Bad Medicine Read online

  “Still take it black?”

  I smiled and took one of the coffees. “Still black. I’m surprised you remember. It’s been nearly two years.”

  “Yes, but we went through a pretty intense time together. Things stick. How’s Karen doing?”

  “She’s good. She’s with the FBI now, you know.”

  “And the two of you are still together? Happy? I always saw myself as a bit of a matchmaker, even if it was inadvertent.”

  I laughed. True, she’d introduced us when she directed me to work with Karen on the Singer case. But I wasn’t sure that qualified as being a matchmaker.

  “Karen and I are living together now, and we’re doing great. But I’m not sure that introducing us by forcing us to work together gives you matchmaker status. As I remember, you were actually pretty ticked off when we first became romantically involved.”

  She gave me a playful wink. “Only because it screwed up my investigation. And anyway, all’s well that ends well.”

  “Fair enough. As president, you’re entitled to claim whatever secondary title you please. How do you like running the university?”

  I was beginning to wonder what this meeting was about. She couldn’t really have time to have brought me here simply for a reunion chat.

  “I’m not sure I ever get enough time to think about how I like it. It’s insanely busy, mostly with fundraising. There are some rewarding aspects, but also some tough decisions. Especially when it comes to personnel. When I was dean, I always thought dealing with tenure cases was the hardest thing I had to do. The responsibility of recommending whether or not a young faculty member would keep their job or get kicked out on their ass weighed on me. But now the weight of that decision is much greater. As dean, I just made a recommendation. As president, I have the final say in making or breaking someone’s career.”

  “I can imagine. Tenure was always the toughest thing for me to deal with when I was department chair. It tore me up when I had to make a negative recommendation. Sometimes it was clearly the right thing to do, but other times it could just be that they hadn’t published in quite the right journals or hadn’t gotten invited to enough of the top conferences. In cases like that, it just didn’t seem fair. I’m glad to be out of that now.”

  She nodded sympathetically. “Yes, I can understand why you feel that way. Unfortunately, I’ve asked you here because I need you to get back into a leadership position. If only for a short while.”

  So that’s why I was here. Another leadership position. What the hell did that mean? Department chair again? Or something worse, like being a dean. Whatever it was, I had to get out of it. I’d done my time.

  I took a scone to pause the conversation before answering. I couldn’t just refuse a direct request from the president of the university. But maybe I could wriggle my way out of it.

  “I’m sorry. You know I’d like to help if I could. But I’m just getting my lab going again after being away for a year on sabbatical. Our research is finally off the ground, and we’ve reached a critical stage where I need to recruit new students and build momentum. There’s no way I can afford to take on an administrative role now.”

  Her face hardened as she sat up straight in her chair. “I understand, but I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important. Yes, it’ll take some of your time, but it won’t be for long. And I’m quite sure you’ll be able to continue your research. BTI needs your help, Brad, and I want you to hear me out.”

  The look on her face left no question that I was talking to President Houghton, not chatting with an old friend.

  “Of course. I apologize if I sounded too negative at first.” What else could I say?

  “Good, thank you. What do you know about MTRI, the Maine Translational Research Institute?”

  “Not much. I know that BTI is involved in some sort of satellite operation in Maine, but I haven’t paid much attention to it.”

  “Yes, I’ve gotten the idea that you’d rather ignore university politics. Anyway, you’re correct. MTRI’s been in operation for about four years now. It’s staffed by twenty or so principal investigators, all of whom hold faculty positions at BTI.”

  “Why set up an operation like that in Maine instead of here? It has to be tough to operate a satellite research facility from a distance.”

  She took a sip of coffee. “It is, but there seems to be a need. Maine has a big cancer problem, with an incidence substantially higher than the national average. Lung cancer, of course, is the biggest offender. The focus of MTRI is experimental cancer treatment, and we hope it provides Mainers with some additional options for taking advantage of the latest advances. As well as giving our faculty members a chance to recruit a new patient population for clinical trials.”

  “Got it. So the advantage for us is that a satellite facility up there can recruit patients without having to directly compete with all the other places in Boston.”

  “Right, while at the same time, offering patients from Maine access to all the trials that are going on at the Boston hospitals we’re affiliated with.”

  “Okay, sounds like a good deal for both Maine and BTI. Where’s it located?”

  “We wanted it to be close enough to Boston that going back and forth would be easy, as well as serving a part of the state that wasn’t right on top of the Maine Medical Center in Portland. We found a spot on the southern coast in Wells. It’s only about ninety minutes from here.”

  “And what’s the problem? Isn’t it working out?”

  She sighed. “I have a director who’s resigned in the middle of an especially messy tenure controversy. There are two assistant professors coming up for tenure at the same time, and one of them is claiming some of the senior faculty are biased against her. Worse than that, she’s suggested that her research may have been sabotaged by the other candidate. The director of the institute doesn’t buy into her accusations, and the whole place seems embroiled in this ugly tenure fight. In the meantime, the director resigned his position two weeks ago. He had a standing offer from Princeton, and I think he basically decided that he didn’t need to hassle with this kind of crap.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please tell me that you’re not asking me to step in as director in the middle of this mess. True, cancer research is my field—but I’m a basic scientist, not a clinician.”

