Seizure (5 page)

“This is Dr. Stephanie D'Agostino,” Daniel snapped. “She is my scientific collaborator.”

“Another M.D., Ph.D.?” Ashley questioned.

“I am a Ph.D., not an M.D.,” Stephanie said into her microphone. “And Mr. Chairman, I would like to echo Dr. Lowell's opinion about the biased way this hearing has been proceeding, but without his inflammatory words. I strongly believe that allusions to the Frankenstein myth in relation to HTSR are inappropriate, since they play to people's fundamental fears.”

“I'm chagrined,” Ashley said. “I always thought you Ivy League folks were addicted to alluding to various and sundry literary masterpieces, but here, the one time I give it a whirl, I'm told it's inappropriate. Now is that fair, especially since I distinctly remember being taught at my small, Baptist college that
Frankenstein
was, among other things, a warning about the moral consequences of unchecked scientific materialism? In my mind, that makes the book extremely apropos. But that's enough on this particular issue! This is a hearing, not a literary debate.”

Before Ashley could continue, Rob came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Ashley placed his hand over his microphone to prevent it from picking up any of his aide's comments.

“Senator,” Rob whispered in Ashley's ear. “As soon as the request came through this morning for Dr. D'Agostino to join Dr. Lowell at the witness table, we did a quick background check on her. She's a Harvard-trained townie. She was brought up in the North End of Boston.”

“Is that supposed to be significant?”

Rob shrugged. “It could be a coincidence, but I doubt it. The indicted investor in Dr. Lowell's company whom the Bureau told us about is also a D'Agostino who grew up in the North End. They are probably related.”

“My, my,” Ashley commented. “That is curious.” He took the sheet of paper from Rob and put it next to the financial statement of Daniel's company. He had trouble suppressing a smile after such a windfall.

“Dr. D'Agostino,” Ashley said into his microphone after removing his hand. “Are you by any chance related to Anthony D'Agostino residing at Fourteen Acorn Street in Medford, Massachusetts?”

“He is my brother.”

“And this is the same Anthony D'Agostino who has been indicted for racketeering?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Stephanie said. She glanced at Daniel, who was looking at her with an expression of disbelief.

“Dr. Lowell,” Ashley continued. “Were you aware that one of your initial and rather major investors had been so indicted?”

“No, I was not,” Daniel said. “But he is far from a major investor.”

“Hmmm,” Ashley voiced. “Several hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money in my book. But we won't quibble. I don't suppose he serves as a director?”

“He does not.”

“That's a relief. And I suppose we can assume the indicted racketeer Anthony D'Agostino does not serve on your ethics board, which I understand you have.”

A suppressed titter sounded in the audience.

“He does not serve on our ethics board,” Daniel rejoined.

“That's also a relief. Now let's talk for a moment about your company,” Ashley said. “The name is CURE, which I understand is somewhat of an acronym.”

“That's correct,” Daniel said with a sigh, as if he were bored with the proceedings. “It was derived from Cellular Replacement Enterprises.”

“I'm sorry if you are fatigued by the rigors of this hearing, Doctor,” Ashley said. “We'll try to wrap things up as quickly as we can. But I understand your company is attempting to accomplish its second round of financing via venture capitalists, with HTSR as your major intellectual property. Is your ultimate intent to take your company public by having an initial public offering?”

“Yes,” Daniel said simply. He leaned back in his chair.

“Now, this is off the record,” Ashley said. He looked to his left. “I'd like to ask the distinguished senator from the great state of Montana if he thinks the SEC would find it interesting that one of the initial investors in a company planning on
going public has been indicted for racketeering. I mean, there is a question of moral propriety here. Money derived from extortion and maybe even prostitution, for all we know, being laundered through a biotech startup.”

“I'd think they'd be very interested,” the senator from Montana said.

“That would be my thought as well,” Ashley said. He looked back at his notes and then down at Daniel. “I understand your second round of financing has been held up by the S.1103 and the fact that the House has already passed its version. Is that correct?”

