Chapter 14
Wednesday, 09 March 2022 – 5:45
p.m. MST
Quinn sat in his favorite leather chair in his collection
room as he waited for Valerie and Ramesh to return. Laura always told him that
the chair was worn out and looked terrible. She said that it had to go. Quinn
argued that it was a classic, a point that he always punctuated with a
smile. It was a comfortable chair – old, faded and torn in places, but
comfortable.
He spent as much of his free time as possible in his
collection room. He had always been an avid fan of Star Wars and he had
amassed a huge collection of action figures, accessories and other memorabilia
related to the movies. When he had time, he would meticulously re-create
sequences from the movies into large dioramas. He was currently working on a
reconstruction of the stadium scene surrounding the pod races. It was the most
aggressive project he had undertaken since an accurate recreation would require
hundreds of extra figures to populate the stadium, but it kept his mind busy
and he loved the distraction.
As he sat in his chair carefully painting details onto one
of the model pods, Ramesh and Valerie knocked and then entered. Quinn stood
quickly. He still occasionally felt a tinge of embarrassment when someone new
was introduced to his hobby.
“Working hard?” Valerie chided.
Quinn smiled and simply left the room. He could see the
look of astonishment in Ramesh, but decided to leave it. He flicked off the
light in the room and pulled the door shut.
They returned to the conference room and Quinn sat at the
table. Directly in front of them, the wall was divided into several
viewscreens. One showed an early-morning interview with Sireesha Naidu. Three
other segments of the display showed news stories about the recent deaths of
children who had died under inexplicable circumstances. The three children
apparently had nothing in common with each other, but had died at nearly the
exact same time on the same day.
“Ramesh told me some interesting things about you during our
tour,” Valerie said as she winked at Ramesh.
“I’m sure he did,” responded Quinn. “But, I’ll make sure
that he gets a little dirt about you, to even the score.” He then motioned to
Ramesh to have a seat.
“You know I’m squeaky clean, Quinn,” Valerie said as she crossed
the room toward the door. She cast a sidelong glance at him as she passed and
smiled. “If you don’t need me this evening, I’m just going to finish a few
things and go home.”
“Thanks for all your help today, Val,” Quinn answered. He was
always sincere about how much he relied on Valerie. “If you don’t mind, have
something sent up here for dinner on your way out. We’re going to be here for
a while, I think.”
“Sure thing.” Valerie gathered some folders and a few notes
then left. “Good night, you two. Don’t work too hard,” she called back as she
left the room.
There was a brief period of silence as the two men settled
into the office after Valerie left. Ramesh knew that he should be feeling
tired from such a full day, but his time with Valerie had actually left him
more energized. He took a seat next to Quinn. He glanced up to the
viewscreens opposite him and saw Sireesha in front of her main office building.
He said something in Hindi under his breath.
“As you said. She is still alive?” Ramesh asked.
“Yes. She’s claiming that there is still an investigation
into the explosion. But as far as I can tell, she’s using this as an
opportunity to push her business agenda.” Quinn didn’t look at Ramesh as he
spoke. He stared at the screens.
“What is her agenda?” Ramesh asked.
“In a nutshell, she’s trying to destroy my companies. But
it’s a lot more complicated than that.” Quinn continued starting at the
screens. “Since she and the others left here, her presence in India and in all of Asia has grown to a point of near dominance. Her companies are almost a mirror
of mine. She has genomics, biotechnologies, computer, networking and
telecommunications companies just as I do. And in Asia, she dominates the
market. Now, she’s taking on the world.”
“Free enterprise. Capitalism. It’s inevitable that your
companies will be subject to the same economic laws as all others before
yours,” Ramesh stated bluntly.
“Yes. And if you want to know the truth, my time in this
realm has really come and gone. I’m getting old and I’m starting to see that
there may be a little more to life than this. But Sireesha has recently begun
using stronger tactics. I’m not sure where she’s going, but she’s no longer
playing by the rules,” Quinn replied.
The displays all froze. Each display paused as Quinn
finished his thought.
“How do you mean?” Ramesh asked, noting a seriousness in
Quinn that was uncharacteristic. While Ramesh knew Quinn to be driven and
strong, he was never fully serious about himself or his life. In fact, most of
the people closest to Quinn always wondered how he managed to create such a
powerful global company when he could barely seem to prioritize his personal
life.
Quinn turned and looked at Ramesh for the first time in the
conversation. At the same time, the display screens rearranged so that the
news stories of the three children became the prominent displays, each taking
one-third of the full display space. “Do you recognize any of those kids?” he
asked, pointing at the displays.