  “Just on a temporary basis, as acting director. I’m already talking to a good candidate for the position, but she can’t come for another six months. And I’m aware that you’re not a physician, but you know enough about cancer treatment to manage things as a stopgap. What we really need is someone who can handle the personnel crisis—which is what you’re good at.”

  “But I can’t just pick up and move to Maine for six months. It’ll set my lab back to square one. Not to mention leaving Karen.”

  “You wouldn’t have to be there full-time. Remember, it’s only ninety minutes away. We’d set you up with a house in Wells, and you could arrange to spend maybe two or three days a week there. And I’m sure Karen would enjoy spending some time up there, too. I understand it’s a nice place in the summer.”

  She had it all planned out. And it was hard—if not impossible—to refuse a direct request from the president of the university. I made one last objection, even though I knew it wouldn’t hold.

  “I don’t know. Being away from the lab for even a few days a week is a problem. The students working with me are still new, they need daily guidance.”

  “Would it help if I provided funding for a senior research associate to supervise the lab while you’re away? The kind of support we provided when you were department chair. I’m happy to do anything I can to make this work for you.”

  I sighed inwardly. That didn’t leave me much of an out. “Yes, that would certainly help maintain continuity in the lab. I appreciate it.”

  She smiled. “Good. And housing? Maybe a place on the beach? MTRI’s only a couple of miles inland from the coast.”

  This was gett
ing tempting, at least since it was clear that I couldn’t say no. Karen and I had enjoyed visiting Wells Beach last summer, before we got embroiled in the nightmare of Walter Monroe. A couple of days a week there, with visits from Karen, wouldn’t be a bad thing. Especially since I didn’t have any choice.

  I inclined my head in a gesture of acceptance. “As long as dogs are allowed. We won’t want to leave Rosie at home.”

  Claire Houghton rolled her eyes. “Rosie’s your pug, isn’t she? Okay, dog-friendly it’ll be.”

  3

  I brought both candidates’ files home that evening. They’d been waiting for me when I left President Houghton’s office, a symbolic reminder that I never really had any choice about accepting my new assignment.

  The walk home still felt a bit odd to me. Karen and I had bought the house in Brookline together a little over six months ago. Neither her old condo in the North End nor mine in Back Bay was big enough for both of us, and it had gotten to the point where shuttling back and forth between the two places was a substantial nuisance. We’d finally taken the leap and sold them both to buy a newly renovated three-bedroom colonial, which gave each of us an office and all the room we needed to officially live together. It was on a tree-lined street that was close to the city, but not in the middle of it, so it had a pleasantly suburban feeling. There was even a deck and a backyard, which we promptly fenced in so that Rosie could have a place of her own. And like my old place, it was just over a mile from my lab at BTI. I just had to remember to head west instead of east on Commonwealth Avenue when I left the office.

  This evening, I was sufficiently preoccupied with the MTRI tenure cases that I turned the wrong way when I started home, proceeding east on Commonwealth in the direction of my old condo. I’d gone a couple of blocks before I caught myself and turned around. It didn’t matter; there was no particular rush. I’d be home by six, and Karen was planning to leave work early to relax and cook dinner, which I figured would provide a quiet evening to tell her about my new job.

  Except when I got home, Karen was nowhere to be found. Instead, I was greeted by an excited Rosie who was equally eager for affection, a treat, and a chance to go out. I picked her up for a cuddle, gave her a piece of her favorite chicken jerky, and followed her out to the deck, where I sat in one of the lounge chairs while she ran around sniffing until she was satisfied that everything was in order. At which point she relieved herself, ran back to the deck, and jumped up in my lap.

  So where was Karen? I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of worry. Being an FBI agent wasn’t exactly a hazard-free occupation. But she hadn’t said that anything in particular was planned for today, and it wasn’t unusual for her to be late. Sometimes things came up unexpectedly. And it was only a few minutes after six, not that late. Except that she’d been planning to come home early.

  Just as I was thinking that a text would have been nice, my phone buzzed.

  Sorry, some unplanned crap hit. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Home in an hour or so. I’ll tell you about it then. And I’ll still handle dinner!

  I smiled as I read it. She must have read my mind, which was something she seemed to have a way of doing. But if she was still thinking about dinner, whatever had happened couldn’t be all that bad. Although in Karen’s world, “not that bad” could include some pretty violent crimes.

  A light rain started to fall, so I went in and gave Rosie her dinner. Then I poured myself a glass of scotch and settled into my usual chair in the living room—Karen called it my Archie Bunker chair—with the tenure files. I’d gone through them during the day, but I’d had other distractions. An hour before Karen got home would give me time for an uninterrupted second look.

