“And they also created a lethal bacteria that only their drug can treat,” Ryland cut in.

“But the new bug isn’t a threat outside the lab,” Lopez said gravely. “Unless someone releases it.”

“Oh my God!” Ryland said slowly. “It makes perfect twisted sense. The company spent hundreds of millions developing Oraloxin. If the chimp data got released it would all go out the window—unless the drug was made to look so essential that the FDA would be forced to overlook the side effect.” He shook his head as much as his range of motion would allow. “SeptoMed’s last two antibiotics were busts. I don’t know if the company could survive a third hit.”

“Could Ellen, Vik, and you have survived that, Neil?” Cohen asked quietly.

“A lot easier for us,” Ryland snorted. “We even talked about such a failure shortly before Vik died. We could’ve gone back to the drawing board with a university or another drug company. I doubt SeptoMed would have that luxury.”

Cohen agreed. “Who else at SeptoMed knew about the resistant bug you synthesized?”

“A couple of our senior lab techs. Two of our pharmacologists.” His good eye narrowed and his voice lowered. “And Luc Martineau.”

“You sure Martineau knew?” Kilburn asked.

“Yes,” Ryland said. “He even visited the lab two or three times to view the culture plates himself. He was very curious about the whole process.”

“Curious?” Lopez frowned. “What does Martineau know about microbiology?”

“A lot,” Ryland said. “Before he became one of the suits, he was a moderately well respected researcher. He has a Ph.D. in molecular biology.”

Kilburn felt his heart pound against his ribcage. “Would Martineau have enough know-how to be able to transfer the resistance genes from one type of bacteria to another?”

Ryland thought for a moment. “I think so,” he said slowly. “And if not, he almost certainly would have known someone who could do it for him.”

Kilburn shared a glance with Lopez and Cohen.

“I know this much,” Ryland continued, his voice cracking. “Martineau could never have survived as VP of Research and Development if a third antibiotic failed.”

60 - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

60

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Outside the Sixteenth District police station, Cohen looked from Kilburn to Lopez. “I think Ed Franklin needs to know,” Cohen said in a tone that sought their consent.

Lopez met his stare. “About the Martineau connection?”

Cohen nodded.

“Go tell him.” Kilburn pointed at the entrance with a half smile. “We’ll wait here.”

Cohen followed the stairs up to Homicide. The same indifferent receptionist waved him down the hallway to Franklin’s office. When he walked in, Franklin rose to his towering height, extended his hand, and grinned. “How’s the rogue cop making out?”

Cohen met the handshake. “So-so.”