“When was the last time you actually saw him?” Oliver repeated.

“Oh gosh! He cut our research meeting short. It must have ended around seven-thirty, maybe quarter to eight.”

“Why did he cut the meeting short?” Marge asked.

Fulton said, “Well, he really didn’t cut it short, per se. He just summed things up rather quickly after he took the phone call from his son. He gave no reason for hurrying things along.”

“Did he seem upset after the phone call?”

“He was upset when he took the call. He was angry at—” She stopped short.

Oliver said, “Dr. Decameron told us he had an argument with Dr. Sparks.”

“It wasn’t an argument. Dr. Sparks just became a little irritated shall we say.”

“Irritated at Decameron.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Her eyes grew suspicious. “Dr. Decameron didn’t tell you?”

“We’d like your opinion,” Marge said.

She stared at Marge, appeared to be weighing her words. “Dr. Decameron read some of Dr. Sparks’s faxes. The latest Curedon trial results. Of course, Reggie apologized right away. He was just excited about the data. You see, there had been some slowdown of Curedon’s efficacy rate. The newest numbers however were very encouraging.”

“Yeah, Dr. Decameron told us something about that,” Oliver said. “How you’ve been getting a lot more deaths lately.”

She bristled. “Not a lot. Just some…Dr. Decameron seems to feel it might be a lab or computer processing error.”

Oliver said, “Maybe he’s making excuses because he’s anxious to bring Curedon to market.”

Marge said, “Big boost in his career as an academician, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Maybe he’s even been promised a piece of the profits,” Oliver suggested.

“No, no, no,” Liz protested. “That’s entirely false. The only one who would gain anything monetarily is…was Azor. You’re way off base.”

“You’re sure about that,” Marge said.

“Sure I’m…at least to my knowledge.”

“Let’s go back to the meeting,” Marge said. “It ended around seven-thirty maybe quarter to eight?”

“About that time, yes. Then Dr. Sparks and Dr. Decameron walked out together. Maybe that was ten minutes later.”

“Did Dr. Sparks seem in a hurry?”

“Well, he did push the meeting. But no…he didn’t seem as if he was rushing to get somewhere. Of course, that wasn’t Dr. Sparks’s manner…to hurry things.”

Marge said, “Did Dr. Decameron and Dr. Sparks often have arguments?”

Fulton gave a mysterious smile. “One doesn’t argue with Azor—with Dr. Sparks. Yes, we do have some academic exchange of ideas. But you try not to displease him. If you do, then you figure out what you’ve done and make amends. You either play his game or you’re not on the team.”

“That doesn’t make you feel…hemmed in?” Oliver asked.