“You can un-blind the samples, so I know which one is the real McCoy. And have SeptoMed release some more to me.” His voice softened. “It would give me something to do for the patient. A glimmer of hope. Ellen, she deserves that much.”

“Graham, legally … ethically …”—the word made her flinch—“I don’t think I can.”

“Damn it, she’s only twenty!” Kilburn snapped, then his voice calmed. “She’s got a new baby. And she will be dead within a day, for sure. What’s the possible downside of trying it?”

She brushed the locks of hair away from the forehead. “I don’t know,” she said as much to herself as him.

“I don’t expect Oraloxin to work. I honestly don’t,” he coaxed. “And no one would ever have to know we even tried. But, Ellen, imagine if it does help?” He paused to let the idea sink in. “Your drug—you—would have saved a young mom. And who knows how many are going to follow her?”

The conversation lapsed into a long silence. Horton weighed the options in her mind. She understood how sternly the scientific community would frown upon this kind of wild stab with an unproven drug. Yet she felt the first twinges of genuine excitement she’d had in weeks. It wouldn’t make up for hiding the chimpanzee data. Nothing would. But if Oraloxin helped the woman? And as Kilburn had said—though she took a slightly different meaning from the reference—how much worse could it get?

“Ellen?”

“This is nuts, Graham,” she sighed. “Totally irresponsible. But let me speak to my boss, the VP of R-and-D. Luc’s the only one who can get you the information you need on unblinding the study.”

“Thank you, Ellen,” he said earnestly. “You’re doing the right thing.”

If only you knew, Graham, she thought with another stab of guilt.

21 - Portland, Oregon

21

Portland, Oregon

At ten minutes after midnight, Cohen and Leetch strolled down the same alley where Frigerator and Jimmy died. Unlike the relative quiet of that morning, the alley now hummed with nocturnal life like an Amazon jungle. Aside from the chalk marks and the partly torn crime scene tape, Cohen saw that the double murder had no effect on the illicit business carried on in the alley. He wasn’t surprised. Death was commonplace for these downtown addicts. An accepted cost of doing business.

“Man, trolling skid row in the middle of the night beats the hell outta being at home with Gina and little Sophie,” Leetch grumbled.

“Trust me, Rome, your family needs a break from you.” Cohen shrugged with a slight grin. “Besides, we’ve come up empty-handed on the crime scene. Where else are we going to find any potential witnesses?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Leetch pointed to his torn jeans and black T-shirt that strained at the middle to contain his belly. “KC, you like my gear?”