Tess Gerritsen - Peggy Sue Got Murdered

"I'm glad you came," he murmured. "How did you manage?"

"Wheelock's covering for me. I took the day off. Told him I had to buy a new car."

"Why not the truth?"

"He'd prefer I dropped this case. So would they." She nodded toward Beamis and Shradick, who were peering curiously at a blinking computer screen. "I think I'm being conscientious. They think I'm a pain in the neck."

They all moved to a door marked Area 8 .

"This is where Zestron-L's being developed," said Adam, leading them inside.

M. J.'s first impression was that she'd stepped through a time portal into a future world of black and white and chrome. Even the man who hurried to greet them did not violate that color scheme. His coat was a pristine white, his hair jet black. "Dr. Herbert Esterhaus, project supervisor," he said, reaching out to shake their hands. "I'm in charge of Zestron-L development."

"And this is the area you manage?" asked Beamis, glancing about the lab where half a dozen workers manned the various stations.

"Yes. The project's confined to this section-the room you see here and the adjoining three rooms. The only access is through that door you entered, plus an emergency exit, through the animal lab. And that's wired to an alarm."

"Only authorized personnel are allowed in?"

"That's right. Just our staff. I really don't see how any Zestron could have gotten out."

"Obviously it walked out," said Beamis. "In someone's pocket."

Dr. Esterhaus glanced at Adam. There was a lot said in that glance, M. J. thought. An unspoken question. Only now did she realize how skittery Esterhaus seemed, his bony fingers rubbing together, his rodent eyes noting Beamis's and Shradick's every move.

"How well do you people screen your personnel?" asked Shradick.

"When we hire someone," said Adam, "we're interested in scientific credentials. And talent. We don't do polygraphs or credit checks. We like to assume our people are honest."

"Maybe you assumed wrong," said Beamis.

"Everyone in this project is a long-term employee," said Adam. "Isn't that right, Herb?"

Esterhaus nodded. "I've been here six years. Most of the people,"-he gestured to the workers in white coats-"have been with Cygnus even longer."

"Any exceptions?" asked Shradick.

Esterhaus paused and glanced at Adam. Again, that nervous look, that silent question.

"There was my stepdaughter, Maeve," Adam finished for him.

Beamis and Shradick exchanged looks. "She worked in this department?" asked Beamis.

"Just cleanup," said Esterhaus quickly. "I mean, Maeve wasn't really qualified to do anything else. But she did an acceptable job."

"Why did she leave?"

"We had some… disagreements," said Esterhaus.

"What disagreements?" pressed Beamis.

"She… started coming in late. And she didn't always dress appropriately. I mean, I didn't mind the green hair and all, but all the dangly jewelry, it's not really safe around this equipment."

M. J. looked around at the two-tone room and tried to imagine what a splash of color Maeve Quantrell would have made. All these white-coated scientists must have thought her some wild and exotic creature, to be tolerated only because she was the boss's daughter.

"So what?" said Beamis. "You fired her?"

"Yes," said Esterhaus, looking very unhappy. "I discussed it with Mr. Quantrell and he agreed that I should do whatever was necessary."

"Why was she coming in late?" asked M. J.

They all looked at her in puzzlement. "What?" asked Esterhaus.

"That bothers me. The why . She was doing her job, and then she wasn't. When did it start?"

"Six months ago," said Esterhaus.

"So six months ago, she starts coming in late, or not at all. What changed?" She looked at Adam.

He shook his head. "She was living on her own. I don't know what was going on with her."

"Strung out?" asked Beamis.

"Not that I was aware of," said Esterhaus.

"She was angry, that's what it was," said a voice. It was one of the researchers, a woman sitting at a nearby computer terminal. "I was here the day you two had that fight, remember, Herb? Maeve was like a cat spitting water. Said she wasn't going to take your… nonsense any longer, and then she stomped out." The woman shook her head. "No control, that girl. Very impulsive."

"Thank you, Rose, for the information," Esterhaus said tightly. He motioned them towards the next room. "I'll show you the rest of the lab."

The tour continued, into the animal lab with its cages of barking dogs. The emergency exit was at the rear, and on the door was the sign: Alarm will sound if opened .

"So you see," said Esterhaus, "there's no way someone can just walk in and steal anything."

"But somehow the drug got out," asked Beamis.

"There's one other possibility," said Esterhaus. "There could have been simultaneous development. Another lab somewhere, working on the same thing. For someone to steal our drug, they'd have to break into Cygnus, through a secured door. They'd have to know our access codes."

"Which all your employees know," said Beamis.

"Well, yes."

"One question," said Shradick, who'd been jotting things in his notebook. "Have you changed the access code lately?"

"Not in the last year."

"So anyone employed here during the last year-say, Maeve, for instance-would know the code," said Beamis.

Esterhaus shook his head. "She wouldn't do it! She was difficult, yes, and maybe a little out of control. But she wasn't a thief. For heaven's sake, it's her father's company!"

"It was only an example," said Beamis calmly.

Again, Esterhaus glanced at Adam. Suddenly M. J. understood the looks that had flown between the two. They were both trying to cover for Maeve.

"Come on," said Adam, smoothly redirecting their attention. "We'll show you where the drug's stored."

Esterhaus led them into a side room. One wall was taken up by a refrigeration unit. "It's not really necessary to store it in here," he said, opening the refrigerator door. "The crystals are stable at room temperature. But we keep it in here as a precaution." He pulled out a tray; glass vials tinkled together like crystal. Gingerly he removed a vial and handed it to M. J. "That's it," he said. "Zestron-L."

She raised the vial and studied it in wonder. Rose pink crystals sparkled like tiny gemstones in the light. She turned the vial on its side and watched the contents tumble about, glittering. "It's beautiful," she murmured.

"That's just the crystalline form, of course, for storage," said Esterhaus. "What you're looking at is almost pure. It's injected in solution form. Dissolve it in an alcohol and water solvent, plus some heat. A little goes a long way."

"How far does it go?"

"One of those crystals, just one, is enough to make, say, fifty therapeutic doses."

" Fifty ?" said Beamis.

"That's right. One crystal diluted in fifty cc's of solvent will make fifty doses."

Shradick was busy studying the catch on the refrigerator door. "This thing isn't locked," he said.

"No. Nothing here's locked. I told you, we trust our employees."

"What about inventory control?" said Beamis. "You keep track of all those vials?"

"They're numbered, see? So we'd know if any vials were missing."

"But is there some way the drug could still get out? Without you knowing?"

Esterhaus paused. "I suppose, if someone were smart about it…"

"Yeah?" prompted Beamis.

"One could take a crystal or two. From each vial. And we might not notice the difference."

There was a pause as they all considered the implications. In that silence, the sudden beep of a pocket pager seemed all the more startling. Both cops automatically glanced down at their belts.