Ryland paused for a long sip of his coffee. “I bet he did. At least Harvey Abram—the CEO—but I could never prove it. And probably Lady Andrea Byington.” Ryland shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me anymore who knows. I’m through with SeptoMed. And Oraloxin. I e-mailed my resignation this morning.”

Ryland lapsed into a morose silence.

Cohen considered the next step. He had no authority to show Ryland the suicide note, but he didn’t want to miss the window of opportunity. He reached into his front pocket and pulled out the photocopied page. He placed it, still folded, on the table in front of Ryland. “Neil, you haven’t seen Ellen’s note yet, have you?”

Ryland shook his head.

Cohen pointed to the paper. “It’s addressed to you.”

Ryland’s face crumpled. He began to fight back tears.

“You don’t have to do this right now,” Cohen said.

Ryland reached forward and picked the note up off the table. He took a couple of slow, deep breaths. His face smoothed. He unfolded the page slowly. Reading Horton’s suicide note, he cocked his head to the side and his face wrinkled again, but this time in confusion. He put the note down and looked up at the others. “I don’t understand this. Ellen and I were never romantically involved. We’ve always been best friends. More like brother and sister. Maybe there was a time back when we first started … but it never amounted to anything.”

Lopez pointed to the page. “So what’s all this talk of a marriage proposal?”

“I don’t have a clue. Could she have been confused by the carbon monoxide or something?”

“It was found on her kitchen table. She wrote it before she got in the car. Is it possible Ellen was trying to tell you something that she wanted to keep private?”

“That kind of cloak-and-dagger stuff is nothing like Ellen. No question that it’s her handwriting, though,” Ryland said, pointing to the note. “Hold on!” Suddenly he shot his hand out and grabbed the letter. “‘That day at the New York Deli, …’” he read aloud. “‘How you wanted to let the rest of the world know how you felt …’” He nodded. “I bet she was referring to the day Vik tried to convince us to go to the FDA.” He glanced down at the page. “‘I was scared what might happen if people found out about us.’” He paused. “I think she’s talking about Oraloxin and the aplastic anemia. But the rest …” Ryland dropped the note on the table. “Ellen is trying to tell me something here, but I don’t know what.”

Cohen picked up the letter and read another passage. “‘But I didn’t need to be scared of the world. The risk was all inside.” He stared at Ryland. “What ‘risk’ inside?”

Ryland shook his head.

“Could this be a warning to you?” Cohen asked.