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Murder by Stem Cells

By Joe Bowden

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Phoenix Project – A Conspiracy of Silence

Chapter One


Anguish swept over Stephanie Anna Steffen-Huffman as she read Harry’s curt text. “Have the background for the next Channel 7’s Eye on Science interview COMPLETE by Thursday’s production meeting.” As the newest investigative reporter, it fell to Steff to tie up loose ends from two weeks of intense research. She had tried three times to finish digging into the background of the Rosch Clinic, and its two top scientists, Michael Lancaster and Peter Hayes. Each attempt was stopped by her increasing anger over a recent discovery of information suggesting the death of her best friend and sorority sister Max at the clinic was not natural. How can I help Harry promote the clinic when they killed Max. Come on, Steff, you’re worked through anger before; get this done or Harry will fire you. Steff picked up the bulky Phoenix Project reference file, uttered a sigh of resignation, and headed for the clinic’s downtown research library.
A short taxi ride brought Steff’s to the research library of the world-renowned Rosch Clinic’s downtown Denver campus. The library’s stark-white on black anteroom presented a feeling of forced order. The lack of visible book stacks further suggested guarding its secrets was important. Leaning over the counter Steff held her press card in front of the young woman behind the desk labeled Research.
Turning toward Steff she closed her tablet “May I help you?”
“Yes, where can I find current information on the Phoenix Project?”
Opening a well ordered file drawer she extracted three booklets, closed the file stood up and pushed them across the counter. “These are our current publications. A brochure outlining the technical goals of the project. A detailed press packet about our Stem Cell research team and a short history of the Clinic.” This well-rehearsed cadence continued. “ Should you require additional information, the Clinic offers a public study room down the hall, first door on your left. In there you will find an extensive collection of publicly available reprints and technical information. They may be copied, but can’t be checked out. The rest of the library is off limits without an escort from the Clinic.”
I wonder what they’re trying to hide? - “Thank you. Do you have Wi-Fi?”
She pointed to a small sign at the corner of her desk. Public unsecured WiFi available: user clinic – password firebird. “Also, there is a page charge for on-site printing and photocopying.”
Steff jotted down the user and password, picked up the three packets and walked to the study room. On the way, she passed a half-glass door, on the right, with a bold sign No Admittance. Peeking through the glass, she saw rows of book-filled shelves along one wall and well-stocked computer cubicles along the other. A quick look up determined no visible cameras, so Steff tested the door and no audible alarms went off. After a longer look around Steff quietly closed the door, and made a mental note to check out this room, at a later visit.
The narrow study room, with its floor to ceiling bookshelves, seemed to close in around a small oak table nestled below the room’s only window. Steff sat in one of the two institutional chairs facing the window and spread out the clinic’s printed material. Let’s see what the PR boys have to say. Hmm -- Opening the glossy PR booklet Steff began underlining bits of text. “…was named Phoenix for a recently developed line of adult stem cells which is able to promote healing of damaged or dying organs. -- life from death… Must be like the mythical Phoenix bird. …new organs from damaged or dying organs with a safe and simple six month stem cell treatment. Hmm – this I gotta see…
The Phoenix stem cell line donor was on death row.
Steff turned on her cell phone microphone and began recording notes to herself. “Do stem cells carry criminal genes?” Steff continued to jot notes along the margin. Only works when serum testosterone levels are low. Must ask the docs how they found that out.” More pages and more notes later. … seems to work best for women and older men after male menopause … additional Clinical Trials are scheduled … “Ask Manny to find out what’s a clinical trial? “… Stem Cells move into diseased organs and replace damaged cells … its first successful application was treating diabetics. Steff turned over to the back page and began reading bios of the docs who developed the cell line. First listed was Michael Lancaster, followed by Peter Hayes. As Steff began to underline she realized Harry is interviewing the docs who killed Max. Bolting to her feet, she knocked her chair backward. “Why those dirty snakes… why I’ll ...!”
Steff banged closed the booklets, stuffed everything into her backpack, and headed for the exit, pausing momentarily at the No Admittance door, then took a step towards the exit. Wheeling on her heel opened the door and went in. Moving towards the closest bookshelf Steff began to read the book spines. These are all marked as FDA exhibits. Moving to the next bookshelf found the same type of books. This must be all of the stuff that FDS requires for approval. “I know you’re hiding something, but where.”
As Steff turned toward the other side of the room a stern faced woman entered the room. “May I see your pass. I don’t recognize you from our approved visitor list.”
