A Course in Deception

By Jana Rieger

Jana Rieger uses her academic background to tell a chilling story of betrayal as seen through the eyes of Dr. Mackenzie Smith, who is devastated when a young colleague, Anbu
Mathew, dies in a suspicious accident. When Mackenzie begins to find disturbing messages that Anbu left behind about the latest drug trial in the sleep clinic, she vows to solve his mystery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jana Rieger
• Release date: Feb 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781773025292

Book preview

Dedication:

For my loving mother, Rose, who was never without a book by her side, a prayer in her heart, and a miracle just around the corner.

Chapter 1

the phone call

Two words, DONT WALK, flashed in red. It was one of those moments. Break the law or be late? I teetered on the curb before coming to a full stop. Too many rules already had been broken. I backed up out of the hot July sun, into the shade cast by a high rise, and caught my breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Ignore the research ethics building across the street. It’s just concrete and glass. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. In through the nose, down to the solar plexus. When I peeked to check the traffic light, the ethics building was still looming. So were purple storm clouds in the distance. I squeezed my eyes shut. In through the nose, and – ping – down to the ringing phone in my pocket. There was no hello. Just Anbu’s voice, an octave higher than usual. On the road beside me, the diesel clatter of an Edmonton city bus was drowning out Anbu’s voice.

The light turned green. WALK.

I pressed the phone against my ear and asked Anbu to repeat while I stepped off the curb. He shouted, but the pressure burst from the bus’s air brakes obscured his message. The last thing I heard was, well, I’m not sure what it was. The fact that I couldn’t understand what seemed to be a simple message had nothing to do with Anbu’s South Indian heritage. He was educated in British Schools and spoke the Queen’s English. Even in light of that, the only words I could make out were ‘save the rays’. Or maybe it was ‘say a raise’. Whatever it was, I had to know. I asked him to repeat.

Static.

Hello? Bu? You there?

Silence.

I’d lost him.

The entrance doors of the ethics building slid open to let me step inside. I thought for a moment of Jonah in the whale’s belly. I, too, needed to calm the storm that had risen around me. I dialed Anbu’s cell and dashed up the stairs to the second floor. He should’ve been going into the meeting with me instead of driving from Edmonton to that conference in Calgary. Never mind the fact that his car was held together by duct tape and, earlier in the morning, there’d been a tornado watch issued for the province. Even a strong gust of wind would surely rip the bumpers from that car. Then all four doors would fall off, the tires would go rolling, and Anbu would be sitting there with only the steering wheel in his hands.

At the top of the stairs, all I got was his voice recording saying that he was sorry to have missed my call, that I should leave a message. The beep to do so came just as I got to the reception area.

Text me, I said and hung up.

Before I could say anything, the woman behind the reception desk stood and said, Right this way, Dr. Smith. They’ve been waiting for you.

Dr. William Clement, the chair of the animal welfare committee, was sitting at the head of the table. In front of him, two file folders thick with accusations against me. He didn’t look up when I entered the room. Drs Luke Hesuvius and Jerome Schlemmer, two of my colleagues from the sleep clinic, were seated on either side of him. Luke smiled and winked. Schlemmer, being Schlemmer, sat and scowled.

I took my place at the table. William lowered his head into his hands and sighed. His scalp shone through his thin grey hair. Was he ever going to acknowledge my presence?

The air conditioner shut off with a bang. The room was dead silent.

Schlemmer looked at his watch. Can we get on with this?

William leaned back in his chair and ran his hands down his face. Trying to close the curtain on the scene, perhaps. There would be hell to pay if anyone from CAFÉ, the Citizens for Animal Freedom and Ethics, ever found out about this.

So, let me get this right. William looked at Schlemmer, the most senior of all of us. You were trying to fatten your rats by force feeding.

Schlemmer pointed to me and said, Mackenzie’s rats.

William glared at him. Are you saying you have nothing to do with this?

Schlemmer sat plumb straight in his chair. That’s exactly what I’m saying.

Well perhaps you could explain to me. Because there are so many layers in these files, I can’t see straight.

Luke and I run the clinic, Schlemmer said. We don’t babysit rodents.

Luke smiled and leaned forward. Let me elaborate. He waited for William to look at him instead of Schlemmer. Jerome and I started the sleep clinic. Luke said, still smiling. We do clinical research. With patients. Mackenzie joined us to extend that. She’s our animal branch. Unfortunately, Jerome and I are fairly uninformed when it comes to animals, but we certainly support Mackenzie’s work.

