“And we appreciate your attention to the matter,” Pete said. “With regard to Glucotace, your observation was that patients in treatment for alcohol dependence often develop a craving for sweets, which naturally plays havoc with their insulin levels. Your idea was to control glucose as a means of minimizing the peaks and valleys. Use of Glucotace, in this instance, would be classified as off-label.”

The doctor smiled. “And you know this how? I’m just curious.”

“Get an NIH grant and much of this is public record. The rest I picked up on my own. Success here would go a long way toward boosting your career. Comes to publishing, you’re already ahead of the curve. How many papers in this year alone? Forty-seven by my count. You’re a busy boy.”

“Some of those were coauthored.”

“Duly noted. I made a copy of the list.”

Linton Reed’s face remained blank. No herding behavior here. “I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

“You want the long version or the short?”

Dr. Reed’s eyes were dead. “Keep it short.”

“There’s been some suggestion you’re cooking your data.”

“Pardon?”

“The clinical trial. You’re manipulating the numbers, making them look better than they are; something I gather you’ve done in the past. There was that business in Arkansas, which I grant you was a problem of a different sort.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I may not know the whole of it, but I know enough. Whatever’s going on is of no interest to me personally, but I gather it’s of the utmost importance to you. You have that pretty little bride of yours, new home the in-laws bought you, nice car.”

“Leave my private life out of this.”

“Just pointing out how much you have to lose. Good job, all those high-class friends. This comes to light and you can kiss all that good-bye.”

“This conversation is over.”

“Conversation’s over, but your jeopardy is not. I have an idea how you might sidestep disgrace. I’d be happy to spell it out if you’re interested.”

The good doctor’s voice dropped into the manly range that must have served him so well in other circumstances. “If you don’t leave my office this minute, I’ll call security.”

Pete stood and took out a business card that he placed on the desk. “I’d give it some thought. You’ve got a lot at stake and you can’t afford to get caught out. Even the accusation of trimming, founded or unfounded, would open up a can of worms, especially in light of your previous infractions.”

“Get out of here.”

“Call if you want to chat, buddy. I’m here for you.”