FRAMED, page 14
“Probably. But call me later. And let me know if your backup is still at the gym, okay?”
“Will do.”
As Tori replaced the handset, a sense of loneliness gnawed at her gut. The thought of spending the night alone in her violated home filled her with dread. But she steeled herself, determined not to let it consume her.
*
Tori had one more call to make. To warn Jude.
When Jude answered, Tori told her about the break-in.
“Oh Jesus, Tori, all your data? But thank God you weren’t home and you’re okay. I knew I should have come over.”
Jude’s genuine concern touched her. “I’m fine, and I have backup discs and magnetic tape of my data files. If they are still in my gym locker. But this heightens my worry about you and what we’re doing. Van Guy could be someone hired by your employer. If World Petrol finds out, who knows what they’ll do to you.”
She shivered, imagining the thug physically harming Jude.
“I can’t quit now.” Jude’s voice was firm. “I’ve got lots of incriminating measurements. Plus, it’s important for your study.”
Tori wondered if it was all worth it, if she shouldn’t ask Jude to stop. Recent events—her arrest, the stalker, and now this break-in—had shifted the balance of their risky endeavor.
“Are you doing this just to help me, because we—”
Jude interrupted. “No, Tori. The more sampling I do, the more it confirms what I’ve often thought. The refinery is poisoning the surrounding neighborhood. It’s like a sacrificial zone. Why should innocent people have to get sick or die so that oil companies can make huge profits, and we can buy cheap gas for our cars that pollute the air for all of us?”
“Good point. You’d do it anyway, even if we weren’t lovers?”
“Yes, Tori, I would. Plus, I’ve done some research. If I submit this data to the EPA’s Office of Compliance, we might have a chance not only to use it in your study but also to force the company to clean up its act.”
Tori wasn’t convinced, but she was too upset to analyze it just then.
“Okay, as I mentioned earlier, we need to maintain a low profile. No contact.”
Jude sighed. “I miss you.”
Tori said, “I miss you too.” She surprised herself, feeling the intensity behind her words. As she hung up, Tori was left grappling with her feelings—guilt, affection, and a growing sense of dread.
Chapter 29
The Houston police arrived ninety minutes after Tori phoned. Two officers: one burly and red-faced, the other shorter with a permanently dour expression. She explained that her call was delayed because she had to search the house and was still in shock.
“Can you describe the van?” the burly officer asked.
“Solid white, like a delivery van, but without lettering on the side. The license plate wasn’t visible in front,” Tori said.
“Did you see the driver?”
“He was middle-aged, with muscular shoulders, bald, and wearing a black T-shirt. This guy has been stalking me, showing up at restaurants, the gym, and following me from my clinic.”
“Why do you think he’s tailing you?” the dour officer asked, his pen poised over a notepad.
Tori sighed. “I believe he is trying to intimidate me. He only stole my cancer study data, slides, and notes. Someone must not want my study to see the light of day.”
He looked quizzical. “Why not?”
A wave of exhaustion and frustration overtook her. “It’s a cancer study implicating Big Oil’s pollution as a significant contributing factor. They have their reasons for not wanting me to publish it.”
“Do you have thoughts on who they might be?”
She certainly did. World Petrol or someone they hired. But these local officers probably wouldn’t buy it. “I have no idea. There are many petrochemical companies in the study area.”
He looked hard at her, then shrugged. “Okay.”
The officers walked around the house, took pictures of Tori’s office, and requested an inventory of the missing items. They dusted for fingerprints, and the entire investigation, including their interview, took only an hour.
When the police left, Tori closed the front door and sagged against it. Orange Cat appeared from wherever he’d been hiding and rubbed against her legs.
She took her camera from the shelf in her office and snapped pictures of the mess before methodically placing the files and any remaining contents back in order. Halfway through, fatigue overtook her.
“Come on, Orange Cat. We’ve had quite a shock. Let’s get some sleep.”
*
The following morning, Tori stood outside the gym at 6:50 a.m., waiting for it to open at seven. When a blurry-eyed young man unlocked the door, she rushed to the locker room, her heart racing. Please let the backup be here. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the combination lock and swung open the door. She shoved aside a pile of sweaty gym clothes she’d meant to take home to wash and pulled out the shoe box where she’d kept the backup data. Tearing off the lid, she peered inside.
They’re here!
Three magnetic tape drives and eight floppy discs. Tori hugged the box to her chest.
Placing the tape drives and discs into her gym bag, she shut the door and refastened the combination lock just as three twenty-something women entered, laughing and bantering with each other.
Gripping the strap of her gym bag, she walked briskly to her car and drove home. When she entered her study, the blinking red light on her answering machine beckoned her—a message from a colleague at the university.
“Hi, Dr. Nelson. Some guy came around this morning asking questions about your study. He didn’t look like a researcher. No one we knew. He wanted to know if you had an office here. I didn’t like his looks, so I told him nothing. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
So, he’s looking for backup copies of my study.
She sank onto the couch to think. It was time to face reality. She could no longer be the sole keeper of the study data. What if the guy who stole her computer tried to steal it again? Or assaulted her? There was her pending trial. If a jury found her guilty, her credibility as the study’s author would be ruined. Her patients would be left without a medical advocate, and her medical license would be suspended.
