“Bye.” He hung up the phone and hailed one of the cabs idling a few feet away in front of the hospital’s main entrance. As he climbed into the backseat, Kilburn heard a voice on the radio in a language that he guessed was Turkish. The young driver with the crew cut glanced at him in the mirror. “Where to, sir?” he asked in a thick Middle Eastern accent.

Kilburn gave him Lopez’s office address. As soon as he’d buckled his seat belt, he dialed Horton’s direct line at SeptoMed. By the fifth ring, he was expecting voicemail, so he was surprised to hear her answer. “Ellen, it’s Graham,” he said.

“Hello, Graham,” she said distantly.

Kilburn couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “Are you sitting down?”

“Hmmm,” Horton murmured.

“Oraloxin works, Ellen. It really works!” Kilburn said. “All ten patients in Seattle are showing some degree of response after twenty-four hours!”

“That’s great,” she said, but her tone conveyed neither surprise nor enthusiasm.

“Oraloxin saved the life of a little girl. Ten years old and on the verge of death! But, Ellen, your drug saved her.”

“That’s terrific,” Horton said remotely. “But it’s not my drug alone. I worked with a team.”

“I don’t understand,” Kilburn said. “Oraloxin is making an impact that you can’t have imagined in your dreams. Why don’t you sound more pleased?”

There was a deathly long pause on the line. Finally, she said in a subdued tone, “A colleague and friend, Viktor Leschuk, died a couple days ago. We worked together for nearly five years. He was a key part of Oraloxin’s development.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kilburn said in genuine sympathy. “What happened?”

“Fishing accident,” she said. “The coroner ruled it an accidental drowning.”

Kilburn was perplexed by her choice of terms. Before he could ask about it, he heard a soft whimpering. He realized she was crying. “Ellen? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not sure that I am.”

“Ellen, I’m so sorry about your friend—”

“It’s not just Vik,” she sobbed. “Nothing is right around here, Graham. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Slow down, Ellen,” he said. “I’m not following you. Tell me what’s going on.”

Her voice steadied. “Look, there have been problems with Oraloxin for months. We’ve known about them in the lab. I should’ve said something sooner.” Her voice took on an anxious edge. “The testing wasn’t complete when we started our clinical trials, but there was a lot of pressure to move forward. So much riding on the line …”

Kilburn waited for her to explain, but she lapsed into silence. “What problems?” he asked. “Why wasn’t it ready?”

“It’s, um, hard to explain,” she stammered. She sniffled. “Maybe, if I could tell you in person, if you came to Philadelphia …”