The mention of Colchester’s name disturbed Romey. “He’s a small man.”
“I want to know how small.”
“Are you trying to figure out a sum for yourself?”
“I have no income, no hope of getting a job with Shirley Mitchell hanging over my head. So yes. What did you pay him? Because I think I’m worth more. With what I have on you, I’m confident you’ll agree.”
Roman gave this serious consideration. It was actually something Jordan had said that allowed Julie to piece it all together. “How did Cole know Sherri was going to come clean to you?” Somebody knew because they were eavesdropping on Julie’s conversations. And that somebody was Lincoln Cole, not William Colchester.
“Two hundred thousand,” Romey said.
“Two hundred grand to get William Colchester to bribe the judge?”
“Yes, that’s what I paid him and that’s what I’m willing to offer you.”
Julie broke into a smile. “Good,” she said.
The door to Romey’s office burst open and seven armed agents from the FBI stormed in with guns drawn. They ordered Romey to the ground and he cooperated without resistance. He was immediately handcuffed, brought to his feet, and read his rights.
“What are the charges?” Romey asked.
Julie took delight in the fear on his face.
“U.S. Code 201,” an agent from the FBI said. “Bribing a public official.”
“What is this? I never-” Romey said. “And don’t trust her. She’s been fired from White. She has reason to hurt me.”
Julie retrieved her cell phone from Roman’s desk and held it to his face.
“It might look like my phone’s turned off, but it’s not,” Julie said. “It’s running an app called TrueSpy and recording everything we just discussed. The Boston police weren’t so keen on my using it, so I went to the FBI. They told me they couldn’t get a warrant for murder because it wasn’t a federal crime, but turns out bribing a public official is a different story. Trust me, Romey, you’ll still go down for murder, you son of a bitch.”
Julie used the bathroom in Romey’s office to change back into her street clothes while her phone was bagged and tagged as evidence, and Romey got carted away in handcuffs.
The Boston police had given Julie the ultimatum to wear the wire or face arrest, so she played it the only way she could. She’d said yes to their deal, while secretly cutting a separate deal with the FBI to get Colchester. Roman was Julie’s real target, but she needed someone for the bait and switch. Dr. Gerald Coffey had served that need well.
Neither organization knew what the other was doing, so now the FBI had another job to do-make nice with Spence and Capshaw and get Lucy and Becca out of hot water. Julie had another job to do as well. Somehow Sam and the others were made alpha-gal allergic. But how? She knew someone who might have an answer-someone who knew a lot about bugs.
CHAPTER 53
Michelle Stevenson poured a little more wine into Julie’s glass. They were back in Michelle’s nicely appointed living room where a framed beetle hung on the wall near a picture of Michelle’s son, Andrew. Julie had gone to the home of Keith and Michelle to talk arachnids-specifically, the lone star tick. Julie’s theory was that somehow the tick saliva had been synthesized and then injected into the patients to turn them alpha-gal allergic.
Julie looked at the picture of Andrew with a renewed feeling of gratitude for her own life, for her many blessings, for Trevor, and a sense of peace she felt now that Lincoln Cole and Roman Janowski were no longer threats.
“Will they charge Roman with murder?” Michelle asked.
“The police are working on it,” Julie said. “That’s why I need your help. Roman certainly had access to the patients, and giving an injection of cetuximab isn’t so hard to do. What I can’t figure out is how he made them positive for the alpha-gal allergy.”
Keith, dressed comfortably in jeans and a navy polo, made a sound suggesting that he was at a loss as well.
“For such a small critter, the tick’s salivary glands are incredibly complex,” Keith said. “I mean, it’s really quite remarkable. It’s certainly a key to their evolutionary success. The bioactive component exhibits a range of pharmacological properties. I’m not sure how it would be synthesized, but I suppose it’s possible, or elements of it at least.”
Michelle said, “What was Romey’s motive in all this?”
“Well, he didn’t come right out and say it, but profit, I’m sure,” Julie said.
“How so?” Keith asked.
“Moving from fee-for-service to the accountable care model changed the profitability equation. The extra money an ACO can earn from Medicare kicks in only if the patient’s cost for care is lower than expected. What better way to control costs than get rid of the expensive patients? Hospitals’ revenues are up, but margins are down because of climbing expenses. A patient like Sam could cost up to a half million dollars, maybe more. Get rid of enough patients like him, put a stop to unnecessary tests and treatments, and it combines to make a big difference to the bottom line. We don’t know how many people Roman murdered, but to make it worth his while it had to be a lot.”
“Judging by the ones we know about, they had a lot of tests and treatments coming their way,” Michelle said, sipping her wine. “Though Very Much Alive would argue those were hardly unnecessary.”
“I agree,” Julie said. “But it was a point Roman made before the FBI came barging in to arrest him.”
“Oh, I would have loved to see the look on his face when that went down,” Keith said.
“You should have seen the looks on the faces of the Boston detectives,” Julie said. “They were none too pleased, and the FBI was gloating a bit, but they got Lucy and Becca out of trouble, thank goodness. I guess intra-agency competition is a normal thing. I’m just glad I was able to put Roman where he belongs.”
“And poor Dr. Coffey,” Michelle said. “What a scare. I’m surprised he didn’t have a coronary.”
“He’s a pompous ass with a heart of stone, so I’m not surprised at all,” Julie said. “He had nothing to do with this, but he earned his place in the operation.”
Keith stood, shaking his head in disbelief. “Crazy. Just crazy. Let’s break for dinner, and then afterward we’ll dive into the nuances of tick saliva,” he said. “I’ve got braised chicken with artichokes in the oven. I’d hate for a lengthy discussion about tiny blood-sucking arachnids to ruin our appetites.”
“I’ll help you get it ready,” Michelle said, rising from her chair.
Julie stood as well. “May I use the bathroom?”
“Of course, you know where it is. Down the hall next to the study.”
When Julie got out of the bathroom, she could hear Keith and Michelle having what sounded like a heated conversation. Marriage was hard, Julie knew, and she wandered into the study to give the couple some space to finish their disagreement. She scanned the bookshelves, noting many medical ethics texts, some novels, a few classics mixed with mysteries and thrillers. Keith had his own section for medical texts, but some remnants from his past life as a bug enthusiast lingered, including a large volume specifically on arachnids.
Julie took the book off the shelf and turned to the index, where she found an entry for the lone star tick. She opened to that page and a shiver tore through her body.