Daniel nodded.

“You have to speak for the transcript,” Ashley said.

“Correct,” Daniel said.

“And I understand your burn rate, meaning the money you're using to stay afloat currently, is very high and that if you don't get this second round of financing, you face bankruptcy.”

“Correct.”

“That's too bad,” Ashley said, with all the appearances of sympathy. “However, for our purposes here at this hearing, I would have to assume that your objectivity in relation to the moral aspects of HTSR is in serious question. I mean, the very future of your company depends on S.1103 not being passed. Is that not true, Doctor?”

“My opinion has been and will continue to be that it is morally wrong not to continue to investigate and then use HTSR to cure countless suffering human beings.”

“Your opinion has been recorded,” Ashley said. “But for the record, I would like to point out that Dr. Daniel Lowell has chosen not to answer the posed question.”

Ashley leaned back and looked to his right. “I have no further questions for this witness. Do any of my esteemed colleagues have any questions?”

Ashley's eyes moved around to the faces of the senators seated at the dais.

“Very well,” Ashley said. “The Subcommittee on Health Policy would like to thank doctors Lowell and D'Agostino for their kind participation. And we'd like to call our next witness: Mr. Harold Mendes of the Right to Life organization.”

11:05
A
.
M
., Thursday, February 21, 2002

 

Stephanie could see
the taxi in the middle of the oncoming pack of cars, and she put up her hand expectantly. She and Daniel had followed a suggestion they'd been given by a security officer in the Senate Office Building and had walked over to Constitution Avenue in hopes of catching a cab, but they hadn't had much luck. What had started out that morning as a reasonable day, weather-wise, had taken a turn for the worse. Dark, heavy clouds had blown in from the east, and with the temperature hovering in the lower thirties, there was a distinct possibility of snow. Apparently, under such conditions the demand for taxis far exceeded the supply.

“Here comes one,” Daniel snapped, as if Stephanie had something to do with the lack of cabs. “Don't let it go by!”

“I see it,” Stephanie responded in an equally clipped manner.

After leaving the Senate hearing, neither had spoken much other than the minimum necessary to decide to take the suggestion to walk over to Constitution Avenue. Similar to the gathering clouds, their moods had darkened as the morning's hearing had progressed.

“Damn!” Stephanie mumbled when the cab zipped by. It
was as if the driver was wearing blinders. Stephanie had done everything save throwing herself in front of the speeding traffic.

“You let it go by,” Daniel complained.

“Let it go by?” Stephanie shouted. “I waved. I whistled. I even jumped up and down. I didn't see you make any effort.”

“What the hell are we going to do?” Daniel demanded. “It's colder than a witch's tit out here.”

“Well, if you have any bright ideas, Einstein, let me know.”

“What? Is it my fault there are no cabs?”

“It's not mine either,” Stephanie retorted.

Both hugged themselves in a vain attempt to keep warm but made it a point to keep away from each other. Neither had brought a true winter coat on the trip. They had thought that they wouldn't need them, having flown four hundred miles south.

“Here comes another one,” Daniel stated.

“Your turn.”

With his hand raised, Daniel ventured as far out into the street as he thought safe. Almost immediately, he had to retreat when he caught sight of a pickup truck bearing down on him in the outermost lane. Daniel waved and shouted, but the cab went by in the knot of vehicles without slowing.

“Well done,” Stephanie commented.

“Shut up!”

Just when they were about to give up and begin walking west along Constitution Avenue, a cabbie beeped. He'd been waiting at the traffic light on First Street and Constitution, and had witnessed Daniel's antics. When the light changed, he turned left and pulled over to the curb.

Stephanie and Daniel piled in and buckled their seat belts.

“Where to?” the driver questioned while looking at them in the rearview mirror. He was wearing a turban and was as tan as if he'd just spent a week in the Sahara Desert.

“The Four Seasons,” Stephanie said.

Stephanie and Daniel rode in silence while staring out their respective windows.