She dropped her forehead onto her hand. She shouldn’t have taken on a study of this magnitude alone. But that was all in the past. What she needed now was co-authors—one or more people of stellar reputation—who could publish without her if the need arose.
Who can I ask?
She got up and paced around the room. She had solicited peer reviews of early study drafts from two former colleagues at the Harvard School of Public Health. Perhaps one or both would collaborate and help her integrate Jude’s environmental monitoring data, if she ever got it. But she had little time, especially if she wanted it done before the trial.
She reached for her purse, and then a thought struck her. Where should she leave the box of discs? For a moment, she panicked until she reasoned that Van Guy had already searched her home and gotten what he’d come for.
Just the same, she took the backup into her bedroom and pulled out a drawer. It was the lowest in the chest, and underneath was a hidden compartment between the floor and the drawer’s underside. She slipped in the discs and drives and pushed the drawer back into place.
Flipping through her Rolodex, she found what she needed and drove to a payphone. Having to drive somewhere to make a phone call is getting old.
She rang Dr. Ellen Grenoble, an epidemiologist at the Harvard School of Public Health. She and Ellen had been coauthors on other papers during her time at Harvard and had become friends. Ellen came from a wealthy family and didn’t rely on government or industry grants or her meager salary to survive. Tori had enormous respect for her. Ellen was her top choice, but first she needed to gauge Ellen’s level of interest.
“I thought your study was coming along nicely when I looked at it earlier,” Ellen said. “Have you completed it?”
“I’ve nearly finished, but I’d like to reanalyze the findings and hope to incorporate important environmental monitoring data. To compare cancer rates with emission data and distance from the plants.” Tori began. “But it’s getting too much for me, and I’d love you to work with me on it.”
She waited, shoulders tensed, for Ellen’s answer.
Ellen took her time. “Possibly. I don’t start teaching again until the second quarter. But you’ve done so much work on your own. Why do you need me?”
It appeared that Ellen had not yet learned of her arrest. Tori took a deep breath. “In mid-June, I was arrested for bank robbery. A grand jury has indicted me, and my case will be going to trial.” She bit her lip, hoping this wasn’t a deal breaker.
Ellen took a quick breath. “Oh dear.” A long silence followed.
Tori’s heart sank.
“I understand if you don’t want to be associated with me,” Tori said.
“Did you do it?” Ellen asked.
“Of course not,” Tori said. “It’s a case of mistaken identity. I resemble the bank robber. That’s all.”
“You’re going to trial, you say?”
“Yup.” Tori’s shoulders hunched further.
“And you want us to collaborate before your trial?”
“Yes.” She held her breath.
“We’d best get to work then,” Ellen said.
Tori let her breath out. But it wasn’t a sure thing yet. “Umm.” She changed the phone receiver to her other ear. “There is something else.”
“Oh, dear God, please don’t tell me you’re charged with murder too,” Ellen said.
“No. No.” Tori forced a laugh. “But I don’t yet have any environmental monitoring data. There is a possibility that I may not receive it or be able to use it.”
“Okay,” Ellen said. “It would certainly strengthen the study, though. Anything else?”
“Yes. Someone broke into my house and stole my computer, which had all my study data. Fortunately, I had a backup. But I would keep our collaboration under wraps for now.”
“Are you thinking the petrochemical companies don’t want you to publish?”
“Something like that.”
“You are courageous to do this research, Tori.”
I can’t blame her if she doesn’t want to get involved.
Ellen’s voice came through, steady and clear. “A colleague in Louisiana has made me aware of how Big Oil is embedded in universities, providing funds to achieve research outcomes favorable to their interests. Much like tobacco companies did in decades past.” There was another pause. “Of course, I will collaborate with you.”
Tori closed her eyes, her knees weak with relief.
“Thank you so much, Ellen. I’ll make a copy of the data and FedEx it to you with my study draft, first thing tomorrow.”
It was an enormous relief to have one collaborator, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask another. Tori put a call in to another former colleague, Dr. Jeff Townsend, now a professor of industrial hygiene and toxicology. He could help her integrate whatever data Jude managed to hand over to the EPA.
He was happy enough to collaborate on her paper, but when she told him about her arrest, the call went downhill.
“You did what?” His yell was piercing. Tori jerked the receiver away from her ear. She could still make out his squeak. “You robbed a bank?”
When the phone went silent, she said calmly, “I didn’t rob the bank. I was accused of robbing a bank. A case of mistaken identity that should be resolved at trial.”
“Seriously? I don’t know, Tori. I’ll have to run it by the Institutional Review Board. Harvard will probably not want my name associated with a potential felon.”
Ouch.
“Dr. Ellen Grenoble has agreed to collaborate with me on this paper.”
“Oh, yeah? Did she run it by the Institutional Review Board?”
“No, she didn’t mention it. And I’m not a convicted felon.”
Not yet.
But she was frustrated with Jeff. Even if she were convicted, collaborating with her on the cancer study would not violate research ethics or regulations. She sighed. There was no point in telling him about the illegally obtained monitoring data now.
