Daniel Annechino - Hypocrisy

Lentz seemed to be evaluating her words, but didn’t show any signs of regret. “Does that mean I have to forfeit the Audi, too?”

Dupree wanted to punch Lentz square in the jaw, but let her anger pass. “We’ll be in touch real soon.”

Dupree stomped away and whispered, “What a fucking asshole.”

“I almost lost it in there, T.J.,” Dupree admitted. “When Lentz was leaving he said something that made me see red.”

“Care to share it?”

She told him about her parting conversation with Lentz.

“I guess he didn’t love Dr. Crawford as much as he loved money,” T.J. said.

“What’s your read on his wacky story?” Dupree asked.

“Call me crazy, but I think he’s leveling with us. And you?”

“I’m right there with you, partner,” Dupree said. “Here’s what I think: when Gallo and his cohorts realized that Dr. Crawford was onto something that could completely change cancer research as we know it, they wanted a piece of the action. But Dr. Crawford wasn’t interested. So, they needed to get her out of the way.”

“So,” T.J. said, “you think that Gallo made a deal with Cassano to murder Dr. Crawford rather than just having him take her computer?”

“That’s what I think,” Dupree said. “Even if they got their hands on her computer, how could they know for sure that it contained the complete research data? It might have taken them years to piece things together. But if they got rid of her and partnered with Horizon, they’d have access to the main servers and all the clinical trials, and every other piece of data. And I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that Gallo’s cohorts are big pharmaceutical companies with virtually unlimited financial resources.”

“That would place Mason in an awkward situation,” T.J. said. “He was in the perfect position to spearhead this whole conspiracy.”

“Sure was.”

“Both Dr. Mason and Maggie Hansen made a valid point that there may be drug companies out there—particularly those making millions on chemo drugs—who would benefit from suppressing Dr. Crawford’s findings,” T.J. said. “Maybe that’s what Gallo and company hoped to do.”

“Good point, but I don’t think so. They’d stand to make ten times more money by completing Dr. Crawford’s research, patenting the drugs, and selling them for a gazillion dollars. I mean we’re talking about a treatment that can extend the lives of terminal cancer patients, while preserving their quality of life. And in some instances, the treatment could actually cure certain forms of cancer. We’re talking about a money machine.”

Dupree looked at her watch. “Let’s get some lunch before we head over to Horizon.”

“Great idea. I’m starving.”

After having a quick lunch at Joshua’s Deli, Dupree and T.J. headed for the Horizon Cancer Research Center in the Bronx.

“I can’t believe you ate that entire corn beef sandwich,” Dupree said. “And that’s after you downed a half dozen kosher pickles.”

“Hey, a growing boy needs his fuel.”

“Well, if you keep fueling your body like that, make sure you’ve got a closet full of fat pants.”

“Aren’t we the witty one today,” T.J. said.

“I’m just messing with you.” Dupree laughed out loud. “Some women actually like chubby men.”

Dupree was relieved that in spite of the seriousness of homicide investigations, T.J. and she could still enjoy a little humor. When a cop is all formal and uptight, it makes the job harder and keeps the blood pressure elevated.

After weaving through traffic for forty-five minutes, Dupree and T.J. pulled into the lot next to the ten-story building where Horizon’s facility was located. They walked in the front door, and without uttering a sound, flashed their IDs as they passed the almost-sleeping security guard. Then they hopped on the elevator. When they stepped off the elevator, the perky receptionist promptly greeted them.

“Good morning,” Dupree said. “I’m Detective Dupree and this is Detective Brown. We have an appointment with Dr. Mason.”

The receptionist held up her index finger. “One moment please, while I call Dr. Mason.”

Dupree noticed that the activity level of the entire facility seemed much less intense than she remembered. During their last visit, the place was a virtual beehive. But today, it appeared that everyone moved around in slow motion and Dupree noticed fewer employees.

Dupree spotted Dr. Mason heading her way.

“Nice to see you both,” Dr. Mason said. “I wish it were under different circumstances.” He motioned with his arm. “Please follow me.”

Trailing behind Dr. Mason, Dupree craned her neck left then right, and confirmed her earlier suspicions: Horizon Cancer Research Center was operating at half-throttle. When the three of them entered Dr. Mason’s office, the stale cigarette odor Dupree remembered from her last visit seemed even more pronounced. She wasn’t surprised. She could only imagine the amount of stress Dr. Mason would have had to endure since Dr. Crawford’s murder.

Before they could even sit down, Dr. Mason said, “Please tell me that you’ve arrested the killer.”

“We do have someone in custody and I feel we have sufficient evidence to prosecute,” Dupree said. “There are a few puzzle pieces still missing, but we’re very close to charging the suspect with murder.”

Normally, Dupree wouldn’t so freely share this much information at this stage of an investigation. But considering the possibility that Mason may have played a role in the conspiracy, she wanted to see how he reacted. He remained rock solid. No flinching. No eye twitches. And no nervous swallowing.

“Fantastic! You can’t imagine the chaos that resulted from Lauren’s murder. Nearly everyone on staff is updating their résumés. They parade in and out of my office all day long and ask if I’ve found funding or if I’ve made a deal with a competent partner who can get us back on track.”

“And have you made any progress?” Dupree asked.

“I have. Thank God. In fact, I’ve all but decided to make a deal with Hyland Laboratories, the biggest pharmaceutical company in the world. They virtually have unlimited funds—I think they netted sixteen billion last year—and their flagship drug is Camadyacin, one of the most widely used chemotherapy drugs for treating cancer. They have years of research experience and employ a drug development division second to none.”

“We’re so glad to hear that,” Dupree said. “Isn’t Hyland the company that tried to partner with Horizon awhile back, but Dr. Crawford nixed the deal?”

“That is correct.”

“And didn’t they also try to hire Maggie Hansen?” Dupree said.

“They did. But that’s ancient history.

“When do you expect to firm up the deal?” Dupree asked.

“As a matter of fact, Michael Adelman, the CEO of Hyland, will be in my office tomorrow morning at ten a.m. to discuss the partnership. He’s flying into New York from his home office in Albany. Assuming that we can work out a few kinks, I’m hopeful we can come to terms.” Dr. Mason nervously tugged on his collar. “There is a legal issue, however, that I need to address. Striking a deal with Hyland isn’t as simple as signing an agreement. There is a grueling legal process we have to go through.

“Were you considering any other partners?” T.J. asked.

“Actually, three different pharmaceutical companies joined forces and wanted to form a partnership with Horizon as a team. Ritter-Stone, Global Pharmaceuticals, and Fowler-Paine made a generous offer, and I was really tempted to go with them. But they wanted controlling interest in the project and that was never going to happen.”