Girl Missing (14 page)

“Thank you, Rose, for the information,” Esterhaus said tightly. He motioned them toward 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,” said Sykes.

“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 Sykes.

“Well, yes.”

“One question,” said Ratchet, 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 Sykes.

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 Sykes calmly.

Again, Esterhaus glanced at Adam. Suddenly Kat 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. Gingerly he removed
a vial and handed it to Kat. “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. The crystals are dissolved in an alcohol-and-water solvent over 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 Sykes.

“That’s right. One crystal diluted in 50cc of solvent will make fifty doses.”

Ratchet 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 Sykes. “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 was smart about it …”

“Yeah?” prompted Sykes.

“You 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 ringing of a cell phone seemed all the more startling. Both cops automatically glanced down at their belts.

“It’s mine. Excuse me,” said Sykes, and he retreated a few paces away to take the call.

“Well,” said Ratchet. “I’m not sure there’s much more we can do here. I mean, if two different labs can come up with the same stuff …”

“The odds are against simultaneous development,” said Adam. “Zestron-L isn’t something you just cook up in your basement. It took us years to get this far, and it’s still not ready for the market.”

“But Dr. Esterhaus says another lab
could
do it.”

“Cygnus is the only lab around here with the facilities.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Ratchet, “what the mob can finance.” He closed his notebook. “Let me be honest. We’re not gonna have much luck here.”

“You could polygraph the staff,” said Kat. “That would be a start.”

“It would also be an insult,” said Esterhaus. “To every single one of them.”

“I don’t see that you have a choice,” said Kat.

Adam shook his head. “I hate to do it.”

“It’d probably be inconclusive, anyway,” said Ratchet. “They’ll all be nervous, upset. Chances are, you won’t be able to pinpoint a leak, not this late in the game.”

“What about South Lexington?” said Kat. “Check out the receiving end, Vince. Find out who’s distributing it on the outside. Question the victims’ families and friends. They might know the source.”

“Yeah. We could do that.” He turned as Sykes came back.

“Let’s go, Vince,” said Sykes. “We’re done here.”

“Aren’t you going to question anyone?” asked Kat.

“Later.” Sykes shook hands with Adam and Esterhaus, then he and Ratchet headed for the exit.

“Something’s going on,” muttered Kat, watching them leave. “Excuse me.”

She followed the two cops outside, into the parking lot. “Hey! Lou!” she called.

Sykes turned to her with a look of weariness. “What, Novak?”

“Why the abrupt exit?”

“Because I’ve got my ass to protect, okay? I also got a chief who’s bitching about my wasting departmental time on this case.”

“That was a call from your chief?”

“Yeah. He wanted to know why I’m out saving the world’s junkies when we’ve got murderers cruising the suburbs. And you know what? I couldn’t think of a single good answer.” Sykes yanked open his car door. “Let’s go, Vince.”

“Wait. Who told the chief about it?”

“I didn’t ask,” he snapped.

“But
someone
must have told him.”

Sykes got into the car and slammed the door. “All I know is, I got orders from above. And
we’re out of here.” He looked at Ratchet and barked,
“Drive.”

The car took off, leaving Kat standing alone in the parking lot.

I got orders
. Whose orders? she wondered. Who had called the chief and told him to pull Sykes and Ratchet away? The mayor’s office? Ed?

Suddenly she turned and gazed up at the letters
CYGNUS
mounted on the building. It was a possibility she didn’t want to consider, but it was staring her in the face.

If anyone had a reason to halt the investigation, it was him. The man whose company would suffer. The man whose name would be dragged through the mud. The man she’d seen dining and shmoozing at the mayor’s benefit.

Where on earth did you park your brains, Novak?

She turned from the building and headed to her car.

It was hard for Kat to give up the Mercedes, but she had her principles to uphold. She didn’t want to owe Adam Quantrell a thing, not a single damn thing.

She turned in the Mercedes at Regis Rentals and paid the bill herself. Then she walked around the corner to Lester’s Used Cars.

She drove out in a Ford—five years old, with a few rust spots on the fender. It smelled a little stale, and there was a rip in the backseat, but the engine ran fine and the price was right.

And she didn’t feel guilty driving it.

From there, she headed straight to City Hall.

She tried getting in to see Mayor Sampson, but there was no chance they’d let her in—not after that scene in his office a day earlier. So she went instead to the DA’s office. She found her ex-husband at his desk. He kept his work space neat, every paper in its place, every pen and paper clip relegated to the proper slot. Ed himself looked immaculate as always, not a crease in his 100-percent-cotton shirt. She wondered how she’d stood being married to the man for two years.

He looked up in surprise as she came in. “Kat! Is this a social visit?”

“Who whispered in the police chief’s ear?” she asked.

“Ah. Not a social visit.”

“Was it Sampson?”

“What are you referring to?”

“You know what.” She leaned across his desk. “Sergeant Sykes was told to lay off Cygnus. Who gave the order? Sampson? You?”

