“So humanized just means the antibody is made partly of human genes.”
“Yes. You take whatever antigen you want to attack and inject it into a transgenic mouse whose immune genes are either partially or wholly human. The mouse produces the antibody, which you isolate from its spleen cells. You then fuse the antibody with human bone cancer cells, which tend to proliferate like mad. This allows the hybridoma, as it’s called, to divide and multiply. You select the most effective hybridoma culture, propagate it in the lab or in mice, and then purify your MAb from them to use as a drug.”
“So where in that process did Sheila think MC124 went wrong?”
“That’s the big question. McKinnon is truly convinced it works and is safe. But Sheila had such a thorough mind, she insisted on getting to the bottom of whether it killed this mouse. I still don’t know why she left the group. I don’t think McKinnon forced her.”
I remembered my tape. “So what exactly did Sheila bring to you? Was she carrying a big leather bag?”
Karen blinked a few times, taking herself back to that day. “I guess she was. All her data on the mouse. Samples, ELISAs, amino acid sequences, immunoassays, notebooks, printouts. Maybe — well, probably she didn’t have permission to take them from the lab.”
“I have a feeling that’s why those two guys were trying to trap you and me like rabbits. Neil Dugan wants that stuff.”
“Yeah, it could be someone reported her. It’s all at my house right now. You don’t think they’d go after it, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
Karen jumped up and went to a phone in the back of the cafe. She returned with a relieved look. “You were right. They came. Tried to push their way in. My roommate called the police, and they backed off.”
“It’s good to know they’ll stop at something.”
“Well, they’ll have to stop some more. I’m going to get a restraining order slapped on those guys. You’ve got their names?”
I nodded. “What about Gregory? And your job?”
A sudden laugh erupted from Karen. “At that company? The axe is about to fall anyway. BioVerge is going nowhere.”
I gave her Pratt’s card. “How did you get hooked up with Gregory in the first place? You seem like—”
“I should have known better?” She let out a mock wail. “Don’t remind me! At the time, bioinformatics was the hottest pot boiling on the stove. I came in with Ron, Gregory’s partner. Ron’s a top-notch guy, but he didn’t know the IT side. Gregory acted like he had it licked. He totally evangelized us. We signed on the dotted line.”
I gave a wry smile. “I know the feeling. I got drawn into all this doing film work for Kumar Biotechnics. Gregory tried to make me believe they were stealing some software of yours, and I should hand over Kumar’s footage.”
“What a joke. Kumar’s got BioVerge licked from here to Toledo. I’m sure they’ll get the LifeScience contract. Then Gregory’s little shell game will be kaput.”
“Certain things are starting to fall into place.”
“That little rat. I knew something was up. He told me to come down for some mysterious meeting today. Then he stuck me in a side room and disappeared into the conference. When I heard him railing at Rikki, I got worried. He was out of control. I went for the exit.”
“We can go rescue your car later tonight.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get a few friends together to do it.”
I sat back. Karen had that ready look on her face again. She had trusted me. It was time to trust her. “I have a copy of Sheila’s diary. I also found some disks in her apartment. If we put them together with what you know about her research, we might come up with some answers to how she was killed. What do you say?”
We were alone in the cafe now. The handful of people who’d been lingering from lunch had left. Karen’s mouth curved into a small Mona Lisa smile. I took it for agreement, and smiled back. Then her eyes wandered over to the glass case by the cash register. “God, wouldn’t you just love a piece of chocolate cake right now?”
22
There was only one way Gregory could have gotten Jenny’s address: Neil Dugan. The same connection, I figured, that had resulted in Pratt busting into the parking lot to get me and Karen. Gregory had set me up completely. Yet I’d played a part, too: I was the one who’d told Dugan and Harros to call Gregory to validate my reason for being in that parking lot on the night Sheila was killed.
And I knew it had to be Gregory. I knew it before I saw the boot print. After leaving Karen, I’d come to Jenny’s. I rang the bell and pounded on the door. No answer. I used my key to get in. There was a strong alcohol smell. I went straight to the kitchen. The back door had been kicked in. Crockery and glass were in shards all over the floor.
I called for Jenny, knowing I wouldn’t get a response. The dining room was untouched, but the white curtains in the living room were torn down. The rods were in pieces in front of the window. Lamps were broken and lolling on the floor. For a moment I wondered if Jenny had had a massive tantrum.
Then the huge stain jumped out from the cream white carpet and sofa. Blood, I thought. I knelt to touch it. No, it was too purple, too aromatic. I noticed the jagged shards of a wine bottle. It had been smashed against the coffee table. The liquid was splattered everywhere. The diagonals of a boot print confirmed my intuition of who’d done it.
I checked in the bedroom and bathroom. They’d been similarly wrecked. The shower curtain was ripped from its rings. Toiletries littered the tile. But there was no sign of Jenny.
I rushed to the Scout. It never occurred to me to call the police. My only thought was to find him. He wouldn’t have taken her to the office, I was sure of that. But I’d force Rikki to give me his home address. And then I’d find Gregory and wring his neck like a dishcloth.
Rikki just about jumped out of her chair when I barged into the BioVerge lobby. She opened her mouth without speaking. “Where is he?” I yelled. I slapped my hands on the counter and leaned toward her without lowering my voice. “Give me his address!”
“He’s — he’s — in his office?”
The direction of her glance told me which way to go. I marched down the corridor. If any of the employees I passed had any sense, they’d have tried to stop me.
The door to Gregory’s office was closed. I paused just a moment, then burst in. I had no intention of stopping at the threshold to talk. I plunged straight for his desk. But his chair was empty.
The telephone was buzzing. That would be Rikki, announcing my arrival. The sound of running water came from behind a closed door across the room. I rushed through the door and into a large bathroom. The carpeting was plush, even more cushy than in the office. I never did like people who carpeted their bathrooms. Gregory stood in front of a sink, reaching for a towel.
He caught sight of me charging him in a mirror framed like a big painting that hung above the sink. He turned, holding up the towel in defense or surrender — I didn’t care which. I took his left wrist in both hands and wrenched it up behind his back. He bellowed. I used my body to shove his hips hard against the sink. Now I had a good enough hold on his arm with my left hand to use my right to grab his hair. But it was too short to grip, so I twisted his right ear. In the mirror I could see his forehead, corrugated in pain.
“Where is she, Gregory? Where’s Jenny?”
“Fuuuuck!” he screamed.
“Speak softly, please.” I wrenched his arm harder behind his back. He screamed again. I looked around. The glass-enclosed shower was empty. The treadmill was quiet. She wasn’t here.
I jerked his ear up so I could see his face full in the mirror. Relaxing my hold on his left arm a tad, I said in a calmer voice, “Just tell me where Jenny is, and I’ll leave you alone.”