“I bet. You liked Jen.”
“Everybody liked Jen.”
“But you really liked her. You got her a job.”
“It was no big deal.”
“Come on, take some credit. An addict with barely a month’s recovery under her belt before you asked your uncle to give her a break. Then you do her another solid and help her addict friend get a job. She owed you.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“Did she pay you back?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I don’t think she did, not when she had her eye on Pachai—and he had his on her. That must’ve stung.”
He scratched at his arms as if something crawled along his skin. “She was just a friend.”
“Because that’s the way she wanted it. And Pachai, what did he do for her? He didn’t get her and her addict friend jobs. His uncle didn’t give her food to take home. He comes from money, though. Isn’t that always the way? Gets to be Rosenthall’s head guy—over you. You worked harder, I bet. Put in more hours. You’re smarter—I can tell. You’ve got ideas, don’t you, Ken? Ideas about the serum.”
She leaned forward. No visible scratches, she thought. But he’d left his hair down, over the back of his neck.
“I bet you put in lots of your own time on that project. Off the books, so to speak. Busting your ass. Rosenthall’s so conservative, such a stickler for protocol, procedure. But you’ve got balls. You’re willing to take some risks. Did Jen find out you were taking one?”
He kept scratching, swallowing, looking anywhere but at Eve. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She came in the lab a lot, didn’t she? Making excuses to drop in so she could see Pachai. Flirted with him right in front of you. Did she come by when you were working alone one night? Off the books. Did you let her in?”
“We’re not allowed to work in the lab off hours unless Dr. Rosenthall’s there.”
“Rules.” Eve waved them away. “Real innovation says screw the rules. Real progress is risky, takes gambles. And Rosenthall’s poking along with his yes-man Gupta getting all the attention—and the girl. It’s not right. But you can show them you’re better, smarter. Did she catch you at it, or did you tell her? Had to brag about it. But she still didn’t want you. In fact, she threatened to tell on you if you didn’t stop. To tell Rosenthall you were experimenting with his work, testing it, and not on rats.”
He began to shiver now, as if cold even while the sweat dribbled down his temples. “You’re making all this up.”
“Am I? Scientists keep records. We’re going to get a search warrant for your apartment, and we’re going to find yours. We’re going to find the pipe you used to beat Coby Vix to death with. Then—”
“You can’t find the pipe at my place because . . .”
“Why is that, Ken?”
“I’m not talking anymore.”
“Suit yourself.” Eve sat back, watched him sweat a few moments until Peabody came in with a tube of ginger ale.
“Peabody, Detective Delia, entering Interview. He could use that. Have a drink, Ken, take a little time to think. The way I look at it, things just got out of hand, out of your control. You had a really bad reaction to the serum.”
“I’m not saying anything else.” But he took the tube, cracked it, guzzled.
And when she came back in, Eve thought, she’d take the tube—and have his DNA.
“Think about it,” Eve suggested. “Interview pause. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, exiting the room.”
“He looks sweaty, shaky,” Peabody began outside the door. “He looks like—”
“An addict jonesing for a fix. He’s scared, too. He’s either going to crack or lawyer up—that could go either way. Let’s get a search warrant for his apartment. We’ve got enough for that. He’s got logs and records. That stupid cape, the gloves, the shoes, maybe the knife and scalpel.”
“Maybe we should have Rosenthall observe the next round. Like you said, if he gets into the science, Rosenthall could tell us what it means.”