Murder at Naughton Pharms

CHAPTER 9 – TUESDAY MORNING

  Kelly's ringing phone brought him half awake. He managed to retrieve it without opening his eyes.

  "What the fuck, Kelly? I just heard from Dr. Thomas Whitcomb. You'd already sent that damn e-mail, hadn't you? And you just couldn't admit it." It was Bryce Dilman, the CFO.

  "What time is it?" said Kelly, his head still nestled in his pillow.

  "Nine fucking twenty."

  "Mind if I sleep a little longer before I come clean in and out my desk?"

  "I damn well should fire your ass. That stunt could have sunk everything, cost over a hundred people their jobs. "

  "Could have?"

  "Yes. Could have." Dilman paused. "You're just lucky Whitcomb okayed a change in the protocol."

  Kelly abruptly sat up. "He did?"

  "That doesn't mean I'm not pissed. You had no business contacting him on your own authority."

  "Right."

  "Here's what I want you to do. I want you to come back to work, but not in research, at least not yet. The board is bringing in a top-notch interim COO, a pro in crisis management. He's requested that someone be assigned to him who knows how this place works – someone from the rank and file. That's the deal. If you want to come back to work, you're this guy's assistant, and you stay out of the clinical study wing, except as needed in your new role."

  "I can do that. But won't this guy be reluctant to work with a murder suspect?"

  "I know you're no murderer. And that cop, Hoagan ..."

  "Haugen"

  "Haugen. He doesn't think it's you, either. I'm not worried about it, and the new COO won't know."

  "When do you want me?"

  "He's flying in from Chicago. We have a plane there waiting to pick him up at noon. He's going to meet with the board and the rest of the management team. You can go with me to meet him at the airport. After that, it's up to him. Maybe he'll need you more today, maybe not."

  "Okay."

  "And wear something decent, shave."

  After hanging up, Kelly considered texting Jessica, but decided to surprise her.

  Kelly met Dilman at the office at 1:15. The flight was expected at 1:40. Dilman's anger seemed to have subsided – he was all smiles as they left the building.

  "So, are we taking your Mercedes, or my Delta 88?" Kelly pointed out his paint-deprived not-so-classic junker.

  Dilman laughed. "Better take mine."

  "Probably best," said Kelly. "I imagine your air conditioning works."

  It was Kelly's first ride in Dilman's Mercedes-Benz GL450 SUV. "I could get used to this," he said, as they left the Naughton parking lot.

  "Maybe someday we can make that possible for you."

  Taking the freeways, the drive across town took 20 minutes. The airport sat at the edge of the prairie, out past North Dakota State University and the Fargodome. The main terminal was to the west of the runways, but they drove to the east side, where the smaller planes were tended. They didn't have to wait long for the Gulf Stream jet to arrive.

  The interim COO, Philip Petrowski, squeezed through the door of the corporate jet. Pushing seventy, Petrowski was a florid-faced bear of a man. Kelly figured the odds were good that Petrowski had been a football lineman in college.

  Petrowski greeted them warmly, but at the same time had a no-nonsense air and a commanding voice. The pilot brought out Petrowski's bag. Kelly took charge of it.

  "Goodness," said Petrowski. "I thought it would be cool this far north."

  "Not in summer," said Dilman. "Fargo can do hot almost as well as it does cold."

  Petrowski shed his suit coat and rode in front with Dilman. They drove through town, giving Petrowski a more intimate look at the city.

  "Fargo," said Petrowski, as they passed NDSU on tree-lined University Drive. "I saw the movie and a number of the TV episodes. Nice to finally see the place for real, though I wish I was visiting under happier circumstances."

  "It's nothing like the shows," said Dilman.

  Except for all the murders, thought Kelly.

  Back at Naughton Pharmaceuticals, Dilman and Petrowski joined a meeting of the high brass in the conference room. Having some time to kill, Kelly took the opportunity to look in on Jessica, finding her at her cubicle.

  "Surprise!"

  "Oh, hello." She looked him over, noting the slacks, shirt and tie. "You're back. I heard something about you saving the big study."

  "Yes, I guess I did. I struck a deal with Dilman. You're looking at the assistant to the new COO." Kelly struck a smug pose.

  "Oh, really? I suppose congratulations are in order?"

  "Thank you," said Kelly, bowing, but also sensing a tepid vibe from Jessica. "Everything okay?

