“Your information is flawed. Abuse was never substantiated. The project produced important results and simply ran its course.”
“Apparently someone’s still experimenting. Two women are dead, another’s in critical condition. They were given fatal doses of the substances commonly known as Whore and Wild Rabbit, in combination. Someone has a substantial supply of both, or the means to create them.”
“Drugs used to benefit mankind can and will be abused in the wrong hands. It’s not my job to police the masses. It’s yours.”
“Who on your former research team might have those wrong hands?”
“All doctors and technicians who were involved were thoroughly screened and hand selected.”
“And still, there was recreational and criminal use. This isn’t gossip or blathering,” she said before he could interrupt. “This is a murder investigation. Sex and power, that’s a heady temptation.”
“We were scientists, not sex mongers.”
“Why are all the records sealed? Why are there seals on all the civil cases brought against the project?”
“No civil cases were ever brought to trial. No charges of misconduct were ever pressed. Therefore, it’s a matter of privacy to seal records of frivolous suits that impinged upon the names and reputations of those associated with the project. Of maintaining dignity.”
Eve pushed the photographs closer. “Someone invaded their privacy, Doctor. Big-time. And didn’t leave them with their dignity.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“The project made a lot of money for its top people and its initial investors. It takes a lot of money to play with these particular illegals. I’m looking for two men, men with the means to buy or create substantial quantities of those illegals. Men with expert knowledge of chemistry and electronics. Men who consider women not only fair game, but disposable entertainment. Sexual predators, Dr. McNamara. Who worked with you, who fits that bill?”
“I can’t help you. Your problem has nothing to do with the project, nothing to do with me. The project created medication that changed lives. I won’t have you besmirch my work or my reputation because you’re unable to do your job.”
He shoved the stills back toward Eve. “It’s more likely these women invited, even encouraged the use of the drugs. Any woman who agrees to meet a man she knows only through mail is soliciting a sexual advance.”
“I guess she solicits them just because she was born with tits.” Eve scooped up the stills. “It sounds like you caught some blathering after all. I never mentioned how these women met their attackers.”
“Your time’s up.” He pressed a button under the desk and the doors opened. “If you wish to speak with me again, you’ll have to contact my attorneys. If I hear any public mention of my name, this facility, or the project in connection with your investigation, they will be contacting you.”
She debated hauling him in then and there, then punching her way through the legal uproar. The media would go wild, and the case could potentially be damaged by the exposure. “I always wonder how it is some doctors have such little respect for human life.” She stepped off the platform, handed the stills to Peabody. “We’ll talk again,” she told him and strode out just before the doors clicked shut at her back.
“He’s a creep,” Peabody said. “A misogynist and a demigod.”
“And he knows something. I want a low profile on this, so we play it by the book with him. Contact his reps and arrange a formal interview at Central. We’re going to put some pressure on breaking those sealed records. Get yourself back to Central and start the paperwork.”
“He’ll fight it.”
“Yeah, but he’ll lose. Eventually. I’m working from home. I’ll pass on data as I get it.”
Roarke was already there when she arrived, but she left the door between their offices closed. She sat at her desk and began generating a series of reports. She knew enough about politics and demigods to be certain she’d have to cover her ass as far as McNamara was concerned. Men like him didn’t just call lawyers. She had no doubt her commander’s, the chief’s, the mayor’s, even the governor’s ears would be ringing with her name in very short order.
She could handle the heat, but she didn’t want the fire taken off the case while it was scorching her ass.
When she was satisfied she transmitted copies to all appropriate parties. Next came the pitch to break sealed files for investigatory use in multiple homicides. It was a tricky business, and even if the request went through, it would take precious days.
There was a quicker way. She glanced up at the door that joined her workspace with Roarke’s. Quicker, slicker, and virtually undetectable if she gave him the job.
She’d crossed that line before and would again if she had to. But for now, she’d try the system.
“Computer.” Absently she rubbed at the back of her neck. “All available data on McNamara, Dr. Theodore, display on wall screen.”
WORKING . . . DATA DISPLAYED.
She rose, working the tension out of her shoulders as she read the information. The man was eighty-six, and obviously made good use of his face and body sculptors. His education and work records were impressive. He’d had one marriage, and one child from it—a daughter.
Eve pursed her lips and speculated.