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  He paled beneath my onslaught, but his recovery was quick. “Who the hell do you think you are! I’m the cornerstone of this institution, the best-funded faculty member here. You can’t threaten me like that.” He snickered. “You’re nothing but a temporary acting director. Just what is it you think you can do to me?”

  “I’m aware of your funding. A good-sized NIH grant and a contract with a drug company. It’s impressive. But I’m also aware that you occupy nearly twice the amount of lab space as can be justified by the amount of money that you bring in. Do you want to push me into reducing your space allocation to a more appropriate level?”

  He flushed a deep red. “My space is fully used. I have more than two dozen postdocs in my group, most of whom have independent fellowship funding. The lab isn’t supported just by my own grants.”

  That was the answer I’d expected. And it gave me the ammunition I needed.

  “The fellowships your postdocs have pay their salaries, nothing more. They don’t bring in the indirect costs we need to provide the facilities and administrative support that’s required to run the institute. That only comes from major grants and contracts. My policy for space allocation at MTRI is going to be the same as it is at most other research institutes. Namely, each investigator will be expected to bring in funding with sufficient indirect costs to support his or her assigned lab space. You fall far short of that expectation.”

  He jumped out of his chair, shaking with rage. “You can’t cut my lab space! That would cripple us.”

  I looked up at him with a mocking smile. “Thank you for coming to see me. I’m sure we understand each other much better now.”

  Carlson turned and stormed out of the office, slamming the door loudly behind him.

  I couldn’t suppress a sense of satisfaction as I watched him leave. Being director of MTRI could have some fun in it after all.

  7

  Anna stuck her head in moments after Carlson left. “Everything okay?”

  I smiled at her. “Just fine, why?”

  “Well, he ran out in a huff. Just thought I’d better check.”

  “He did, didn’t he? I must have said something he didn’t like.”

  She giggled. “I guess you did. And you seem to have enjoyed it.”

  “One of those small pleasures of being director,” I said. “You don’t seem to like him much, do you?”

  She shrugged. “He’s one of those older males who don’t think women belong in science. So no, I’m not a fan.”

  “I can see that. Speaking of women scientists, could you get hold of Carolyn Gelman? I’d like to see her next.”

  “Will do. In the meantime, Jim Putnam has been asking to meet with you.”

  Yes, my associate director. Time to meet him and get an administrative rundown of the place. “Is he here now?”

  “He’s in his office, just down the hall. He said I could get him whenever you were free.”

  I got up from my desk. “That’s okay, I’ll go to him. Just let me know when Gelman’s going to come in. In the meantime, you can stock me up with supplies in here.”

  She looked around. “Are you sure I can’t get something to hang on the walls? It looks so empty. Maybe a clock? And I could borrow a couple of pictures of shorebirds from the patient waiting areas.”

  I followed her gaze around the room. It did have the forlorn look of a vacated apartment. “You’re right, it does look pretty bleak.” I gave her a smile. “Birds would be great. Go for it.”

  ***

  Jim Putnam got up to greet me with a big grin when I knocked and entered through his open office door. “Brad Parker, I assume? Welcome; I’m pleased to meet you.”

  He was tall and thin, with a full head of red hair. Probably in his mid-forties, a bit young to be in this type of administrative support position.

  We shook hands. “And I you. Dan Lowell told me you were invaluable as associate director, on top of all the administrative details. I’m looking forward to getting a rundown.”

  “Happy to oblige. Where would you like to start?”

  “How about with the institute’s space plan? Perhaps you can walk me through where the labs of the different faculty are located, and give me a bit of an introduction to what their research profiles are like. Size of their research groups, their funding, that sort of thing.”

  He nodded. “That’s what I figured you’d want to see first. I have it all laid out over here.”

  We sat at his conference table, which was covered with building plans and spreadsheets. “I made copies of everything for you.” He handed me a stack of papers. “The plans show the lab space assigned to each faculty member, and I’ve put together summaries of their grants and lab personnel. I can flesh things out a bit if you want to talk through it.”

  I leafed through the documents. Putnam was efficient, for sure. I could see why Lowell had spoken highly of him. “Looks good. Yes, why don’t you give me a virtual tour.”

  “Okay, let’s start with the first floor. In addition to you and me, the administrative suite includes offices for our business manager and our grants specialist. I’ll introduce you to them later. The rest of the floor is clinical space, including the clinical director’s office. More exam rooms and clinical labs on the second floor—again we can visit that later. It’s all supported by a big clinical center grant, on which Stan Jacobs—the clinical director—is PI. Then the upper floors are faculty labs and offices. Do you want more info on the clinical operation, or should we move upstairs?”

  “Would I be safe to assume the clinic pretty much takes care of itself?”

  Putnam nodded. “It does; no problems there.”

  “Good. I’ll get Jacobs to fill me in on the details later. Let’s move on to the research.”

  He spread out plans for the five research floors. Each floor housed the laboratories of four faculty members, together with a shared kitchenette, a conference room, and a common equipment room. Each laboratory was marked with the name of the faculty member to whom the space was assigned, so I could refer to the relevant information on laboratory personnel and funding on the spreadsheet.

