Page 69 of London
“Where the hell have you been?” he shouted without preamble. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
“Sorry, Giovanni. I forgot to charge the battery on my cellphone last night and it died. Our plane landed a little over an hour ago. I literally just walked in the door. Do you have any news for me?” Not that it would matter if Gerard put his grand plan into play.
“I have earthshatteringnews.”
Linda held her breath. When was the last time Giovanni had sounded so serious?
“What did you find out? Tell me. Did you manage to—”
“I did,” he cut her off. “You won’t believe this. First off, did you know thatSignoreAntonio Capuani owns 51 percent of shares in HOPE?”
“What?” she frowned. “Tony? My ex-husband? He’s the clinic’s majority shareholder?”
“That’s right. He used a shell company, but I tracked it back to him. He’s been the majority shareholder for a couple of years now. There were several emails between him and Jane Orwell—not the explicit kind—but one thing’s very clear. He’s been paying Mrs. Orwell to stall the MHRA and make sure Gerard’s treatment never gets approval to go on the market.”
Too stunned to speak, Linda walked over to the couch and dropped onto it. This was ridiculous. A faint meow came from somewhere upstairs, but she was too upset to worry about Pirata now.
“Why?” Her breathing was shallow, her words mere whispers. It certainly explained why the board hadn’t been pushing for approval. Orwell was getting paid not to do it. “What would he have to gain from that?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’m still digging. I just wanted to let you know about this as soon as I could. Stay away from that bastard, Linda. We can’t use any of this information to go to the police right now, because they’ll want to know how I got it. Once I have more answers, we’ll find a way to expose this whole affair, stop whatever Tony has planned, and help Gerard and the people who need his serum.”
She rubbed her forehead. A vicious headache, compounded by fatigue, drummed its agonizing beat.
“Thank you,fratello. I really appreciate all of this. Please, stay safe. Keep me posted.”
“I will,” Giovanni promised. “Don’t worry, I know how to cover my tracks. In the meantime, if Tony calls you for whatever reason, pretend you don’t know a thing. I know this is a lot to take in.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell Gerard either, until we have more information. If he has a temper, he might just fly to Italy and kill that son of a bitch. Not that I would blame him, but it would be a shame for him to end up in jail because of that scumbag.”
Linda blew out a breath, recalling the encounter outside the gallery on Saturday night. Giovanni was probably right, but didn’t the man have the right to know Mrs. Orwell was one of the people sabotaging him?
“I’ll think about it. I need to mull this over. It’s a lot to consider. Gerard is shrewd, and while he deserves to know, especially after what happened, I’m not sure this is the best time to tell him.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
Linda gestured dismissively, only afterwards realizing he couldn’t see her. Regardless, she didn’t have time to tell him all about the break-in and the theft of Gerard’s backpack.
“It’s a long story, one I’ll tell you all about later. The three of us will have a chat. In the meantime, keep digging—and be careful.”
“You, too. I’ll be in touch, sis.”
She dropped the phone as though it weighed a ton. This was unbelievable. Tony had been the obstacle Gerard’s serum had faced all this time? Why? Jealousy? No, that didn’t make sense. She and Gerard had met just over a week ago. Giovanni had said that Tony had been the major shareholder for two years. That coincided with the time when they’d been married, around the same time she’d discovered HOPE, and had started lending financial support to the clinic—support he’d claimed was a waste.
She had more puzzle pieces, but she couldn’t find a connection to make any of them fit together. It didn’t make sense. Unless… She stood up, moving to the window, the wheels in her head spinning at full power.
What had Gerard said about potentially lifesaving drugs never making it to market? Tony owned a pharmaceutical company. If he got his hands on the serum, he could manufactured the cancer treatment himself and enhance his fortune—or he could see to it the drug never saw the light of day.
She rubbed her temples. If that was the case, instead of blocking its approval with the MHRA, why hadn’t Jane Orwell simply given Tony the formula? Surely she could access Gerard’s secure files on the clinic’s servers?
The truth hit her. Gerard had patented his formula. He owned the rights to it. While HOPE had provided him with the means to develop the serum, the recipe, as it were, was his alone. No one could manufacture it without his permission. Had she given the formula away without Gerard’s consent, HOPE could’ve been involved in a hell of a scandal and lawsuit. Much easier to have it stolen directly from him. So maybe Tony had bribed Mrs. Orwell to slow down the approval process, hoping he would get his hands on the formula some other way. But did that even make sense?
Linda leaned her forehead against the window, staring at her own reflection. So many questions and not a single answer that made any kind of sense. Outside, darkness had fallen. As one, the lights in the garden blinked on, startling her.
Pirata meowed again. What was he doing upstairs? Had Mrs. Adams accidentally closed the door with him inside the bedroom? She shook her head. Something else that made no sense.
About to turn away and go rescue her poor baby, she stopped cold. Hers wasn’t the only reflection in the window. Linda turned to face her intruder.
Tony stepped toward her. As usual, he wore one of his signature gray, sharkskin suits, a black shirt, and a silver-toned tie. His leather shoes were as polished as his brilliant smile. But her gaze wasn’t drawn to his mouth, his bruised and swollen nose, or his cold, dark eyes. Instead her eyes were fixed on the deadly-looking gun he held in his black leather gloved hand—a gun pointed right at her.
“Ciao, cara,” he said, his voice as smooth and as charming as ever.
