Kaleidoscope
When Martin Bower, CEO of financially troubled Coastal Regional Hospital, is fired and charged with embezzling millions of dollars, he turns to his old friend, prominent criminal defense attorney Lucius White. Opposing White is the ambitious, win-at-any-cost U.S. Attorney Elizabeth Powell, a/k/a the “Ice Princess,” who is being assisted, behind the scenes, by the hospital’s attorney who is working with the prosecutor to ensure Bower’s conviction
As they seek the truth about the reason for Bower’s termination and the embezzlement charges against him, White and his investigator, computer wizard Horse McGee, follow a Byzantine labyrinth of seemingly unrelated clues culminating in the discovery of an elaborate plan, orchestrated by the hospital’s attorneys, to frame Bower and take over the hospital.
While White and McGee investigate the charges against Bower, Leslie Halloran, social-activist attorney and White’s live-in lover, investigates the seemingly unrelated thefts of AIDS drugs from local clinics. Their investigations appear to merge with the discovery that both the banker who established the accounts to which Bower ostensibly transferred the embezzled funds and the doctor who was treating him for AIDS with drugs stolen from the hospital have both been murdered.
The overlapping investigations are only preluded to the dramatic trial during which a key witness is murdered. Only then does the last clue linking all of the crimes fall into place.
REVIEWS: Editor for best-selling author:“One of the best first novels I’ve ever edited.”; Trial judge and crime book author:“Most realistic presentation of a criminal trial I’ve ever read,”; Former Federal Prosecutor:“… better than Grisham …”; Court Reporter: “… great suspense builder with an intricately woven plot …”; Federal Public Defender:“… outstanding story with great conflict development …”; Law Book Editor:“… wonderful characters with great plot tension …”; Criminal Defense Attorney:“I was hooked from beginning to end.”
Martin Bower, CEO of Coastal Regional Hospital, stood silently beside the picture window of his fifth-floor office. For twenty minutes, he had remained on the same spot, struggling to understand the events of the last three hours.
In the courtyard between the executive tower and the main hospital, the first signs of spring could be seen in the blades of new grass struggling to establish themselves. Buds were emerging on the orange and grapefruit trees. In another week, maybe two, they would be in bloom. At the tables scattered among the gardens, friends and families visited with patients, and candy stripers attended to the needs of a few patients in wheelchairs.
On any other day, he would have looked down on the scene with a sense of pride. But not today. Today, he had other things on his mind.
When he had been hired, the hospital was nothing but fifty acres of dirt and a dream — a dream he had adopted his own. Fifteen years of long days, weekends and holidays had cost him two marriages and a heart attack, but it had all been worth it. The state-of-the-art facility he had built was the pride of the community.
Now everything was in danger collapsing. The hospital was in financial trouble. Bowers aggressive expansion plans were straining its resources. Reductions in government reimbursements and insurance payments were squeezing revenues. A merger seemed to be the only path to survival, but the board was hopelessly divided over how to proceed.
The call announcing a special meeting of the board of directors wasn’t unusual. Board decisions were required with increasing frequency to address a seemingly endless array of issues requiring emergency actions. What now concerned Bower was the vote, taken at the beginning of the meeting, to convene in an executive session from which he was excluded.
Bower turned from the window, crossed the room and reached for the pack of cigarettes laying on his desk. His hand shook as he held a match to the cigarette. He took one drag before cramming the remainder into the ashtray. He crumpled the half-empty pack and hurled it into the brass trashcan beside his desk.
The events of the past weeks had taken their toll. The committee responsible for renegotiating his employment contract — and the multimillion-dollar severance package he would receive if the merger went through — had canceled several meetings without explanation. The hospital’s lawyers had also, for no apparent reason, renewed objections to terms that had previously been agreed to. They said it was just business, but he that knew something more, something personal, was involved.
His ruminations were interrupted by a knock on the door. “We’re ready to start,” the board chairman announced. His voice was cool and distant, not the voice of someone Bower had worked with for years and considered to be a friend.
Bower trailed the chairman down the hallway. Outside the boardroom, two guards were waiting. Bower didn’t recognize either of them, but that wasn’t unusual. He knew everyone on the medical staff — doctors, nurses, and technicians — but others were responsible for the rest of the hospital operations.
The guards followed Bower and the chairman into the room and closed the door.
None of the usual smiles and friendly comments greeted him as he took his customary seat at the end of the conference table. Instead, the heads of all of the board members were bent over intensely examining what appeared to be a one-page meeting agenda. Even Kathryn Ward, his personal secretary, who was also secretary to the board, refused to make eye contact with him.
“Let’s make this quick.” the chairman said. In spite of the coolness of the room, small beads of perspiration dotted his bald head. Without looking at Bower, he began reading from the sheet of paper in front of him. “It is hereby resolved that, as a result of the discovery of serious irregularities in the hospital’s financial records, the services of Martin Bower as chief executive officer be terminated immediately.”
It took a moment for Bower to process what the chairman had said. Fired! He could feel his heart pounding, and fought to control his breathing. His hands clenched the armrests of his chair, and he was only vaguely aware that the chairman was still talking. “The Board further resolves that state and federal authorities be asked to investigate the theft of approximately three million dollars from the hospital. All those in favor, signify by saying ‘aye.’”
Eleven solemn ‘ayes.’ Through the tangle of emotions that filled his mind, Bower was only faintly aware of one ‘nay.’ He looked across the table at the grim face of Dr. John Wiley. Wiley cocked his head and gave a feeble shrug of his shoulders. His expression said it all. There wasn’t anything I could do.
Bower’s eyes circled the table, looking for … something. Whatever it was, he didn’t find it in the faces of the board members who, buoyed their collective action, were now focused on him.
Why hadn’t he seen it coming? Were there signs that he had missed? What could he have done differently?
He knew they expected him to say something. He wanted to say something. Within him, words stirred and sentences formed, but he couldn’t will himself to speak. There wasn’t any point. Nothing he might say could change what had happened. It was over, and he knew it.
“The guards will escort you out of the building.”
Bower remained seated, motionless and speechless until one of the guards gripped his arm. As he stood and slowly turned toward the door, he saw Joe Morgan, in-house counsel, and Randall Harrington, outside counsel, and a partner in Johnson, Kutter & Stump, sitting together in the corner. Morgan was studying the floor, avoiding eye contact. Harrington stared directly at Bower. He had an imperious, self-congratulatory sneer on his face. Bower couldn’t avoid thinking, “Is that what Judas looked like”