CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
I have to agree with Larry, waiting for Stark sixty-eight floors up in the Sears Tower is something like what I imagine being part of a Papal Audience is like. I’ve been waiting ten minutes when a stunning brunette emerges from a door hidden in the paneling. She escorts me down a long hall into a corner office that commands a view of the lake and Wacker Drive. Dr. Bill Stark gets up to meet me. He easily stands six-foot four. He motions for me to take a seat across the desk from him. I survey the office and see what I believe is a study by Piet Mondrian of View From the Dunes. In the corner is what looks like an original Lichtenstein. A telephone, an antique silver inkwell, and a small crystal clock are the only objects on an otherwise pristine desk. Following my glance a
