Chapter ThirteenDr. Phil Jamison sat stiffly on the straight-back chair; he preferred the hard surface to the leather armchairs. It was 8:50 in the morning, and he had not slept well, only an hour. The sss Alexa had marked each half-hour chiming quietly. As the chimes sounded, it surprised him, he wanted time to pass quicker. He was ready to confront the conclusions he had drawn.
At nine o’clock, he was to appear before Dr. Malcom Porter, Chief Medical Officer of the State of Ohio. As he sat in the outer office of the CMO, he fingered the brown manila folder. A folder containing conjectures, the folders did not make up proof, only data bolstering his assumptions.
He remembered his hands shaking three days ago as he had written the memo to the CMO. If he was honest, he knew the memo could