Yes. William nodded and mirrored Luke’s smile. It wasn’t sincere, though. Your names are certainly on this ethics proposal. An animal ethics proposal.

You know administrative structures around here, Luke smiled. It was politically necessary.

William looked to me. Finally. Do tell your version of the story, Mackenzie.

My version was fairly simple. There’s a relationship between obesity and sleep apnea. I wanted to understand it better. We were force feeding rats a mixture of oil, dairy, and starch. A diet any rat would dream of. They didn’t care how it got in there. All they knew was that they had a full warm belly. And all they had to do was open their mouth. If I were a rat, I’d be pretty happy about that.

And, somehow, William said, the tube was fed through their mouth and into their lungs, instead of their stomach.

Yes.

So, basically, they were drowned in food.

Drowned. That sounded so harsh. Did he really need to put it that way? We’d done hundreds of these feeds, always with the utmost care, and never with a problem. Something went wrong, though. The independent report of their deaths said they died of ‘aspiration and eventual asphyxiation from a food substance’. So, what could I do? The evidence would suggest that the tube went down the wrong hole. Couldn’t deny that.

You’re admitting, then, William said, that you or your staff – outside of your colleagues here, of course – were incompetent?

My phone vibrated. A text message had arrived. I wanted to look, but William was waiting for an answer. My only saving grace was to point out that Anbu’s documentation in the lab book proved all four rats were fine, even two hours after their last feed. I reminded everyone that, if the tube really did go down the wrong hole, the rats would’ve been in distress immediately.

Well, then, William said, how do you explain their deaths?

My phone vibrated again. I slid it out of my pocket and glanced down. It was my husband, Steven, asking if we needed eggs.

Something more pressing? William asked.

No, of course not. I slipped the phone back into my pocket. Their deaths. I’d been over and over it, in my head and with Anbu. I’d tossed and turned at night for the past month trying to figure it out. I thought of it when I ate my bran flakes in the morning. I thought of it when I wiped off my mascara at night. I even thought of it when Steven stood at the end of the bed, naked, and flexed his muscles.

I’m sorry, I said, but, there’s no good explanation.

You’re going to have to do better than that, William said. If there’s nowhere to point a finger, it’ll be pointing at you.

Why Mackenzie? Luke interjected. She wasn’t the only one working with the rats.

You suggesting Anbu was responsible? William asked.

Before Luke could say anything, Schlemmer jumped in. He said how conscientious and thorough Anbu was in everything he did. I nodded. Reluctantly. Not because I disagreed. Anbu was the best research associate I’d ever had. It just felt wrong to agree with Schlemmer.

Here’s the problem, William said, an entry in a lab book is weak evidence.

It’s all we have, I said.

Nothing more objective? William asked.

No.

No video evidence?

The only video camera we have is on the main lab door. Not on the rats.

Look, Luke said, Mackenzie did everything by the book.

Schlemmer shook his head. "That won’t help when CAFÉ gets wind of this. He leaned back and mumbled, Can’t believe my name is on the ethics application."

You were happy to have it there when you thought it’d be good for you, I said.

Listen, Luke said, Mackenzie had a spotless record. William, you even said so, before she got here.

My phone buzzed again. I slipped it out of my pocket and tried to look down without moving my head. A text had arrived from 888-888-8888. ‘We know about your rats. Love CAFÉ’.

Shit.

Doesn’t matter, William said. We need an explanation.

I stuffed the phone back in my pocket. I don’t have one. However, I can tell you that I won’t force feed. Ever again.

William laughed. "Well you’re right about one thing. You will never force feed again. I had four people review this case. Two recommended shutting down your lab."

But this –

Two were a bit more lenient. William’s eyes pierced into me. I get the deciding vote.

Hold on, Luke said. Mackenzie’s research is vital. Shutting it down because a few rats died would be a mistake.

Schlemmer slapped his hand down on the table. "Neglecting our reputation would be a mistake. We sure as hell don’t need to be on the receiving end of CAFÉ. Just because of some choking rodents."

"CAFÉ has no way of knowing," Luke said.

A sting ripped through my chest, down to my gut.

Let’s focus on the facts, Luke said. Anbu was the one responsible for feeding the rats. Why isn’t he here?

Luke knew exactly why Anbu wasn’t there. Luke was, after all, the one who insisted that Anbu go to the conference in Calgary that morning. Whatever Luke was up to, I’d learned long ago not to question. He always set up situations beautifully so that people said and did things he desired without it dawning on them until months or even years later.

William looked at me. Well?

Let me check my email. Anbu was supposed to send a document for today’s meeting.

The download indicator on my phone swirled, round and round.

