Brutality by Ingrid Thoft Page B

kept waiting was particularly irksome.
    She put in a call to Pamela Fordyce’s office and was told that her assistant was away from her desk, did she want to leave a message? Fina left word that she had an important development-related matter to discuss and would like to meet with Ms. Fordyce as soon as possible. She was checking e-mail on her tablet when her brother Matthew walked past the glass-enclosed space. He reversed his direction ten seconds later and entered the room.
    “How’s it going, Sis?” Matthew, the youngest Ludlow brother, was two years older than Fina. He had that Ludlow sparkle—the just-right wavy hair, the dimple, the impish grin. Much to their mother’s chagrin, he was single, and Fina didn’t expect him to settle down anytime soon. Matthew had his pick of women and didn’t have to balance work and family. A steady stable of dates and friends with benefits kept him quite satisfied.
    “I’m good,” Fina said. “You?”
    “Can’t complain. Working like a dog, but nothing new about that. You waiting for Dad?”
    “No. I’m waiting for some associate who needs info on the Haynesworth case.”
    Matthew’s brow scrunched up. “Remind me which case that is?”
    “The asbestos in the nursing home.”
    “Right.” He adjusted the Omega watch on his wrist. “What are you getting Mom for her birthday?”
    Fina sat back in her chair. “I thought I could go in on something with you guys.”
    He folded his arms across his chest. “You always do that. Piggyback on our gift at the last minute.”
    “I always pay you,” she said. “It’s not like I’m a freeloader.”
    “You’re an idea freeloader,” Matthew insisted. “You never think of anything, and then you jump on our idea bandwagon.”
    “Your idea bandwagon? You sound like a ten-year-old pioneer. So what are you getting Mom?”
    Matthew looked at his shoes before making eye contact. “Haven’t decided yet.”
    “Haven’t decided or don’t know because Patty is the one choosing the gift?” Fina asked.
    He grinned. “I take the fifth.”
    “Where do you think I learned how to jump on the idea bandwagon anyway? My big brothers taught me everything I know.”
    A young woman tapped on the glass wall of the conference room and motioned for Matthew to join her.
    “Catch you later.” Matthew gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and squeezed by the associate who was there to pick Fina’s brain.
    —
    A fter several hours spent discussing all things asbestos, Fina grabbed a burger and fries in the Prudential Center food court. Back in her car, she called Gus Sibley’s private practice, but was told that he was at his NEU office for the remainder of the day. She made her way there, only to find that she’d just missed him. Undeterred, Fina hopped online and found his home address in Brookline.
    She decided to make the most of the Wi-Fi connection she’d found in the NEU parking lot and did a quick search on the good doctor. The Internet confirmed that Gus was a well-respected orthopedist who had a private practice and also worked for NEU as a team doctor. There were pictures of him with the women’s soccer team and at various charity events with his wife, Margie. Fina pulled up the Massachusetts medical board website and searched his record. There were no pending claims against him, nor had he made any malpractice payouts in the last ten years. Next, Fina logged on to the Ludlow and Associates database. There was one mention of him as a potential expert witness on a case, but there was no indication that he’d ever testified.
    A ten-minute drive brought her to the Sibley house, a brick center-entrance colonial located a few streets off Route 9 in Brookline. It was close enough to the thoroughfare to make it convenient to the hospitals and NEU, but far enough away that you didn’t hear cars speeding by. The neighborhood consisted of medium-sized colonials with fenced-in backyards. Ten miles west and the houses probably went for