“I don’t think I can get an answer from the IRB very soon,” Jeff said.
Tori’s chest tightened. “Will you just look at it for now? Like I said, I haven’t been convicted of a felony, and my lawyer thinks I have a good chance of being found not guilty at trial. Your input will be crucial if I can obtain toxic emission data to correlate with excess cancer rates.”
“Really? You might get environmental monitoring data? Okay, send me what you have so far,” Jeff said. “But I make no promises.”
“Thanks, Jeff.” Tori hung up.
She rubbed her eyes and leaned against the side of the phone booth, staring vacantly at the passing traffic. She’d have to reconstruct her MD Anderson talk from memory and use overheads instead of slides. At least my study data will be safe with Ellen and Jeff in Boston.
She had one more call to make.
Chapter 30
Fortunately, Jo was in when Tori rang her.
“My backup discs and magnetic tape drives were in the locker,” Tori said.
“Oh, I’m so relieved! I didn’t sleep much last night, worrying,” Jo said.
“And I called the police. They took pictures and dusted for fingerprints. I took my own photos as well.”
“Good. That was smart. At least the crime is documented,” Jo said. “Did you call Brian to tell him about the break-in?”
“Not yet. I’ll drop by his office later. And listen, Jo. Someone was nosing around the Department of Epidemiology at the university, asking about my study—probably the thug who stole my data.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“I need to keep the data safe in case they try to steal it again. So, I called a colleague, Dr. Ellen Grenoble, at the Harvard School of Public Health and asked her to collaborate with me. Thank God she agreed. I’m sending her a copy of my study data tomorrow. I’m also sending a copy to another colleague who, unfortunately, was reluctant to work with a potential felon.” She inhaled deeply. “If I am convicted, I’ll remove my name from the paper, and Ellen can publish it under her name alone.”
She scrubbed her hand over her face. It hurt to think she’d not get credit for all she’d risked.
“Good plan, although I sincerely hope it doesn’t come to that,” Jo said. After a pause, she added, “Unless the judicial system is corrupt and in the pocket of Big Oil, I just can’t imagine you’d actually be convicted.”
“Yeah, well. This work is of great importance to the people in those neighborhoods, and your lawsuit. It must be published. If I am convicted, it will cause unnecessary problems if my name is on the paper.”
“You’re my hero,” Jo paused, and Tori tensed, sensing she had more to say.
“I’m sorry, but I have some bad news.”
Unconsciously, Tori flung her free arm across her chest and gripped her shoulder, bracing herself for news she didn’t want to hear.
Jo said, “I told you the senior partners heard about your arrest and were upset. Then, when I informed them that your case was going to trial, they decided not to pursue the class action lawsuit.”
“Oh, no. What about the people you signed up? Are you going to leave them hanging?”
“I haven’t contacted them yet. But you’re our key expert—”
Tori interrupted, “I know, I know. If I’m convicted, my testimony and my study would be useless if my name is on the publication. But if my colleague, Ellen, is the lead author, maybe—”
“Right, I get it. I will bring this up with the senior partners.” Jo cleared her throat. “They flipped out when I told them about my involvement in your legal problems. They want me to back off.”
Tori nearly choked. Is she going to abandon me?
“This means you should stop calling me at the office. And unless the partners change their mind, I won’t return to enlist other plaintiffs.”
Tori slumped against the side of the phone booth.
“But I won’t abandon you, Tori. You’re my dear friend. But from now on, please call me at home.”
Tori’s knees nearly buckled. “Thank you,” she managed. Her eyes pricked with tears.
“Of course,” Jo said softly, “I’d love to be present when you talk to Brian. Do you think we can schedule a conference call for early evening? It’s an hour later here, so I could make it home by 5:30 p.m. your time.”
“Okay, if he agrees, I’ll leave a message on your answering machine at home.”
*
When Tori arrived at Brian’s office late that afternoon, he met her at reception and ushered her into his surprisingly small office. She was briefly distracted by pictures of his beautiful, smiling wife and two dark-haired teenage daughters. She sat across from his desk, and he sat in the chair beside her. “The judge has been assigned, and we have a trial date. September 3rd, right after Labor Day.”
A cold wave of fear passed through her. “So soon?
“Yes. It’s unusual to proceed to trial so quickly.”
“But why is this happening?” Her mind was shutting out this news, unable to process it amid recent events.
“I don’t know,” Brian admitted. “We’ll certainly have to work hard over the summer.”
“I’m already upset. Someone broke into my house and stole my computer and files. Plus, someone is tapping my phone.”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up and drew together as he hunched forward, his face settling into an expression of deep concern, as she told him what happened.
“Can we include Jo in this conversation?” Tori said abruptly.” She’s waiting for our call.”
“Of course.”
He dialed Jo and put the call on the speakerphone.
“Tori has told me about the theft of her study, which she suspects was committed by the same guy who has been following her. It’s certainly alarming.”
“Right,” Jo said. “He stole only her data, as well as the slides and notes of a presentation she was to give to the medical staff at MD Anderson. Don’t you think this lends more credence to our theory that Big Oil wants to put Tori out of commission?”