Anything? Luke asked.

I shook my head.

Schlemmer mumbled something about a waste of time at the same moment that a flash of lightning turned the walls blue.

My email notification finally chimed and six messages downloaded, but not one was from Anbu. Sorry. Nothing.

Thunder shook the room.

So, what you are all telling me, William said as hail pellets ticked against the window, is that Mackenzie never fed the rats, that Anbu was responsible, and that he had something to say, but isn’t here. Things seem pretty clear to me.

No, I said. Anbu did not have anything to do with this.

Are you saying, then, that you did? William asked.

No.

Are you saying that your lab was compromised by someone else?

No.

Then what are you saying?

I’m saying I don’t know. We really need to hear from Anbu.

Well, he should’ve been here today, and he’s not. That says something. William scribbled down several points. The hail hit the window with more ferocity while he wrote. Finally, he put down his pen. Here’s how this will work. One, no force feeding. Two, animal research recertification for you and all lab staff. Except Anbu. He’s suspended indefinitely from handling animals, and I strongly recommend he be dismissed. Three, random audits for a period of at least one year. Four, any future incidents and you’re shut down. Five, pray this doesn’t get out.

Schlemmer blew a puff of air through his nose. I’ll be the first one kneeling. He stood to leave and pulled hard on the handle of the glass door. It didn’t budge. He pulled again, so hard that the glass vibrated inside the metal frame. He huffed and must’ve finally noticed the arrow on the glass. He slid the handle to the side. The door glided open in the track.

He was trying to bury me, I said, while Luke and I walked back to our faculty building.

No. He was just being Schlemmer.

Like I said. I kicked a small pebble. Why does he despise me so much?

He doesn’t.

No? Did you see the looks he was throwing me? I should check for puncture wounds.

Luke laughed.

"From day one, he’s despised me. I’m only a lowly PhD. He’s an MD."

I’m an MD. I certainly don’t despise you. Luke flicked his eyebrows at me.

I shook my head and tried not to smile. We had reached Luke’s office door. He was about to ask me something when a young woman with flaming red hair bumped him. A wide open corridor and she managed to run into him. She smiled and put her hand over her heart. I’m so sorry, Dr. Hesuvius. He smiled back and told her not to worry.

Luke watched her walk away. Anyway. Why are you worried about what Schlemmer did or didn’t say? The result was much better than we could have imagined.

Are you kidding? I am so under the gun now, and I feel horrible about Anbu.

I’m sorry if it seemed like I was being hard on him. I just didn’t like the way things were turning against you. Better him suspended than you. He’ll come forward with information that helps his case.

What if he doesn’t?

He will.

He was trying to tell me something just before the meeting, but his phone died. I still haven’t heard back from him.

He’s fine. As fine as when I saw him at Tim Hortons this morning.

You saw him? Did he say anything?

Just that he needed some caffeine, because it was early and he was tired.

I looked at my watch. He should be in Calgary by now.

Don’t forget, that thing he calls a car has a top speed of ninety kilometers.

Be nice. He’s got a wife and child to support. Speaking of which, I won’t be able to join you for drinks after work.

Luke pretended to pout.

Anbu asked me to check in on them. You know how he worries about Rubee, since she had the baby. I told him I’d bring her dinner.

Luke gave me a hug and told me how relieved he was that this situation was over. While he walked away, the text from CAFÉ flashed in my mind. I needed to talk to Anbu before they got in touch with William. Or worse, the media.

Chapter 2

deadly news

I stooped under the front door’s overhang and rang the bell. The bag of Chinese takeout was getting heavy, and I was getting soaked. If Rubee didn’t hurry, I’d sit down on the wet steps and eat it all. Rain or no rain. It’d been a long day, and my stomach was aching. Hard to tell if it was from skipping lunch or from worrying about CAFÉ, not to mention Anbu. I still hadn’t heard from him.

The lock clicked and the door opened, just enough to let in a beetle.

Hello? I said.

Rubee peeked through the crack. It had taken several years for her to feel at ease with me, seeing as how I was Anbu’s supervisor. She and I had come a long way and enjoyed each other’s company immensely, yet there was still this shyness about her. Even when I had said I’d like to call her Bee, just like Anbu did, and she could call me Mack, she had shaken her head no and said she couldn’t possibly. Anbu reassured me that it was just how things were done at home in India.

Hi Bee.

She smiled, like she always did when I called her that, and whispered for me to come in.

I pushed the door gently and poked my head around it. Her cocoa-colored eyes met me on the other side. They were sunk deep and her brown skin looked sallow. Three-month-old Emily was sleeping on her shoulder.