  I started with Mark Heller. There was no question about his case—he’d been a golden boy from day one. He’d obtained both an MD and a PhD in cancer biology from Harvard, followed by three years of clinical research at Stanford. He had publications in top journals from both Harvard and Stanford, which had gotten him a position as an assistant professor at BTI six years ago. He’d then spearheaded the development of a new drug—aloxinor—that was targeted against one of the genes frequently involved in lung cancers. Heller had not only done the lab work on aloxinor, but he’d then shepherded the drug through a successful clinical trial. It was now an approved treatment that promised to extend the lives of many lung cancer patients, although there was still the problem that it was only effective for a few months. After that, cancers that had initially responded became resistant and patients relapsed. His research was now concentrated on finding ways to overcome that problematic drug resistance, and he’d jumped at the chance to recruit an expanded patient population by moving to MTRI three years ago.

  His record of publication in top journals had continued unabated during his years as an assistant professor, he was a frequent speaker at prestigious national and international meetings, and he’d achieved a high level of funding for his research, with both federal grants and pharmaceutical company support. Perhaps most important for a successful tenure case, twelve leaders in his field from other universities—Yale, Princeton, Harvard, Berkeley, and the like—all evaluated his accomplishments in glowing terms and stated unequivocally that he would receive tenure at their institutions.

  A case couldn’t get any stronger. The only hitch was that the second candidate, Carolyn Gelman, had accused Heller of sabotaging her research. An accusation which, if true, could very well lead to his dismissal, rather than promotion to the coveted permanent position of tenured professor.

  Gelman also had a strong record, but notably less spectacular than Heller’s. Her degrees were from Yale, followed by residency and postdoctoral research at the University of Wisconsin. As an assistant professor, she’d concentrated on combination drug therapies, in part as a way of overcoming the problem of drug resistance. Her lab was well funded, and she had several strong publications, although only two in truly top journals. None of the drug combinations she’d developed had gained FDA approval, but one was now in clinical trial. Most of the outside letters were supportive, but three of the ten noted that they’d never met her because she seldom went to meetings or gave seminars at other institutions. Consequently, although she appeared to do good work, they weren’t sure that she had established herself as a leader in her field or that she was well enough known to get tenure at their institutions.

  Those negatives were serious, but I didn’t think they were lethal in themselves. Overall, Gelman had a strong record of productivity, and the majority of outside evaluators supported her case. I also noted that she had two small children, which could be why she didn’t travel as much to meetings as she might otherwise have done.

  But that still left the problem that her case would be directly compared to Heller’s. They were both coming up for tenure at the same time from the same small satellite institution, and there was no way that the university committee responsible for evaluating tenure cases could avoid comparing them side by side. And in that comparison, Gelman would come out a weak second. It would take a strong advocate to get her successfully through the tenure process.

  Was that why Claire Houghton had asked me to step in? But Gelman had now complicated the situation further by her accusations of bias and sabotage. A critical freezer in her lab had been unplugged a couple of weeks ago, and she blamed Heller for it. It was a shocking allegation, and everything would hinge on whether or not she was believed. Getting to the bottom of her story was clearly my top priority.

  I was starting to contemplate my first moves when Rosie jumped off my lap and ran to the door. She’d sensed someone approaching the house; Karen must be home. I made a quick stop in the kitchen to pour a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and got to the door just as Karen came in. Which meant that Rosie jumped on her and I kissed her pretty much simultaneously.

  “You two certainly know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she laughed. “Is that wine for me, too?”

  “It is, and you are. Welcome, that is. But you look a
bit worn. What went on to hold you up this afternoon?”

  “Let’s sit down and I’ll fill you in. And I want to hear about your meeting with BTI’s new president.” She took my hand and led me back to the living room, where she sat on the couch and patted the seat next to her. Rosie, of course, thought that was her signal to jump up, so I had to squeeze in beside the two of them.

  “Everything was calm until around four, when I was getting ready to leave,” Karen said. “Then we got a call about a shooting at the Harbor Inn in Revere. I guess you haven’t been watching the news?”

  “No, I’ve been reading work stuff.”

  She nodded. “Got it. Anyway, three bodies were found in a room, all shot in the head at close range. Turns out the victims were Russian mobsters involved in a major drug operation.”

  “You’re assuming it was a gang hit then?”

  “That’s what we think. ME put the time of death around midnight last night. The room was registered to one of the victims, who was due to check out today. When he wasn’t heard from, the manager investigated.”

  “Any clues?”

  “Not really. There’s CCTV coverage of the hallway, which shows someone knocking on the door and entering the room just after twelve o’clock. Then the same person leaves a few minutes later. His face is hidden both times, so no way we can make an ID.”

  “Sounds like the victims knew the killer if they let him in, right?”

  “That’s what we think. Our agents have been watching the guys who were shot for several months now and think they’ve been skimming cash off the top. The Russians are notorious for not tolerating that kind of thing, so our bet is that the killer was a mob enforcer who set up a meet. When they let him in, he did his work.”

  “Any chance of getting him?”

  “I doubt it. He’s obviously a pro to finish off three victims like that. Otherwise, we don’t have a clue. He’ll be long gone by now.”