“U. of Penn. emergency room.” Franklin exhaled heavily. “You know, KC, short of a curse from an Egyptian tomb, luck can’t be as bad as what’s happened to SeptoMed’s scientists over the past weeks.”

“Ed, you better look very closely at Horton’s suicide and Leschuk’s boating accident.”

“I’m ahead of you,” Franklin said. “Struble Lake is a little beyond my jurisdiction, but I’m getting my boys to go over the Horton suicide scene again with a microscope.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, Seth, I’m not wild about having you and the two doctors running a parallel investigation—”

“I’m not here to meddle,” Cohen reassured. “I’ve only come to find the man who murdered two people on my turf. Maybe it’s the same person as the one hunting down these scientists, maybe not. But we won’t get in your way.”

“Sure, KC, sure,” Franklin grumbled. “And that smell that’s suddenly wafting out of my phone is roses, huh?”

“We only need another day or so,” Cohen said. “We have most of what we need already.”

“You finish up by tomorrow, okay?” Franklin sighed. “This thing is turning ugly.”

“Tomorrow,” Seth promised.

“Seth, are you packing?” Franklin asked.

“With the new airline security measures, I had no time to get my gun here,” Cohen said.

Franklin grunted. “Stop by my office later today, okay?”

By the time Cohen hung up, Kilburn walked toward them from the other side of the lobby. Nearing, his brow creased. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Someone ran Neil Ryland’s car off the road last night,” Cohen said.

Kilburn’s jaw fell open. “What? Ryland?! Did he make it?”

“Sounds like he’s in stable condition,” Cohen said.

Kilburn’s face darkened. “Wayne Forbes?”

“Probably.” Cohen summarized his conversation with Franklin.

“We better get to the hospital,” Kilburn said.

Lopez glanced at her watch. “Oksana Leschuk is waiting for us now. We can visit Ryland on the way back.”

They took another cab and headed north of the city to the tidy residential streets of Germantown. The driver dropped them off outside a modest white bungalow with tidy green shutters and a perfectly groomed lawn. Wearing a heavy black dress, Oksana Leschuk met them at the front door. She was a stocky woman with long black hair, blue eyes, and sharp features, but she struck Cohen as handsome. Although her eyes were dry and she smiled pleasantly, her grief was palpable, as was her apprehensiveness.

Oksana led them into a cozy living room filled with chunky furniture and knickknacks and smelling of candles. Aside from a few Russian Orthodox icons, the walls were covered with photos of their son and daughter at various stages of childhood and adolescence. Among these was a single black-and-white wedding photo depicting a young Oksana and Viktor.