“I’m here to meet Dr. Lancaster, but I can’t find him.” Hoping to gain some advantage and not get arrested.
“You are not to be in here, please wait for Dr. Lancaster in the lobby. I will give him a call and see when he will arrive.”
Before she could call Steff thanked her and headed for the exit. Hurrying down the steps, Steff flagged a passing taxi. She closed the door, gave the driver the News 7 address, leaned back and closed her eyes. That was too close; I’ve got to get to the bottom of this. The docs must be the answer -- it's the least I can do for Max.
The afternoon seemed to drag, between trying to look up more information on the docs, and still deal with station business until Harry tapped on her office window and opened the door. “Steff, have you finished the preliminary profile on the clinic’s Phoenix Project? The interview is still on the sheet for this weekend.”
“Yes, - ah yes, I still have a couple of references to check.” She knew only a small part of her answer was truthful. She spun her chair toward the door and jumped toward Harry, making him take a defensive step backward.
“Oh, sorry about that. I was just thinking about the two docs who developed their magic juice.” Steff looked Harry straight in the eye. “Harry, would you consider letting me do this interview?
“You’ve only been with us for a short while.”
“I know, and I don’t deserve a solo gig, but I really want to confront these two. I have some history with their clinic.”
“I’ve done the past three and promised to help them defend the trumped-up charges recently leveled against them and the clinic. Now help me out here. Why should I break the pattern and let you …”
“I know, but I have done all the background. I know those charges are entirely unfounded.” Steff hoped her research would confirm her hunch. “I would like to ask them about a serious discrepancy in the public record.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for one, the Phoenix Project PR guys state that none of the patients treated with this wonderful line of adult stem cells had a serious adverse reaction, when I know for a fact, at least, one died.”
“How do you know that?”
“I was in the room when one of the patients died.”
Harry began pumped his hand in a give-it-to-me motion. “More?”
With all of her composure mustered, Steff related how her friend Max was at the clinic receiving her fifth of six treatment when she began acting all strange, and suddenly passed out. The medical staff did all they could, but Max was dead in just a few minutes. There was supposed to be an autopsy, but the clinic told me she had recently signed a medical request that, in keeping with her religion, she was not to be cut, and her remains were to be cremated within twenty-four hours of her death. I told them it wasn’t true, but they showed me a form with Max’s signature notarized. I was still in a daze, so I just left it alone and went to call her parents.
“Harry, I tell you Max was a dyed-in-the-wool Christian, who made me promise to oversee the donation of her organs and her well-planned funeral, open casket and all. By the time I got back to the clinic that afternoon, she had already been cremated.”
“Could she have changed her mind?”
“Not in less than a week. A couple of months after I moved here, I went with Max to her lawyer’s office and signed a power of attorney and a bunch of stuff in case the treatment she’d been on for the past months didn’t work, and things went to pot. I received my notarized copies of Max’s papers the day before she died."
“Hmm.” Harry twisted the end of his small handlebar his mustache. “You think there is foul play?”
“I don’t know, but when I went to the clinic to get copies of her papers there was a small sticky note on the back of one of the forms with ‘Their lying, she shouldn’t be dead’ written with a green marker. When I got home and found the note I remembered the secretary next to the door waving a green marker at me as I walked by her desk. I called the Clinic’s legal office to talk with her and was told she won a large scratch lottery and quit the company that very afternoon. It seemed odd at the time, but now I think that Max did not die of natural causes and the secretary was trying to tell there is a cover up. Harry, I would like the opportunity to ask the question. Besides, you owe me one for those gems I dug up for your interview with the city inspector.”
“Yes, you did give the station a good point jump in the ratings that week. Okay. It’s yours, I will notify production. Stop by my office and pick up our master file on the clinic. Good hunting.” Harry then turned on his heel and walked out, closing the door behind him.
Steff pushed her clinched fists up over her head and shouted, “Okay! Max, this one’s for you.” Steff fell back into her chair trembling and dripping with sweat, “What have I done? I can’t stop now.”
It took all of five minutes to stop shaking. Taking deep breath, followed by a long sigh, Steff picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. “Hi Sue, I am out doing research for the rest of the day. If Anne Hamilton calls, tell her I will still meet her tomorrow for lunch… yes, please tell her the usual bistro. Also, please do me a favor and call production and let them know I’ll have the script questions and notes ready day after tomorrow … Thanks.”

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