“Decameron kept the data at his house?” Marge said.

“Why not?” Oliver said.

Decker answered, “He said Sparks kept the latest numbers in his files.”

“So he went through Sparks’s files before he left yesterday, found the data, slipped it into his briefcase, and took it home with him.”

“Where’s his briefcase?” Decker asked.

“Good question,” Marge said.

She continued sorting through the flotsam and jetsam of Leonard’s wallet. Receipts, credit card slips, several worn business cards. Marge pulled them out, flipped through them. Her soft brown eyes grew in circumference. “Oh man, look at this! The stiff worked for Fisher/Tyne.”

Decker took the card out of her hand. Across the middle in boldface type were the words FISHER/TYNE, above it an apothecary logo of a mortar and pestle. In the right-hand corner was the name DR. KENNETH LEONARD. Underneath the name was the title VICE PRESIDENT OF RESEARCH DESIGN.

“Wait till Shockley gets wind of this,” Marge said.

“Maybe he already knows about it,” Oliver said. “Maybe he ordered the hit.”

Decker said, “That’s a strong statement. Back it up with a reason, Scotty.”

“The trial results were disappointing. Decameron was going to make the numbers public; ergo all that money Fisher/Tyne had invested in Curedon was going by way of the crapper. Shockley didn’t want that. He sent Leonard down to convince him not to do it.”

Marge said, “Decameron wouldn’t go public, Scott. He was trying to solve the data problem.”

Decker said, “And if Leonard was sent down to off Decameron, why are they both dead, Scotty?”

Oliver smiled. “Haven’t worked out all the bugs in the theory. Was the guy married?”

“Doesn’t say so on his license,” Marge said. “Why?”

“Just wondering who to notify,” Oliver said.

Marge made a face. “Guess we should go to his place and see if he lives with anyone.”

Oliver said, “Better yet, why don’t we pay Fisher/Tyne another visit. Break the news about Leonard, and gauge Shockley’s reaction?”

Decker said, “You can do that.”

Oliver grinned. “How about subpoenaing the asshole if he doesn’t show us the Curedon data?”

“No, Detective, you may not do that,” Decker said. “Sure, you can make a little noise. But don’t lean on Shockley. Because we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“Do you want me to call Webster and Martinez down to do evidence here?” Marge pointed to the murder scene.

“I can go through it myself.”

Marge stared at Decker.

“What?” Decker said, annoyed.

Oliver sensed tension, said, “I think I’ll go place that call to the coroner’s office.”

When he was out of earshot, Marge said, “Pete, you’ve got a squad room to run—”

“I’m well aware of my duties, Marge.”

Marge looked up at the ceiling. “I just don’t want them talking, you know?”

“Talking about what?”

“That you’re giving Homicide top priority.”