Hispanic accent but her English was strong.
A very difficult topic, Sloane thought. “I recently had a case in which a young boy got sick. His parents thought it was the flu and took him to the doctor, but he never got better. He got worse. By the time they brought him to the hospital it was too late. He died.”
The woman stiffened and took a step back from the door, her ponytail swinging as she turned, shouting in Spanish, but which Sloane understood. “Manny, there is a man at the door asking about Mateo.”
A Hispanic man, short but well built through the shoulders, appeared to the woman’s right, and she handed him Sloane’s business card as she told him in Spanish what Sloane had just said.
Manny looked to Sloane, hands on his hips, the Seattle Seahawk helmet on his blue shirt sticking out. “What do you want with Mateo?” His accent was thicker than his wife’s.
“I was telling your wife that I represent a family who also has lost their son. He died of symptoms very similar to the symptoms the newspaper reported your son suffered. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
The man shook his head. “No. We do not talk about it.”
“I know it must be incredibly difficult—”
Manny shook his head, already closing the door. “We do not talk about it.”
“Please, just one question, not about your son.”
Manny hesitated, hand on the edge of the door.
Sloane removed Horgan’s manila file from his briefcase and pulled out the best sketch of Metamorphis. “Have you ever seen this before?”
Manny shot his wife a side glance and appeared about to answer but his wife stopped him, again speaking Spanish.
“No. The attorney said we cannot say anything, that it will be very bad for us. Do you want us to raise our children in Mexico? There is nothing for us there. Mateo is gone. We cannot bring him back.”
Manny lowered his head. “No. We do not see before,” he said. Then he stepped back and shut the door.
PRODUCT SAFETY AGENCY
BETHESDA, MARYLAND
ANNE LEROY HAD come to work excited, as she had each day for the past three months. With her degrees in engineering and product design from Georgetown University, her friends thought she was nuts when LeRoy told them she was going to work for a government regulatory agency. She could make three times her salary in the private sector. Call her naïve, but attwenty-four LeRoy didn’t want to be making life decisions based on the almighty dollar. Hadn’t that been the new president’s message? If people believed they could make a difference, they would, and that was the best way to ensure change.
And now LeRoy was about to prove him right.
She knocked on the open door and stuck her head in the office. “You wanted to see me.”
Albert Payne diverted his attention from his computer screen and looked up.
LeRoy paused, taken aback. Dark bags sagged beneath Payne’s eyes, accentuated by a pasty white complexion with pronounced red splotches on his neck. He looked as though he had aged ten years in the three weeks he had been gone. She wondered if he had picked up the flu on his trip to China, or food poisoning.
“Come in and sit down,” he said.
She made her way to one of the two chairs across from him, placing the two-inch-thick document she carried on her lap. “How was your trip? Is it as bad over there as everyone says?”
Payne cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you about your investigation.”
LeRoy immediately perked up, as she had that fateful morning when she fielded a cold call from a preschool teacher in Shakopee, Minnesota. The woman told LeRoy that a child in her care had swallowed a magnet no bigger than an aspirin from a broken toy and she was concerned enough that she had called the parents and suggested they take the child to the doctor. Although the doctor had assured the parents the child would be fine and would excrete the magnet, the preschool teacher remained upset. She said the toy came in a box that did not
A very difficult topic, Sloane thought. “I recently had a case in which a young boy got sick. His parents thought it was the flu and took him to the doctor, but he never got better. He got worse. By the time they brought him to the hospital it was too late. He died.”
The woman stiffened and took a step back from the door, her ponytail swinging as she turned, shouting in Spanish, but which Sloane understood. “Manny, there is a man at the door asking about Mateo.”
A Hispanic man, short but well built through the shoulders, appeared to the woman’s right, and she handed him Sloane’s business card as she told him in Spanish what Sloane had just said.
Manny looked to Sloane, hands on his hips, the Seattle Seahawk helmet on his blue shirt sticking out. “What do you want with Mateo?” His accent was thicker than his wife’s.
“I was telling your wife that I represent a family who also has lost their son. He died of symptoms very similar to the symptoms the newspaper reported your son suffered. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
The man shook his head. “No. We do not talk about it.”
“I know it must be incredibly difficult—”
Manny shook his head, already closing the door. “We do not talk about it.”
“Please, just one question, not about your son.”
Manny hesitated, hand on the edge of the door.
Sloane removed Horgan’s manila file from his briefcase and pulled out the best sketch of Metamorphis. “Have you ever seen this before?”
Manny shot his wife a side glance and appeared about to answer but his wife stopped him, again speaking Spanish.
“No. The attorney said we cannot say anything, that it will be very bad for us. Do you want us to raise our children in Mexico? There is nothing for us there. Mateo is gone. We cannot bring him back.”
Manny lowered his head. “No. We do not see before,” he said. Then he stepped back and shut the door.
PRODUCT SAFETY AGENCY
BETHESDA, MARYLAND
ANNE LEROY HAD come to work excited, as she had each day for the past three months. With her degrees in engineering and product design from Georgetown University, her friends thought she was nuts when LeRoy told them she was going to work for a government regulatory agency. She could make three times her salary in the private sector. Call her naïve, but attwenty-four LeRoy didn’t want to be making life decisions based on the almighty dollar. Hadn’t that been the new president’s message? If people believed they could make a difference, they would, and that was the best way to ensure change.
And now LeRoy was about to prove him right.
She knocked on the open door and stuck her head in the office. “You wanted to see me.”
Albert Payne diverted his attention from his computer screen and looked up.
LeRoy paused, taken aback. Dark bags sagged beneath Payne’s eyes, accentuated by a pasty white complexion with pronounced red splotches on his neck. He looked as though he had aged ten years in the three weeks he had been gone. She wondered if he had picked up the flu on his trip to China, or food poisoning.
“Come in and sit down,” he said.
She made her way to one of the two chairs across from him, placing the two-inch-thick document she carried on her lap. “How was your trip? Is it as bad over there as everyone says?”
Payne cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you about your investigation.”
LeRoy immediately perked up, as she had that fateful morning when she fielded a cold call from a preschool teacher in Shakopee, Minnesota. The woman told LeRoy that a child in her care had swallowed a magnet no bigger than an aspirin from a broken toy and she was concerned enough that she had called the parents and suggested they take the child to the doctor. Although the doctor had assured the parents the child would be fine and would excrete the magnet, the preschool teacher remained upset. She said the toy came in a box that did not
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