“I'd say that hearing was about as bad as it could have been,” Daniel complained at length.

“It was worse,” Stephanie responded.

“There's no doubt the bastard Butler will vote out his bill, and when that happens, I've been assured by the Biotechnology Industry Organization that it will pass the full committee and the Senate itself.”

“So goodbye to CURE, Inc.”

“It's a shame that in this country medical research is being held hostage by demagogic politics,” Daniel snapped. “I shouldn't have even bothered coming down here to Washington.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't have. Maybe it would have been better if I'd come alone. You certainly didn't help things by telling Ashley he was grandstanding and didn't have an open mind.”

Daniel turned and stared at the back of Stephanie's head. “Come again?” he sputtered.

“You shouldn't have lost control.”

“I don't believe this,” Daniel marveled. “Are you trying to imply that this crappy outcome is my fault?”

Stephanie turned to face Daniel. “Being sensitive about other people's feelings is not one of your strong points. And this hearing is a case in point. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't lost your cool. Attacking him like you did was inappropriate because it stopped whatever dialogue you might have been able to maintain. That's all I'm saying.”

Daniel's pale face turned crimson. “That hearing was a goddamn farce!”

“Maybe so, but that doesn't justify your saying as much to Butler's face, because it nipped in the bud any chance of success we might have had, however small. I think his goal was to get you mad so you'd look bad, and it worked. It was his way of discrediting you as a witness.”

“You're pissing me off.”

“Daniel, I'm as irritated about this outcome as you are.”

“Yeah, but you're saying it's my fault.”

“No, I'm saying that your behavior didn't help things. There's a difference.”

“Well, your behavior didn't help things either. How come you never told me about your brother being indicted for racketeering? All you told me was that he was a qualified investor.
Some qualifications! It was a fine time for me to learn about that little sordid tidbit.”

“It was after he was an investor, and it was in the Boston papers. So it's not as if it was a secret, but it was something I felt I'd rather not talk about, at least at the time. I thought the reason you didn't bring it up was that you were being considerate. But I should have known better.”

“You didn't feel like talking about it?” Daniel questioned with exaggerated astonishment. “You know I don't bother reading the stupid Boston rags. So how else would I have learned about it? And I would have had to know about it eventually because Butler was right. If we'd gone for an IPO, it would have had to be disclosed that we had a felon for an investor, and it would have held things up.”

“He has been indicted,” Stephanie said. “He's not been convicted. Remember, in our system of justice you're innocent until proven guilty.”

“That's a rather lame excuse for not mentioning it to me,” Daniel snapped. “Is he going to be convicted?”

“I don't know.” Stephanie's voice had lost its edge as she coped with a tinge of guilt at not having been more forthright with Daniel about her brother. She'd thought about mentioning the indictment on occasion but had always put it off until a tomorrow that had never arrived.

“You have no idea whatsoever? That's a little hard for me to believe.”

“I have had vague suspicions,” Stephanie admitted. “I had the same suspicions about my father, and Tony has essentially taken over my father's businesses.”

“What are the businesses we're talking about?”

“Real estate and a few restaurants, plus a restaurant and a café on Hanover Street.”

“Is that all?”

“That's what I don't know. As I said, I had vague suspicions with such things as people coming and going from our house at all hours of the day and night, and the women and children being sent out of the room at the end of extended family meals so the men could talk. In many ways, in retrospect it seemed to me we were the cliché of an
Italian-American Mob family. Certainly it wasn't on a scale like you'd see in gangster movies, but modestly similar. We females were expected to be consumed by the affairs of hearth and home and church without any interest or involvement in business whatsoever. To tell you the truth, it was an embarrassment for me, because we kids were treated differently in the neighborhood. I couldn't wait to get away, and I was smart enough to recognize that the best way was by being a good student.”

