations were true, which of course they weren’t, having a child out of wedlock reflects in no way on your ability or inability to manage this company,” Sheen said. “The more onerous allegation, obviously, is that Castle Robotics was stealing from the government. No paternity test addresses that.”
“An independent audit would,” I said. “Send out a press release. Tell the world you’ve commissioned one, and that Castle Robotics has nothing to hide.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Sheen said. “The transparency of a fresh audit could do us nothing but good.”
“And dignify the lies of a condemned killer who’s gone to his grave?” Castle shook his head. “Our bylaws already require an annual audit of the corporation’s books. A supplemental audit would be a waste of money — money better spent in product R&D.”
Castle readily agreed that Munz’s allegations had created a public relations nightmare for his company and him personally. He agreed that the federal government’s confidence in Castle Robotics had been undermined, and that something had to be done public relations-wise if the company hoped to continue securing the multimillion-dollar defense contracts that were its lifeblood. But Castle was hesitant to get involved directly. Decorum, he said, prevented him from standing up in his own defense.
“It would look undignified,” he said.
“Fair enough,” I said. “All you have to do is get a copy of that paternity test to Hub. He’ll do the rest.”
“I’d have to think about it.”
“It’s your rodeo.”
I got up to leave. Castle and Sheen walked me out.