“Do your assistants ever get antsy?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Maybe your assistants want to take it up a notch, show off some, impress you.”
“They’re young. Sure, there’s some frustration, impatience—competition from time to time. But we have a very strict protocol, a timetable, procedures that must be followed not only for success but for safety.”
“Who has access to the serum?”
“It’s locked in the lab, in an environmentally controlled case. No one but myself and Pachai have access. You don’t think Billingsly tried to—”
“The case was open,” Eve told him. “And empty.”
“Empty?” Looking stricken, Rosenthall rubbed at his temple. “The serum’s gone? God. God! We’re so close. A competing lab? Espionage? Would Billingsly have done that?”
“Your two interns can’t access the serum?”
“No. Well, that’s not completely accurate. Ken’s worked late with me several nights, and I gave him the code. I change it every three days. I’d have changed it this morning, in fact. We can re-create the serum. But the time lost . . .” He shook his head. “But I don’t understand what this has to do with the murders, with Jen and the boys. I can’t believe they’d be involved in some plot to steal or sell the work.”
“That’s okay. I understand. Interview end. If you’d just wait here a minute. Peabody?”
“You’re cutting him loose?” Peabody asked when they stepped out.
“I want you to take him to the lounge, ask him and Arianna to wait. I might need him to talk to Dickerson, interpret some of the science stuff when we get to it. Then do a round with Gupta. He may have something to add here, and he knows you now.”
“Okay. You’re taking Dickerson alone?”
“I’ll start on him. When you think you’ve got all you can get from Gupta, take him to the lounge, then come in to Interview.”
“Check.”
“And bring Dickerson a drink.”
Peabody sighed. “Because I’m good cop.”
“So far.” Eve walked down to the next interview room, entered.
“Dallas, Lieutenant Eve,” she began and completed the documentation. “Hey, Ken, you look a little wrung out.”
“I’ve been waiting a long time. Like two hours.”
A little sweaty, Eve observed. Hollow-eyed and very pale. “These things take time.” She read him his rights, watched those hollow eyes widen.
“I’m a suspect? Why are you saying all that?”
“For your protection, Ken. Just procedure. You know about procedure. Do you understand your rights, your obligations?”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why—”
“Four people are dead, Ken, and you knew all of them.”
“I’m not the only one who—”
“We’re talking to the others. So what did you think of Billingsly?” she continued, conversationally. “An asshole, right?”
“I don’t really have an opinion. I didn’t know him, really.”
“Take my word. Asshole. Anybody who tries to horn in on another man’s woman, especially when she’s not interested, is an asshole.”
She smiled when she said it, watched his eyes skitter away. “I nearly forgot.” She took out a swab. “I need some spit. DNA check.”
“I—I don’t have to do that.”
“Seriously? It’s just some spit, Ken.”
“I don’t have to do that unless you have a warrant. That’s my right.”
“Suit yourself.” She shrugged. “Now, about assholes.”
“Should I get a lawyer?”
“Do you want one? Fine with me. It’ll take more time. Probably a couple more hours.” She started to rise.
“It’s okay, for now. I just want to get out of here.”
“Can’t blame you. Like I said, you look wrung out. Up late?”
“I didn’t sleep well. It’s hard, with what happened.”
“I bet. You liked Jen.”
“Everybody liked Jen.”
“But you really liked her. You got her a job.”
“It was no big deal.”
“Come on, take some credit. An addict with barely a month’s recovery under her belt before you asked your uncle to give her a break. Then you do her another solid and help her addict friend get a job. She owed you.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“Did she pay you back?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I don’t think she did, not when she had her eye on Pachai—and he had his on her. That must’ve stung.”
He scratched at his arms as if something crawled along his skin. “She was just a friend.”
“Because that’s the way she wanted it. And Pachai, what did he do for her? He didn’t get her and her addict friend jobs. His uncle didn’t give her food to take home. He comes from money, though. Isn’t that always the way? Gets to be Rosenthall’s head guy—over you. You worked harder, I bet. Put in more hours. You’re smarter—I can tell. You’ve got ideas, don’t you, Ken? Ideas about the serum.”
She leaned forward. No visible scratches, she thought. But he’d left his hair down, over the back of his neck.
“I bet you put in lots of your own time on that project. Off the books, so to speak. Busting your ass. Rosenthall’s so conservative, such a stickler for protocol, procedure. But you’ve got balls. You’re willing to take some risks. Did Jen find out you were taking one?”
He kept scratching, swallowing, looking anywhere but at Eve. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She came in the lab a lot, didn’t she? Making excuses to drop in so she could see Pachai. Flirted with him right in front of you. Did she come by when you were working alone one night? Off the books. Did you let her in?”
“We’re not allowed to work in the lab off hours unless Dr. Rosenthall’s there.”
“Rules.” Eve waved them away. “Real innovation says screw the rules. Real progress is risky, takes gambles. And Rosenthall’s poking along with his yes-man Gupta getting all the attention—and the girl. It’s not right. But you can show them you’re better, smarter. Did she catch you at it, or did you tell her? Had to brag about it. But she still didn’t want you. In fact, she threatened to tell on you if you didn’t stop. To tell Rosenthall you were experimenting with his work, testing it, and not on rats.”
He began to shiver now, as if cold even while the sweat dribbled down his temples. “You’re making all this up.”
“Am I? Scientists keep records. We’re going to get a search warrant for your apartment, and we’re going to find yours. We’re going to find the pipe you used to beat Coby Vix to death with. Then—”
“You can’t find the pipe at my place because . . .”
“Why is that, Ken?”
“I’m not talking anymore.”
“Suit yourself.” Eve sat back, watched him sweat a few moments until Peabody came in with a tube of ginger ale.
“Peabody, Detective Delia, entering Interview. He could use that. Have a drink, Ken, take a little time to think. The way I look at it, things just got out of hand, out of your control. You had a really bad reaction to the serum.”
“I’m not saying anything else.” But he took the tube, cracked it, guzzled.
And when she came back in, Eve thought, she’d take the tube—and have his DNA.
“Think about it,” Eve suggested. “Interview pause. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, exiting the room.”
“He looks sweaty, shaky,” Peabody began outside the door. “He looks like—”
“An addict jonesing for a fix. He’s scared, too. He’s either going to crack or lawyer up—that could go either way. Let’s get a search warrant for his apartment. We’ve got enough for that. He’s got logs and records. That stupid cape, the gloves, the shoes, maybe the knife and scalpel.”
“Maybe we should have Rosenthall observe the next round. Like you said, if he gets into the science, Rosenthall could tell us what it means.”
“Good idea. Go get him, take him to an observation room. I’m going to give Dickerson another couple minutes.”
She could use a drink herself, Eve thought, and gave Vending a hard eye. The machines didn’t always cooperate with her.
“Let me do that.” Roarke plugged in credits, ordered her a tube of Pepsi.
“Thanks. Come to watch the show?”