"So?" The lawyer shrugged.”Dr. Mace doesn't like the manufacturer of Montayne. It's understandable.”
"No. It's something more than that. I'm sure.”
"I wouldn't worry about it.”
Yet that expression of hatred stayed with Celia, troubling and puzzling her, for the remainder of the day. Vincent Lord had stayed on in Washington for an extra day and Celia had a showdown with him about his testimony the previous afternoon. It took place in her hotel suite where she accused him bluntly of lying, and asked, "Why?" To her surprise, the research director did not dispute the accusation and said contritely, "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I was nervous.”
"You didn't appear to be nervous.”
"It doesn't have to show. All those questions were getting to me. I wondered what that guy, Urbach, knew.”
"What could he know?" Lord hesitated, groping for an answer.”Nothing more than we all do, I guess. Anyway, I figured that how I answered was the quickest way to end the questions and get out.”
Celia was unconvinced.”Why should you, more than anyone else, have to get out quickly? Okay, what's happening is unpleasant for everyone, including me, and we all have consciences to answer. But nothing illegal was ever done about Montayne.”
She stopped, a sudden thought striking her.”Or was it?" "No! Of course not.”
But the response was a second late and a shade too strong. Some words of Sam's, as they had once before, came back to Celia: "There's... something you don't know.” She regarded Lord quizzically.”Vince, is there anything, anything at all, about Montayne and Felding-Roth that I've not been told?" "I swear to you-nothing. What could there be?" He was lying again. She knew it. She also knew that Sam's secret, whatever it might be, had not died with him-that Lord had shared it. But at the moment, she could go no further.
The subcommittee hearings lasted four days. There were other witnesses, among them two doctors-neurologists who had examined babies damaged by Montayne. One of the doctors had been to Europe to study cases there and showed slides of children he had seen. Outwardly, there was nothing to suggest that the photographed children were other than normal. But most were lying down and, as the specialist explained, "Any but the smallest movement will always have to be made for them. Additionally, all these infants suffered serious brain damage during their embryonic stage.”
Some of the children's faces were beautiful. One-older than the others-was a two-year-old boy. Supported by an unseen hand behind him, he was looking into the camera with what seemed soulful eyes. His expression was blank. "This child," the neurologist informed his silent audience, "will never think like you or me, and almost certainly will have no awareness of what is going on around him.”
The young face reminded Celia sharply of Bruce at the same age, sixteen years ago. Bruce, who had written only a few days before from Williams College, which he was now attending.
Dear Mom and Dad: College is great! I love it here. What I like most is, they want you to think, think, think... Celia was glad the lights had been lowered for the slides, then realized she was not alone in using a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. Senator Donahue, when the doctor had finished, seemed to be having trouble with his voice. Yes, Celia thought, despite all his grandstanding and politics, he cares too.
Whatever softness there had been in Donahue had clearly vanished when, on the afternoon of the hearing's fourth and final day, Celia was recalled as a witness. Even in exchanges with his own staff, the senator seemed impatient and irritable. Before Celia was called, Quentin whispered to her, "Be careful. The great man sounds as if he ate something during lunch which disagreed with him.”
Celia was questioned by subcommittee counsel Urbach concerning other testimony as it related to her own, earlier. When queried about Vincent Lord's assertion that he would have delayed Montayne had the responsibility been his, she replied, "We have since discussed that. My own recollection differs from Dr. Lord's, but I see no point in disputing his statement, so let it stand.”
As to her visit to the headquarters of Citizens for Safer Medicine, Celia said, "There are differences in interpretation. I went to see Dr. Stavely on impulse and with friendly intentions, thinking we might learn something from each other. It did not turn out that way.”
Urbach asked, "Did you go there intending to talk about Montayne?" "Not specifically.”
"But you did discuss Montayne?" "Yes.”
"Did you hope to persuade Dr. Stavely and Citizens for Safer Medicine to cease, or moderate, their campaign to have the FDA's approval of Montayne withdrawn?" "I did not. The thought never occurred to me.”
"Was your visit an official one, on behalf of your company?" "No. In fact, no one else at Felding-Roth knew of my intention to call on Dr. Stavely.”
In his seat beside Urbach, Donahue seemed displeased. He asked, "Are all those truthful answers, Mrs. Jordan?" "All my answers have been truthful.”
Anger seized her as she added, "Would you like me to take a polygraph test?" Donahue scowled.”You are not on trial here.”
"Excuse me, Senator. I hadn't noticed.”
Glowering, Donahue motioned for Urbach to continue. The questioning moved on to the Felding-Roth Doctrine. "You have heard Dr. Stavely describe the document as a 'shameless piece of sales promotion,' " Urbach said.”Do you agree with that assessment?" "Of course not. The doctrine has no objective other than the declared, straightforward one of charting future company policy.”
"Oh, really. Are you convinced, then, it will have no sales promotion value at all?" Celia sensed a trap being sprung. She decided to be wary. "I didn't say that. But if-as an honest declaration-it eventually has that kind of value, it was not the original intention.”
Donahue was fidgeting. Urbach turned to him inquiringly.”Senator?" The chairman seemed uncertain whether to intervene or not. Then he said dourly, "It all comes down to interpretation, doesn't it? Whether we should believe a selfless, dedicated persop like Dr. Stavely, or a spokeswoman for an industry which is so obsessed with profit that it regularly kills people or mutilates them, using drugs it knows in advance to be unsafe?" There were gasps from spectators. Even Donahue's aides looked uneasy, sensing he had gone too far. Ignoring all else, Celia asked acidly, "Is that a question directed at me, Senator? Or is it what it appears to be: a totally biased, unsupported statement, revealing this hearing as a charade which reached its verdict before any of us arrived?" Donahue pointed to Celia, as he had to Mace.”Let me warn the witness: there is an offense in this place called contempt of Congress.”
Not caring anymore, she shot back, "Don't tempt me!" The senator thundered, "I order you to explain that remark!" Celia had progressed beyond all caution. Scarcely hearing a whispered plea from Quentin, and shaking off his hand, she leaped to her feet. "I explain it by pointing out that you, who sit here in judgment of Montayne and Felding-Roth and FDA, are the same person who, two years ago, complained about a delay in approving Montayne, and described it as ridiculous.”
"That is a lie! Now you are in contempt, madam. I made no such statement. " Celia felt a wondrous glow of satisfaction. Donahue had forgotten. It was hardly surprising-he made so many statements on so many subjects. And his aides, if they knew of what was said earlier, had failed to brief him. On both counts, Quentin had been wrong. There was a folder in front of her which she had not opened until now. She had brought it, just in case. From it Celia produced a batch of press clippings stapled together. She chose the one on top. "This is from the Washington Post of September 17, 1976.”