“I can relate to that,” Daniel said. The sharpness in his voice mellowed as well. “My father was also into all sorts of businesses, some of which were close to being scams. The problem was that they were all failures, meaning he and subsequently my siblings and I became the butt of jokes in the town of Revere, particularly at school, at least those of us who were not part of the ‘in' crowd, which I surely wasn't. My father's nickname was ‘Loser Lowell,' and unfortunately the epithet had a tendency to trickle down.”

“For me, it was the opposite,” Stephanie said. “We were treated to a kind of deference, which wasn't pleasant. You know how teenagers like to blend in. Well, it wasn't possible for me, and I didn't even know why. I hated it.”

“How come you've never told me about any of this?”

“How come you've never told me about your family other than the fact that you have eight siblings, none of whom, I might add, I have met? I at least asked you about your family on several occasions.”

“That's a good point,” Daniel said vaguely. His eyes drifted outside, where a few lonely snowflakes could be seen dancing on the wind gusts. He knew the real answer to Stephanie's question was that he'd never cared about her family any more than he cared about his own. He cleared his throat and turned back to Stephanie. “Maybe we haven't talked about our families because we were both embarrassed about our childhoods. Or maybe it's been a combination of that and our preoccupation with science and founding the company.”

“Perhaps,” Stephanie said without a lot of conviction. She stared out through the front windshield. “It is true that academics have always been my escape. Of course my father
never approved, but that only increased my resolve. Hell, he didn't think I should go college. He thought it was a waste of time and money, saying I was just going to get married and have kids like it was fifty years ago.”

“My father was literally embarrassed that I was good at science. He told everyone that it had to have come from my mother's side, like it was a genetic disease.”

“What about your brothers and sisters? Was it the same for them?”

“To some degree, because my father was a small enough person to blame his failings on us. You know, sapping the capital he needed to really get started in whatever was the current bright business idea. But my brothers, who were good at sports, fared a bit better, at least back when they were in school, because my father was a sports nut. But getting back to your brother, Tony. Whose idea was it that he invest in CURE, yours or his?” Daniel's voice regained some of its earlier brusqueness.

“Is this going to become an argument again?”

“Just answer the question!”

“What difference does it make?”

“It was a monumental error in judgment to allow a possible—or probable, as the case may be—mobster to invest in our company.”

“It was a combination of both of us,” Stephanie said. “In contrast with my father, he's been interested in what I've been doing lately, and I'd told him biotechnology was a good place to put some of his money from the restaurants.”

“Wonderful!” Daniel exclaimed sarcastically. “I hope you realize that investors in general don't like losing money, despite having been adequately warned of the risks in start-up companies. My guess would be that such an attitude would be an understatement for a mobster. Have you ever heard of such inconveniences as smashed patellae?”

“He's my brother, for Christ's sake! There's not going to be any kneecap smashing.”

“Yeah, but I'm not his brother.”

“It's insulting to even suggest such a thing,” Stephanie snapped. She turned her head to look out her window. Generally she had a reservoir of patience to put up with Daniel's
sarcasm, ego, and antisocial negativity, thanks to the awe she felt about his scientific brilliance, but at the moment and given the morning's events, it was wearing thin.

“Under the circumstances, I don't have a lot of interest in hanging around Washington for another night,” Daniel said. “I think we should get our things together, check out, and get on the next shuttle back to Boston.”

“Fine by me,” Stephanie clipped.

Stephanie got out her side of the taxi as Daniel paid the fare. She headed directly into the hotel lobby, only vaguely aware that he was close behind her. She was upset enough to wonder what she'd do when they got back to Boston. In her current state of mind, the idea of returning to Daniel's Cambridge apartment where she'd been living was not appealing. Daniel's suggestion that her family was low enough to be capable of physical violence was galling. She wasn't sure if anyone in her family was involved in loan-sharking or other questionable activities, but she was darn sure no one ever got hurt.

“Dr. D'Agostino, excuse me!” one of the concierges voiced loudly.

Unexpectedly hearing her name called out in the middle of the hotel lobby startled Stephanie enough that she stopped in her tracks. Daniel collided with her, causing him to drop the folder he was carrying.