Chapter Four

Chapter Four of Darwin's Theories.

Chapter 4

Darwin opened his vacuum-sealed office door and turned on the lights. His office was a terrible mess, which was normal, but he didn't want Nova to see it like this. So Darwin used an old trick that he learned from his father and simply stacked all of the loose books, papers, empty soda cans and airplane shooters, fast food bags, and the silly toys and action figures he had strewn all over his office and shoved them into a corner. Then he threw his jacket over it. Darwin fished an incense stick from his drawer and lit it, waving it around in hopes that it would cover up the staid air in his office-coffin. He then picked out some of the more prestigious books from his bookshelf and stacked them on his desk to make it appear as if he'd been reading them.

Just as he straightened out his jacket, adjusted the collar under his sweater-vest, and smoothed out his hair, there was a knock at the door. 

"It's open," he called out, sounding as manly as a literature professor could.

With some effort, the metal door opened and Nova entered the office. Darwin's heart began to race when he first saw her because she was even more beautiful than he remembered. True to her namesake, Nova had long, deeply red hair that framed her delicate facial features. She was petite and thin so that when she wore a long winter jacket--as she was now--she looked like she was being swallowed whole. When she entered the room and the heavy door went whoomp shut behind her, she stood there frozen for a moment.

Darwin stood up and crossed the small office to her. They looked at each other in silence. He put his hand up and she took off her coat so he could hang it up for her. She was wearing a black dress, the same one she was wearing when had last seen her. Although she was as pretty as ever, there was something haunting in her countenance that Darwin read as stress. He gestured for her to take the seat normally reserved for distressed students and angry admins and he went back to his chair.

"Hello," said Darwin.

"Hello."

"So. Obviously I got your letter."

"Yes. Thank you for calling and agreeing to help me."

"I agreed to see you," said Darwin somewhat defensively, "but I'm not sure I can help you. I don't know why you think I can; I just figured out something a few years ago out of petty revenge and boredom. I don't know what's happening to you, but the way you put it, it sounds like you're in real trouble."

She was fidgeting with her hands and looking down at them as he spoke. He continued.

"This seems like something you should go to the police with, or even to a regular PI. I'm just an English professor who solved one mystery, once. Why do you think I can help you?"

"Because I trust you." Nova looked up at Darwin and she was crying. "I can't go to the police because I'll lose my license; I can't go to a PI because it's suspicious and again, he would just go to the police. I know you. I know you would never do anything like that to me. I trust you. I need you."

Darwin sat with this for a moment. If you needed me so badly, why did you leave me? he thought, but then immediately dismissed the idea as selfish. If you left me so you could avoid mixing me up in this, then why are you here now? And then he realized the answer: she thought she could avoid mixing him up with this and got to a point where she no longer could. He opened his drawer, found a box of tissues, and handed them to her. She began to dab at her eyes.

"Why don't you tell me about what's going on? Maybe I can start figuring out a solution."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry about everything."

"That's fine. You were just doing what you thought was right. Please, let me know."

"OK," said Nova, taking a deep breath. "It's really silly, actually. It was...it was a professional move. I've been trying to work my way up to being deputy director of cardiology at the hospital, as you know."

He did; she had spoken about it often. It was even part of the first conversation they had at the convention where they met.

"Well, I was approached by two colleagues, Dr. Pendler and Dr. Matthews, some months ago about collaborating on a study together, the one I presented at the convention..."

Darwin took notes as she spoke, underlining the names Dr. Pendler and Dr. Matthews.

"I've been working on possible alternative treatments for collapsed arteries, running drug trials in the lab. I've spent my whole professional career since med school on this; it was my thesis. This is what they wanted me for: they claimed that they found a breakthrough and with my background on the subject, they could get the paper published. And that would be another leg up for me on the director position."

Darwin kept scribbling away notes, already seeing where this was going.

"To get a paper published like this, I would need to produce results that matched the intended effects for their potential treatment. But my results weren't near what they needed to match their potential treatment, so...."

"So you fudged the numbers," said Darwin.

"In so many words, yes. I skewed the results to match. And we presented the paper at that convention, the one we met at."

Darwin sighed. This was an unethical, career-ending misstep. "Go on."

"Well...we presented the paper, and it was accepted for publication in the New England Journal of Medicine. And now I'm being considered for the deputy director position."

"Looks like you got what you wanted."

Tears began to well in her eyes again.

"So two months ago, I got an anonymous letter in my mailbox at work. It was a copy of the paper with my...fudged...numbers circled in red marker and a note that said they knew what I had done, and unless I paid $5000 in cash they would expose me."

Darwin began quickly writing potential attributes a suspect would need to have to figure out the results were fraudulent. Although Drs. Pendler and Matthews were still suspect, they weren't likely to be the blackmailer, since this would damage their careers, as well. Medical students, co-workers at the hospital, educated and angry former patients...

"So you paid the $5000."

"I did," said Nova shamefully. "But I was so happy in life right then. We were together, my career was on the rise, and even if I fudged the numbers, nothing was going to come of the proposed treatment anyway."

"How so?"

"Anyone trying to reproduce the results in a lab would quickly find that there was something wrong with the calculations and results. It would be chalked up as an anomaly. They happen all the time in lab results."

Darwin considered this. Something didn't add up.

"Then why pay the blackmail? If it could be shrugged off as a mistake, no harm, no foul."

Nova fell silent.

"A month later--the week before I disappeared from your life--I received a second blackmail note, again in my mailbox at work. This time, they wanted something else. Not money."

"Then what?" asked Darwin.

"Not money. That's all I want to say. I paid the blackmail and panicked afterwards because it was something that really would ruin my career and probably go to jail. And that's why I left you, because you don't need that kind of trouble."

She began to cry again and Darwin shifted in his seat. There was something awfully wrong about all of this, and he wasn't getting the whole story from Nova.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Find the blackmailer. I've thought constantly about who it might be but it never adds up. It's somebody I don't know but somehow knows me--or at least knows enough about my work that they figured out my lies."

The word lies stung Darwin. She was unethical in her work. Was she also this way in life? He wondered what the hell was wrong with him that he kept getting into relationships with the wrong women. Shaking off his self-centered thoughts, he turned back to the matter at hand.

"I would say go to a real PI, but you don't seem like you want to do that. Are you hoping I'll figure out who the person is without figuring out what it is that you did that's making you so worried?"

"Yes," said Nova.

There was a moment of silence. The exhaust fan whirred in indifference.

"You know that if I can figure out who it is, I'll probably find out what you did, too."

"I've thought of that. If that happens, I'm hoping that you'll still love me anyway."