On an Autumn Evening in Manhattan, Fifty Million Dollars Signed Away Eleven Long Years
The paper envelope was still sealed with white tape, its corner stamped with the St.
Jude clinic mark.
I had turned down Nora’s advice to release Spencer’s diagnostic files to the financial press in Manhattan.
The board had removed Spencer from executive management on the strength of Vance’s affidavit, and the public cover-up was finished.
There was no reason to hand his failure over to the newspapers.
Theo came out onto the open terrace with two clear glasses and a pitcher of cold water.
The ocean wind had died down, leaving the Pacific flat and gray under a pale orange sky.
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