Page 80 of I’ll Be Watching You

“This is not solely about the drug trial.” How could I get her to talk to us? How did I bring up our investigation into Klein’s death?

Jack said bluntly, “Our father, as you know, confessed to killing Dr. Devin Klein. New evidence suggests that he may be innocent, and now we’re asking questions that the police didn’t ask three and a half years ago. An anonymous source sent us information that Dr. Klein planned to blow the whistle on a specific drug trial right before he was killed. We asked our father about it, and he came clean. He said yes, it was true, and he confessed because he was threatened. All we need is a few minutes of your time to understand the process. Please, for our dad, can you help us?”

Jack surprised me. He laid out some truths and some fiction. My brother does not lie easily, but he sounded completely honest.

Mildred stared at Jack for a long ten seconds. Then she said, “As much as I can. There are some things I am simply not allowed to divulge, but if I can help, I will.”

“Thank you,” Jack said with a small smile. “We really appreciate it.”

Mildred led us into her well-appointed home, bright with natural light coming from ample windows. She motioned for us to sit in the living room, which was right off the tile foyer.

Everything was very white and modern. I was almost afraid to sit down.

But I sat on the white leather couch, Jack next to me. Mildred took a chair across from us. The only color in the room were two towering green ficus trees in terra-cotta pots on either side of the plate glass window, and a contemporary green-and-blue seascape that took up the bulk of the opposite wall.

I couldn’t tell if the trees were real or fake.

“What do you think I can help you with?” Mildred asked with mild curiosity.

“You were the director of research when Dr. Klein was killed, correct?” Jack asked, pulling out a small notepad. He looked all cop, even though he was dressed in khakis and a navy polo shirt.

“Yes,” she said.

“Did you work closely with Dr. Klein?”

“No. I didn’t work directly with any of the doctors. I was an administrator, which essentially meant glorified paper pusher.” She smiled in a self-deprecating way. “I’m not minimizing my position, I had several roles, the primary one being to bring in research projects to the VA medical center here in Phoenix. More research meant more grants meant more overall funding into our program.”

“Did you approve the research projects?”

“Yes, when one of my staff members brought a project to me they would create a specific report and I would review it. I’d call them in, ask questions, and either approve or reject the project. Sometimes I would send them back to gather more information. It was important that any project have a direct benefit to the veterans’ community.”

While Jack questioned, I watched. Mildred Maddox seemed forthcoming. I was looking for any reason to disbelieve what she said, but didn’t see anything.

Jack said, “If a doctor or researcher felt there was a problem with any of the research projects, would they come to you directly?”

She hesitated, shook her head. “Probably not,” she said. “I had a half dozen staff members who handled the day-to-day details for their specific projects.”

“Do you know who managed the—” Jack looked at his notes “—the BN-432 Phase 1 trial with Neurovantix?”

She said, “I don’t know off the top of my head, it’s been a few years, and even if I did, I wouldn’t share that information. You can request specifics through the Freedom of Information Act.”

“Do you remember Peter Stockman?” I asked.

“Of course. He took over my position when I retired.”

“Was he involved in the Neurovantix trial?”

“I don’t know for certain. You can ask him, but he’ll tell you the same thing—he can’t discuss individual trials. All information that is required to be public would likely have been made public when the trial concluded, but I couldn’t even tell you what happened with that one. You know, I was directly involved with a very successful drug development project early on at the VA. It almost completely eliminated phantom limb pain for our amputees. A huge success.”

Complete non sequitur. I looked closely at Mildred. She was smiling sweetly. Was she all there? She spoke clearly, intelligently, but that comment seemed out of left field.

Jack glanced at me. He noticed it as well. He said, “New evidence has come to light that Dr. Klein consulted with another doctor within the VA system about the Neurovantix trial. That doctor has brought up concerns about the original trial, stating that Dr. Klein was going to expose inconsistencies in the program.”

Mildred frowned, her brows furrowed. She looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“He was going to be a whistleblower,” Jack repeated.

She blinked slowly twice. “Okay. Did he?”