Ramesh turned and looked. He thought that he had seen a
picture of the older boy on television or in a newspaper at the airport
earlier, but he had not remembered any details. “No, the older boy looks
somewhat familiar, but I am not certain.”
“His name is Thomas O’Grady. He is the youngest son of
Senator O’Grady of Kansas. He died yesterday of unknown causes at a ski resort
in Idaho. He was nineteen years old. The girl is April Ison. Her family
lives in northern Virginia. Her father is the director of the National
Institute of Health in Bethesda. She was eleven. The other boy is Ryland
Ortega. He lived with his mother in Conway, Arkansas. He was an ice hockey
player. He was thirteen.” The screens faded to black. “They all died
yesterday at the same time of day.”
“Of what?” questioned Ramesh.
“Unknown. I am trying to pull some strings to get one of
our forensic experts and researchers access to the bodies, but at this time
very little is known.” Quinn focused on Ramesh. “Sireesha had them killed.”
Ramesh felt his heart sink and a pit open inside his stomach.
He had known Sireesha. It struck him as impossible that she could have
committed murder. “How can you know? What evidence is there? You said
yourself that the cause of death is unknown.” Ramesh stumbled to get the words
out. His thoughts were racing ahead of his words.
“It is a message to me personally. A message that only four
other people on this planet could have sent to me and I can rule out two of
those people. The only two people that could have sent this message and who would
do it are Sireesha Naidu and Daniel Van Der Merwe. And since they’re still
working together, I have no doubt that it was them.” Quinn stopped to let the
words sink in. He could see that Ramesh was spinning inside.
“You ... I do not understand,” Ramesh stammered. “How is
this a message to you? What is the message?”
“Ramesh,” Quinn started. The gravity in Quinn’s voice was
reflected in his eyes as he continued. “This is why I have called you here –
to explain this and to ask for your help. But, I want to try to give you a
perspective of the seriousness of what’s happening. Three kids are dead. They’re
kids, Ramesh. And Sireesha had them killed to send me a message. There are
going to be more deaths. People close to us. If we don’t do anything more
people will die. But if you get involved, you are putting yourself at risk. I
need you to understand that.”
Ramesh sat forward in his chair and rested his head in his
palms. He whispered something in Hindi. He rubbed his hands together and
looked up at Quinn. There was genuine concern in his eyes. “Quinn, what have
you done that has brought this upon you?”
Quinn looked back. He pursed his lips and exhaled. He
answered, “I’ll tell you everything. And there will be some very upsetting
things. I’m finished with the deceit and the marginal ethics and the fear. But
I am not going to force you to be involved in this. It has to be your choice,
because once this begins, it cannot be undone. You will be involved and you
will not be able to get out.”
Ramesh stood. He paced around the large conference desk,
considering his response. “Quinn, I am a writer. I write for trade journals
and magazines and I write columns for newspapers. I write articles on ethics
and on technology. I am not a high-power businessman or an adventurer. I sit
alone on my stoop and write.”
“I know. That’s part of what makes you qualified to help. I
can’t explain what that means unless you’re committed.” Quinn’s heart raced
inside, but he tried to maintain his calm. He feared involving Ramesh for
Ramesh’s safety, but he feared not involving Ramesh even more.
“Can you give me any idea of what you would need me to do,
without going into detail?” Ramesh asked.
“That’s fair. Yes, I have reason to believe that Brad is in
danger. The first thing I need is for you to go to Durban and warn him,” Quinn
answered.
“Brad Harris?” Ramesh asked. Brad Harris was one of the
four initial founders of Q-Morrow. Brad was the financial guru of the group. Ramesh
and Brad had established a deep friendship in the years that they both lived in
the Phoenix area. Brad left with Sireesha and Daniel to form the businesses
that eventually became the Naidu companies in India.
“Yes,” Quinn answered. “Last I heard, Brad was living in Durban and had married an Indian woman. He took himself off the grid. I haven’t been
able to track him down because he has become so disconnected and reclusive. He
doesn’t want to be found and I think he is in danger. I think Sireesha and
Daniel will be trying to find him.” Quinn’s voice trailed off as if he were
going to continue, but he did not.
“Why me? Can you tell me that?” Ramesh asked. He seemed to
be more interested, but he was certainly not sold.
“Several reasons. First, you know Brad. You would
recognize him – and he trusts you. Second, you’re not connected with me. Nobody
would even look twice at you traveling to South Africa and back. If I or if
Valerie were to go it would be a media circus and if I were to send someone
from the company, it might alert Sireesha.” Quinn paused. He looked at
Ramesh, trying to discern any indication of a response.
