“Not at all.” Berger stood on his tiptoes and extracted the larger medical tomes from the highest shelf. “I’m not running out on anyone.” His voice was remarkably steady. “I’ve applied for a much deserved sabbatical. And I’m taking it whether or not it’s approved.”

“Leaving the hospital in the lurch,” Marge said. “New Chris has already lost Sparks and Decameron. Without you, it’s going to fold.”

“Better that than the hospital providing me a hero’s burial.” He stepped down, holding an armful of books. “You two don’t have a smidgen of empathy regarding my plight, do you?”

“I have a smidgen,” Oliver said.

The doctor shook his head, kneeled down, and placed the texts in a box. “Figures. The police are noted for their lack of human compassion.”

Oliver said, “Why were you and Shockley fudging the Curedon data?”

Berger jerked his head up. “Come again?”

“You and Shockley had hacked into Fisher/Tyne’s data banks and were doing funny business with Kenneth Leonard’s Curedon numbers. I want to know why.”

“You’re crazy. You’ve got no warrant. Get out of here.”

Marge said, “We’ve traced a cuckoo’s egg to your computer, Dr. Berger. Ordinarily, computer hacking’s a federal crime. Meaning you’d plea your case to the FBI. But since we’ve got the rather major matter of a couple of murders—”

“I had nothing to do with them!” Berger snapped. “Look, people! Open your eyes! I’m terrified! What the hell do you two want from me.”

“How about some answers to some questions.”

“But I don’t know anything!”

“I think you do,” Oliver said. “I think you knew that Kenneth Leonard was on to you and Shockley.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea to what you’re referring. You’re talking gobbledygook.”

“Look, sir,” Marge said patiently, “why don’t you just start at the beginning. Because, at the very least, you’re going to get hit with charges of scientific fraud.”

Berger’s eyes darted from side to side. “Get out of here! Both of you! And take your disgusting accusations with you.”

Oliver held up a dozen sheets of computer paper. “Know what these are?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care.”

Marge said, “They’re the latest Curedon data trials, Dr. Berger. Does that pique your interest?”

Berger stopped packing, ran his tongue across his teeth.

Oliver said, “The latest report given to the FDA by Decameron himself. After he ran the data. Decameron ran it. Not Fisher/Tyne. Know what? These numbers looked very promising. Which is particularly puzzling. Because the numbers Fisher/Tyne had been giving the FDA hadn’t been all that hot. And Gordon Shockley had told us that his numbers hadn’t been too good, either.”

Marge said, “Which means there was a discrepancy between Decameron’s statistics and what Fisher/Tyne was reporting to the FDA.”