He sat back and smiled innocently. “Wasn’t me. Cross my heart.”

“Sampson?”

“No comment. But you know the pressure he’s under. The police start digging around, it turns into a media event. We don’t need that kind of publicity, not now.”

“Did Quantrell have anything to do with it?”

“What?”

“Did he ask Sampson to call off the cops?”

Ed looked perplexed. “Why would he? Look, I don’t know why you’re getting worked up about this. Or are you back with the old underdog crusade?”

“I was never on any crusade.”

“Sure you were. Hell, you think it was easy for me, living with you? Putting up with that attitude of yours? I don’t recall taking a vow of poverty when I married you. But I’d buy a BMW or … or join a racquetball club, and you’d wince.”

She looked at him in mock horror. “I
didn’t
.”

“You did. And here you are, still at it. Kat, no one
gives
a damn about junkies. We have
tourists
getting mugged out there! Nice tourists, from nice places.
Those
are the people we should be protecting. Not the trash out on South Lexington.”

“Oh, Ed.” She shook her head and laughed. “Ed, I have to say that, until this very minute, I
never
realized.”

“What didn’t you realize?”

“What a kind and sensitive bastard you are.”

“There’s that attitude problem again.”

“Not an attitude, Ed. A principle.” She turned for the door. “Maybe you’d recognize it. If you had one of your own.”

Seconds after his ex-wife left the room, Ed Novak picked up the telephone and dialed the mayor’s office. “She was just here,” he said. “And I don’t think she’s too happy.”

“You don’t think she’ll go to the newspapers, do you?” asked Sampson.

“If she does, we’ll just have to stonewall them with
no comments
. Or deny there’s a crisis.”

“That’s the strategy we take. Make her look like a loose cannon. In the meantime,
do
something about her, will you? She’s getting to be a pain in the ass.”

“I’ll be honest, Mayor,” said Ed with a tired sigh. “She always was.”

All afternoon, Adam waited for Kat to call. A nice meal to hash things out between them—that’s what they needed. He was optimistic enough to make dinner reservations for two at Yen King. There he could make it clear that he was on her side, and that he intended to see more of her. But as the day wore on toward five o’clock, there was still no phone call.

When finally a call
did
come in, it wasn’t from Kat. It was from his butler, Thomas.

“Dr. Novak returned the Mercedes,” said Thomas. “I’ve just spoken with Regis Rentals.”

“Yes, she said she was going to buy a car today.”

“The reason I’m calling, Mr. Q., is to tell you she paid for the Mercedes rental. The entire bill.”

“But the bill was supposed to be sent to me.”

“Precisely. And they explained it to her. But she insisted on paying it herself.”

“They should have refused her payment.”

“The staff at Regis tell me it was quite impossible to change her mind.”

What was going on with that woman? Adam wondered as he hung up. Just last night, she’d seemed pleased about the car. There had been no question that the rental was his gift. Why her sudden insistence on paying the bill?

At five thirty he left Cygnus and drove north. The Bellemeade turnoff was right on his way home; he decided to pass by Kat’s house, on the off chance he could catch her.

There was no car in the driveway, no answer to his knock on the door. He got back into his car and decided to wait.

Twenty minutes later he was about to give up and go home when he spotted a gray Ford coming around the corner. Kat was behind the wheel. She pulled into the driveway.

At once he was out of his car and moving toward her. She stepped out, holding a bag with
HOP SING TAKEOUT
printed on the side.

“Kat!” he said. “I tried calling you—”

“I’ve been out all day.” Her tone was matter-of-fact and none too warm. She started toward her front door with Adam right behind her.

“Why don’t we go out for some good Chinese food?”

“I happen to
like
Hop Sing,” she snapped, stepping through the door.

Determined not to be shut out, he followed her inside, into the kitchen. “I don’t understand what’s happened—”

“I understand perfectly, Adam. If Cygnus were my company, I’d block the investigation, too.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t block any investigation.”

“I mean, think of the PR disaster. The headlines.
Cygnus Manufactures Killer Drug
.”

“You think I’d go that far to protect Cygnus?”

“Haven’t you?” She set the take-out bag on the counter and began to unload the contents. “Look, I’m starving. I’d like to eat this before it gets—oh,
damn
.”

“What?”

“I left the fried rice in the car.” She spun around and headed back out the front door.

He was right on her heels, following her across the lawn. “Come on, let’s go out.”

“No, thanks.” She reached into the car and retrieved the second take-out bag. “Tonight, I’m a solo act. Dinner. A hot bath. And absolutely
no
excitement of any kind.” She turned away from the car.

A deafening blast shook the house. She felt the sting of flying glass as she was hurled backward
by the violent pulse of the explosion. She landed on her back, in the grass. Chunks of wood, flakes of asphalt tile rained down on her.

Then, like a gentle snowfall, a cloud of dust settled slowly from the sky.