  With two exceptions, the labs were all about the same size and housed groups of ten or so students and postdoctoral fellows. All of the faculty members at the institute were also well funded, most with sizable NIH grants or the equivalent. There were only two apparent exceptions: Both Tom Carlson and Mark Heller had labs that were nearly twice the size of everyone else’s.

  “What’s going on with Carlson and Heller?” I asked. “They have more space and bigger groups than all the others. It looks like Carlson has a decent grant and some pharmaceutical funding, but not enough to justify all that real estate.”

  “Carlson has a lot of money that doesn’t show up on the spreadsheet. Most of his postdocs are foreign and have fellowships from their home countries. He makes a big thing about running an international lab that’s open to anyone good enough to make the grade and bring in their own support. He’s got a worldwide reputation, so he attracts a lot of foreign students with their own money.”

  I wasn’t convinced that taking a lot of foreign students just because they had fellowships was a great way to run a lab. It didn’t offer much in the way of quality control. But I let that go for now. “And Heller? It looks like most of his funding is from a company called Pharmathor.”

  “Right, he has a major long-term contract with them. They’re the same company that funds Carlson, and I believe Carlson helped him set it up. He’s worked with them for years and seems to be connected with some of their execs. Anyway, they funded Heller’s development of aloxinor, and now they’ve given him big bucks to tackle the drug resistance problem.”

  Interesting. I wondered what would happen to Heller’s funding if Carolyn Gelman’s approach to drug resistance turned out to be a success. Perhaps he had more reason than tenure to want to put her down.

  Before I could pursue that thought, Anna knocked and came in. “Sorry to int
errupt, but I just heard back from Carolyn Gelman about meeting.”

  “Good,” I said. “When is she coming in?”

  “Sorry; she said her schedule was full today, plus she has to leave early. She suggested Monday afternoon instead. Is that okay, or do you want me to tell her you need to see her today?”

  I smiled to myself. So she was too busy to meet with the new director, even though she must know I was about to play an important role in deciding her fate. It certainly fit with what Lowell and Carlson had said about her being self-centered.

  “Monday afternoon will be fine,” I told Anna. “Just set a time and put it on my calendar.”

  I had another thought as she turned to leave. “One other thing. Could you send out an email to all the senior faculty on my behalf? Just say that I’ve decided to postpone the meeting Carlson scheduled to discuss tenure cases next week until I’ve had a chance to familiarize myself with the candidates.”

  She smiled. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Anna didn’t say much, but I had a distinct feeling that she knew what was going on. And that she was firmly planted in Gelman’s corner. Seemed reasonable enough, but I wasn’t ready to take sides yet.

  I turned back to Putnam. “Looks like I’m yours for the moment. Why don’t we take a look at the institute budget? Then you can introduce me to the other administrative staff and the clinical director.”

  8

  The house on Drakes Island, just north of Wells Beach, was only about ten minutes from MTRI. I got there just before five, when we were scheduled to meet the realtor, and found Karen’s red Volvo already parked in the driveway. No Karen, so I walked around the house and found her and Rosie sitting on the back deck looking out at the ocean. My heart gave a familiar flutter as I watched Karen’s long blond hair falling around her shoulders in the afternoon breeze.

  I went over to greet her with a hug and a kiss, while Rosie jumped up and down clawing at my legs for attention. I bent down to pet her and then looked around. Our deck led right to the beach, where seagulls and sandpipers were busy frolicking in the waves.

  “Nice back here, don’t you think?” Karen said.

  “The location’s great, and the beach is beautiful. Now we just need to get in and look at the house.”

  “No problem, I’m here,” a voice behind us said. It belonged to a tall thin man who introduced himself as Martin from Ocean Realty. He proceeded to lead us back around to the front of the house, unlocked the door, and gave us a quick tour. It had an open floor plan with lots of windows featuring panoramic ocean views, and of course a sliding door leading from the living room out to the deck. The furniture looked comfortable, as did the master bedroom upstairs. There was even a fenced-in area of the yard that Rosie could call her own.

  “Looks good to me,” Karen said.

  I added my agreement, and Martin said, “Excellent. I’ll leave you to it then. I think you’ll find everything you need in the kitchen, and there should be plenty of towels and so forth upstairs. If there’s anything you need, just give me a call.”

  Karen melted into my arms when he left. We kissed deeply, lingering as we pressed against each other.

  “I’ve missed you,” I said.

  “Me, too. But we have each other for the next couple of days.”

  “Having each other sounds good. Shall we go check out the bedroom?”

  She laughed. “Not yet—I’m hungry. Let’s have a drink and something to eat first.”

  “All right, I’ve heard that good things come to those who wait. Did you bring Rosie’s food? We can feed her and then go to Hobbs.”

  “I remember Hobbs from last summer,” she said. “Good lobster and right nearby in Wells Harbor. But let’s save it for another time. This is our first night in our new house on the beach. Let’s make dinner here.”

  “Sounds fine, but I didn’t get anything to eat. I guess we can make a quick grocery store run.”