Rubee stepped back to let me enter. I wasn’t expecting you. She looked down at the bunny rabbit slippers on her feet and then back to me. I’m sorry. Anbu bought them for me. I feel like I must wear them. She smiled softly.

They’re perfect. I set down the bag of food and removed my wet jacket. Didn’t Bu tell you I was going to bring dinner?

She sighed. No. He’s been too busy.

I put my hand on Emily’s warm back. Looks like you’ve been busy too.

Yes. Come. She turned and waved her hand for me to follow. Her slippers scuffed across the hardwood floor. She was heading towards the kitchen.

Bee, you just sit. I’ll get this ready.

No, no.

I insist.

She nodded. Thank you. She went to the couch and sat gently. Emily didn’t flinch.

Have you heard from Anbu? I said.

No. She rested her head against the couch pillow. But he never calls until Emily’s bedtime.

I checked my watch. Didn’t all babies go to bed around this time?

Rubee and her bunnies stared up at the ceiling. I told her to stay there. In the kitchen, both sinks were piled with bowls and plates. The counter was buried under rubber nipples and plastic baby bottles. One nipple had fallen to the floor. I picked it up and unravelled a long black hair from the tip. This was not the way Rubee and Anbu kept things. Anbu was a clean freak. Rubee did the cooking. He did the cleaning. I knew he had been preoccupied with the rat issue, but I didn’t think it was this bad.

Sorry about the mess, Rubee called from the living room. I peeked around the corner. She was still staring at the ceiling.

Don’t apologize. I can’t even begin to imagine. Nor did I want to. A sixty-pound dog was enough for Steven and me.

When I set the plates of food on the coffee table, Rubee sat forward. I offered to take Emily, who squirmed while she sank into my arms. Her head was warm and smelled sweet. I asked if I could put her to bed.

Oh yes, Dr. Mackenzie. She is so very tired. Rubee sighed. And so am I. She smiled. I appreciate your kind gesture.

I rocked Emily on the way to her bedroom and didn’t lay her in the crib until her eyes were closing. It didn’t take long.

Back in the living room, Rubee was using chopsticks to scoop the food into her mouth.

Glad you like it, I said.

She smiled and swallowed. It tastes better when you don’t have to cook.

Bu should cook you some meals.

She nodded and took another bite of food.

It’s been a tough time, I said.

Rubee stopped chewing and stared.

I’m just guessing, I said, with the rat issue and all.

She wiped her lips with a napkin. Did he talk to you?

We got cut off today. Why?

No reason.

Sounded like he wanted to tell me something about work. Do you know what it might be?

He does not share details of his work. Rubee switched the topic to how she and Anbu would like to go back to Kerala, their state in South India, to have Emily baptized with their families. Anbu was a devout Catholic, as was Rubee. This had surprised me when I first met them. Bu was so pleased to educate me on how many people in Kerala were Catholic. And, even though he didn’t say so, it seemed like he found comfort knowing that I, too, had been raised Catholic. The difference between him and me was that it had been years since I’d been in a church.

Dr. Mackenzie, I hate to ask this, but would you mind terribly if I took a shower while you are here. It is just so hard with Emily.

Go right ahead.

I took the plates to the kitchen, while she slipped down the hall. Anbu’s office was next to the bathroom. Maybe there was something in there. Just laying on top of his desk, waiting for me to find it. I started clearing dishes from one sink while I waited for the shower to start. Just as it did, the doorbell rang. I ignored it and made my way towards Anbu’s office.

Whoever was at the door started pounding, so loudly that they were going to wake Emily.

I tiptoed back to the front entrance and looked through the peephole. Two police officers stood with stone faces. I opened the door. They didn’t move. Fat drops of rain beaded on the plastic brim of their caps. A Royal Canadian Mounted Police badge was fixed right above each of their brims, on top a yellow band. The bumble bee color of the band matched the stripe that ran down the outside of each of their pant legs.

Good evening, ma’am, the taller one said. I’m Constable Thickett and this is Constable Chung. Are you Mrs. Mathew?

No.

Is she home?

Yes.

May we speak with her?

She’s in the shower.

A crack of thunder shook the house. Emily started to cry.

May we come in and wait?

Yes. Of course.

They both stepped inside and removed their hats. Are you family?

No. I work with her husband.

Anbu Mathew?

Emily was now in a fit.

Yes. Why?

We need to talk to Mrs. Mathew.

I told them they were welcome to wait on the couch. One constable sat where Rubee had been staring up at the ceiling just an