Franklin leaned back in his seat. “You’ve heard, then?”

“Lieutenant, the entire world has heard,” she said.

“Not good for SeptoMed,” Franklin pointed out.

“No,” Byington sighed. “But the worries of SeptoMed and its shareholders are probably not your overriding concern.”

Franklin leaned forward in his seat. “Andrea, do you know where Luc Martineau is?”

She shook her head.

“When did you last see him?” Franklin asked.

“Yesterday morning after our interview with the doctors, we discussed the developments for another few minutes. Then Luc left. I haven’t seen him since.”

“How would you characterize that private meeting?” Cohen asked.

Byington viewed him with a semi-amused smile. “I think you can imagine that our CEO was less than pleased to hear about the bone marrow complications of a SeptoMed drug from three West Coast doctors.” She paused. “Harvey had a few pointed words for Luc.”

“And you?” Cohen asked.

She frowned. “Me?”

Cohen nodded. “How did you feel about hearing of the drug’s side effect that way?”

Byington’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t shed her smile. “I’m a board member, and I have a substantial financial interest in the company,” she said, “but I’m not responsible for operations like Harvey is.”

Cohen nodded. “Have you known Martineau for long?”

“Three years or so.”

“Do you know him well?” Cohen asked.

Byington considered the question. “I suppose,” she said. “We’ve been lovers on and off since we met.”

Kilburn nudged Lopez in surprise, and the two detectives beside her exchanged whispers.

“Are you on or off these days?” Cohen asked.

“If you consider last week ‘these days’, then I suppose we’re on,” Byington said.

Cohen put his good arm on the table, palm down. “Do you think Luc Martineau is capable of this?”

“You mean killing three of our own scientists?” Byington asked.

“And deliberately releasing a deadly bacteria,” Cohen added.

Byington stared at Cohen for several seconds, and sighed. “Luc is the most wildly ambitious and selfish man I have ever met. He has shown more than the occasional flash of corporate ruthlessness. I’ve often thought there was nothing he wouldn’t do to advance his own career.” Then her voice lowered. “But this? No, I don’t think even he is capable of this.”

Franklin folded his arms across his chest. “Then maybe you can explain why he tried to sell two hundred thousand shares of stock and move three quarters of a million dollars into an offshore account an hour after the explosion at SeptoMed?”

Byington’s eyes grew large. “He did?”

“Would you expect Luc to have that kind of money in cash?” Cohen asked.

Byington’s eyes dropped to the table. She shook her head slightly.

“Can you think of where he might have gotten it?” Cohen asked.

Byington was quiet for a long time. “That son of a bitch,” she muttered.

“Andrea?” Cohen said.