  She gave me a big grin. “I stopped and picked up a few things in Ogunquit. Come help me bring stuff in from the car.”

  A trip to the car produced everything we needed. Lobsters, French bread, and salad fixings—not to mention brie for an appetizer, a bottle of wine for Karen, and scotch for me. My favorite Oban, no less.

  We fed Rosie and then took bread, cheese, and drinks out to the deck. I sipped scotch and enjoyed the ocean view while Karen spread brie generously on a chunk of bread and dug in. When she finished, she said, “I’ve got some news about your video recording. My guys couldn’t see the face, of course, but they did come up with an estimate of the intruder’s build.”

  “How’d they manage that?”

  “Not so hard. There was a table in the background, so they used that to get the scale. They figure the perp is around five foot six, average build, maybe a hundred and forty pounds.”

  “Nice; that could help. I’ve only seen Mark Heller sitting down. I don’t know if that fits him or not.”

  “It doesn’t,” she said. “I checked his driver’s license. He’s a big guy. Six foot one, weighs over two hundred.”

  “I guess there’s another possibility, isn’t there? Could it be a tall woman?”

  “Sure. Do you have somebody in mind?”

  “Carolyn Gelman. At least some of the faculty seem to think that she sabotaged her own freezer, with the intent of blaming Heller for it.”

  “You really think she’d try to destroy her own research?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had the chance to meet her yet. But I did see her giving a seminar. She’s tall.”

  “Hang on a minute, let me check her license.” Karen went into the house and returned with her laptop. She fiddled with it briefly. “You’re right. Gelman’s five foot five, a hundred thirty-five pounds.”

  I took a pull of scotch. “So, she’s a possible. Kind of hard to swallow, but I can’t ignore it. I suppose she could have planned a late-night trip to the lab and rescued the samples before they were ruined.”

  Karen spread cheese on another piece of bread. “The tape does raise another question, though. Whoever it was took pains to keep their face covered, suggesting they knew the security camera was there. If it was Gelman, would she have tried to blame Heller, when he’s such an obvious mismatch to her build?”

  “Interesting point. But she may not have realized it would be possible to estimate the intruder’s height and weight from the video. I’m meeting with her Monday afternoon, maybe I can get a better feel for her then.”

  Karen nodded. “Sounds good. In the meantime, hunger’s getting to me.”

  I stood up and turned to go in. “I saw a lobster pot in the kitchen. I’ll get some water boiling.”

  She came up behind me and put her arms around me, pressing her body tight against mine. “No, I meant a different kind of hunger. Let’s go check out the bed.”

  She took my hand and I happily followed her upstairs.

  9

  He wasn’t surprised by the ringtone of the burner phone. He’d been expecting a call from the boss for weeks, ever since the freezer sabotage had been aborted by some random student who came in at the wrong time. At first, the boss told him to lie low, explaining that Gelman’s efforts to put the blame on Heller were so self-destructive that it looked like she would do herself in without any further action being necessary.

  He hadn’t believed it. Direct action was always better, always what it came down to in the end. So he’d waited for new instructions. He smiled as he answered the phone, feeling the first rush of adrenaline at what he imagined would be a call to action.

  As usual, the boss spoke through a voice changer. It gave his voice a robotic sound. Or her voice. He had no way of even knowing whether the boss was a man or a woman. Just someone on the phone who gave orders and paid well when they were carried out.

  “We need you to get back in the game,” the boss said. “Things were going well, but the institute has a new director who seems to give some credence to Gelman. He’s even postpon
ed the faculty vote that would have sealed her fate until he studies the case further.”

  “I understand. Whatever you need.”

  “It’s time for something more definitive. You have the white powder?”

  “Of course. Do you want me to use it on Gelman?”

  “No, that would be too obvious. I want you to administer it to one of the patients in her clinical trial. Having an unexplained toxic death on her hands should do the trick. Think you can handle that?”

  “No problem. Can you get me the patients’ names and addresses?” He paused for a moment. “Also the names and addresses of their employers and emergency contacts.”

  “I’ll email it to you shortly. But why the job and emergency contact information?”

  “I’m going to have to visit the home to dispense the powder, so I want to pick someone who’s employed and lives alone. They’ll have emergency contacts living somewhere else and most likely be away at work during the day.”

  ***

  The email came less than fifteen minutes later. He studied the list, first looking for addresses that appeared to be single-family homes in relatively sparsely populated areas. Then he noted employment, and finally scanned the emergency contacts to narrow the list to patients who probably lived alone. It didn’t take long to get it down to a short list of half a dozen. He amused himself by closing his eyes and blindly choosing his victim.

  It was six thirty on a Friday evening. The patient he’d chosen was a waitress, so she’d probably be at work serving dinner. May as well get it done.

  He put on the brown UPS uniform he’d purchased on eBay for occasions when a disguise might be useful. Then he put on metal-framed glasses and a blond wig. Satisfied that the change in his appearance was adequate, he went over to his dresser and opened the top drawer to retrieve a small vial of white powder that was tucked in the back corner. Thallium sulfate. A deadly poison that had been used in pesticides until the early seventies. As well as in a number of murders.