Ramesh mulled it over in his mind. He had not been outside
of Fort Collins much in the past few years. He hadn’t even left the sanctuary
of his home for more than trips to the grocery and other shops. To fly to Durban, his childhood home, seemed daunting, and there were the nightmares of his past in Durban. He thought of Brad. They had been like brothers for a time.
“Okay,” Ramesh said tentatively. “For Brad, I will go.”
Quinn felt a rush of relief and of adrenaline at the same
time. He had hoped that Ramesh would go, but it meant that he would now have
to introduce Ramesh to the truth – and he wasn’t sure how Ramesh would take it.
“Thank you.” Quinn straightened in his chair. “You’re
going to want to sit down now.” He breathed deeply then turned to Ramesh.
“Do you have the list of numbers that I sent you?” Quinn
asked. Ramesh fumbled through his pockets and then withdrew the list. “Okay,
when did you receive the list?”
Ramesh looked quizzically at Quinn and answered, “This
morning.”
“Specifically, what time was it?” Quinn asked again.
“I would say about six a.m., though I am not certain,”
Ramesh answered.
“And what time would that have been in London?” Quinn
continued.
“I believe that is one p.m. Greenwich,” Ramesh answered. The
expression of puzzlement grew in his eyes at the line of questions.
“Yes. And do you know what time the major lotteries are played
around the world?”
“I believe that the numbers are drawn in the early evening
for the national American lotteries, but I know nothing of the International
lotteries,” Ramesh responded.
“Well,” Quinn began, “just so you know, there are several
lotteries that are drawn each Wednesday and Saturday, including the British
lottery and many of the national lotteries here. Typically the draw time is
between five p.m. and seven p.m.”
Quinn spoke knowledgably and quickly as he explained. “Now,
it’s almost six p.m., so on the East coast most of the regional lotteries have
already played.” The viewscreens opposite the two men lit up again. There
were six displays, each showing a lottery drawing. One was the British lottery
and five others were regional lotteries on the East coast. “These, of course,
are not live, but they are the actual drawings that occurred today. We can
confirm that fact later if you like.”
Quinn’s mood seemed to have lightened. Ramesh noticed that
Quinn was speaking quickly and he had a glint of deep excitement in his eyes. Ramesh
was surprised that Quinn was interested in the lotteries. Quinn’s wealth
significantly surpassed the value of any lottery. In fact, Quinn’s wealth easily
surpassed the sum total of all winnings of all lotteries currently in play.
Ramesh watched as the numbers fell in each lottery drawing.
When all six were played, he looked back at the numbers on the page he had
received from Quinn earlier in the day. He looked up at the screens again. His
eyes widened and he looked at Quinn with utter astonishment.
“This is impossible,” he whispered. He looked at the paper
again and then at the screens. He was holding the winning numbers for six
lotteries. His hands trembled at the significance of the paper.
“Not impossible, but extremely improbable,” Quinn gleamed. “I
think the odds of winning just the UK lottery are about one in thirteen million.
What do you think the odds of winning six lotteries at the same time are?”
“Winning one lottery has no impact on winning or losing any
other lottery. They are independent events,” Ramesh answered, “So if there is
a one in thirteen million chance of winning one, then the chance of winning all
six is one in thirteen million to the sixth ... impossible.”
“Not impossible, but extremely improbable,” Quinn
reiterated. He chuckled to see the astonishment in Ramesh. “So, Ram, you’re a
scientist. Postulate. Theorize. Tell me how you think I did it.”
Ramesh stood again. He always thought more clearly on his
feet. He had developed a habit of pacing on his stoop in Fort Collins. It had
become such a part of his life that he had worn through the exterior carpet
originally installed on the stoop. He rubbed his hands together and considered
the question.
“There are two options that come to mind. Each is as
unlikely as actually winning the lotteries,” Ramesh said, turning to face
Quinn.
“And those two options are?” Quinn asked.
“First, I think you may have rigged the drawings. But that
is unlikely because there would be no benefit to you and it would put you at
legal risk.” Ramesh stopped and looked at Quinn. Quinn nodded and winked. Ramesh
continued, “The other option is nonsense, but I cannot think of anything else.”
Quinn grinned. “Go ahead. I’ve heard a lot of nonsense.”
“The other option I considered is simply an option,
not that there is any justification or sense in it.” Ramesh paused as if
considering whether he would actually say what he was thinking. “Perhaps I
have read too much fiction.” He paused again, and then turned away from Quinn
to hide his embarrassment. “The other option is that you traveled in time.”
Quinn simply raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Interesting
theory,” he said. “But, not the case. I didn’t travel into the future,
but you’re going in the right direction.”