“Your work is so important,” Byington said emphatically. “Obviously, Oraloxin won’t hurt SeptoMed’s share prices, but it means much more than that.”

“Yes,” Horton said. “Having an oral antibiotic to treat MRSA will offer a whole—”

“Of course, Ellen, that’s a vital breakthrough,” Byington interrupted the pat speech with a slightly condescending smile. “But even more important, your drug could reinvigorate antibiotic research and development. Do you realize that in 2002, the FDA approved seventy-nine new drugs and not one of them was an antibiotic?”

Horton shook her head and Ryland shrugged, but Leschuk nodded to the table.

“And why would we drug companies throw money into antibiotic R-and-D?” She held her palms out in front of her. “It costs millions—sometimes billions—and for what? If you’re lucky enough to succeed, you produce a drug that people might take for seven, maximum ten days, at a time. Whereas if we produce a new blood pressure or prostate medication, the patient is committed to a lifetime’s worth of prescriptions.”

Martineau placed both hands on the tabletop. “Not to mention the risks,” he said gravely.

“Exactly, Luc!” Byington said. “Our last two antibiotics cost SeptoMed in the neighborhood of four hundred million dollars and neither made it to market. One didn’t work and the other had intolerable side effects. Statistically, only one in seven new antibiotics ever do reach market.” She stared at Horton. “Even then, there are no guarantees. You remember trovofloxacin? A terrific antibiotic that just happened to cause a rare complication of liver failure.”

Horton’s pulse sped up. She felt on edge. Byington was hitting too close to home in her comparison.

“No question trovofloxacin saved far more people than it killed, but these days that’s not acceptable,” Byington sighed. “No. The standards the FDA sets are so rigorous. Most drugs older than twenty-five years would never be approved if they had to pass muster all over again.”

Ryland folded his arms across his chest. “What’s your point, Andrea?” he asked, sounding as defensive as Horton felt.

The heiress smiled benignly. “That we’re fighting an uphill battle, but thanks to you the playing field has been leveled a little.” Byington turned to Horton and looked deep into her eyes, her own gray irises dark to the point of opacity. “Ellen, we have an obligation way beyond SeptoMed and its employees and shareholders to ensure that Oraloxin succeeds.” She paused. “Do you understand?”

A belt snapped tight against Horton’s chest. She knows, Horton thought. She knows about the chimps.

15 - Portland, Oregon

15

Portland, Oregon

When Cohen walked back into Homicide’s reception area, his partner Leetch stormed out of the back office to meet him.

“KC, I checked my e-mail twice,” he said with a smile that didn’t mask the edge in his voice. “But I never got the memo about you taking the day off.”