  "Yes. I'm fine."

  Kelly plopped into the chair beside her desk. "No you're not. What gives?"

  "Not here. We can talk later."

  "Tonight?"

  "I've got yoga class."

  "Alright." He paused, giving her a chance to say something, but she only gave a slight nod. "I'll let you get back to work." He left without attempting a stolen kiss or even a touch, sensing that wasn't happening. He had no idea what the cold shoulder was about. Everything last night had been great.

  His mood plummeted as he walked slowly, absentmindedly to the administration break room. What the heck had happened?

  He poured a cup of coffee and sat down to wait for the meeting with Petrowski to break up, after which he was expected to join a building tour for the new COO. The break room TV was on, but Kelly was unaware of it, thinking instead of Jessica.

  "Kelly!" Lenny from Scientific Affairs breezed into the room. "Welcome back." Lenny poured himself some coffee.

  "Thanks. Gone a whole day."

  Lenny pulled up a chair and leaned in close. "Thanks for bailing me out."

  "Bailing you out?"

  "Yes. I don't know how you worked it, but it meant I didn't have to." Lenny's arched left eyebrow augmented his conspiratorial tone. "And here you are, back at work. Assistant to the new COO, no less."

  "Temporarily, while he's getting oriented."

  "It's still a well-deserved reward. Thanks again." Lenny popped up and headed for the door.

  "It's no reward. It's just ..." Kelly gave up as Lenny disappeared into the hallway. He shook his head, wondering what plan Dilman and Lenny had hatched for fudging the results on 146.

  Kelly got more coffee, his thoughts returning to Jessica, but a commotion in the hallway alerted him to the meeting breaking up. He went out to make himself available and stood beside Potts as the various board members and senior staff departed, some sharing a final word of welcome with the new COO. Finally it was just Dilman, Potts and Petrowski. Kelly joined them for the tour.

  Dilman did most of the talking, introducing various members of the staff as he showed off the legal department, sales office, Scientific Affairs, and marketing. Potts took the lead when it came to the labs.

  "We don't manufacture here," said Potts as they arrived at shipping and receiving, "which is why the labs and shipping are modest in size."

  "That's done in Houston?" asked Petrowski.

  "Yes. That's where the domestic manufacturing and distribution occurs."

  "I'll have to visit."

  "Some of the production is done in India," added Dilman. "But we don't own facilities there, we contract."

  Even in the clinical study wing, Kelly didn't contribute much, since Potts had most of the answers for Petrowski's many questions. In the waiting area, Petrowski got to visiting with a prospective test subject who happened to be from Petrowski's home state of Illinois, so Kelly took the opportunity to acknowledge Barb at the reception desk.

  "I'm back already."

  "I see that."

  "How's it been going? You getting by without me?"

  Barb sidestepped the question. "You're moving to administration now?"

  "No way," said Kelly, sensing disapproval. "I'm just stuck there until our new COO gets oriented."


  "I see."

  Kelly stared at Barb questioningly. "What's the deal? Tough day or something? Where'd my friend Barb go?"

  "I'm just disappointed you came back."

  "What?"

  "I didn't think you'd cave."

  "Cave? What the heck are you talking about? I didn't do any caving."

  Barb all but ignored him, clearly unimpressed by his protest.

  "Barb, tell me. What is it?"

  She looked up, her demeanor softening a bit. "It's pretty clear Dilman didn't save 146 by himself. Everybody knows you had something to do with it." She gestured to his shirt and tie. "And it seems Dilman has shown his appreciation."

  A wave of realization swept over him. That's what Lenny meant in the break room – that Kelly helped Dilman cheat on the study, an opinion that must have spread through the building.

  "Barb, no. I didn't cave. I didn't fudge things for Dilman. Hell, this morning he had half a mind to fire me." Kelly looked off toward the administration wing, thinking of Jessica. "Gotta run. I'll explain later. Make an excuse for me." He glanced to where Dilman was still huddled with Petrowski and Potts then he gave Barb a big smile. "Urgent 5-X matter to attend to." Barb's expression brightened.

  Kelly ran to the security doors, banging into them as his first hasty swipe with his card didn't take. He dashed down the administration wing hallway, dodging other employees as he made his way to the administrative support area and Jessica's cubicle. She was still there, looking forlorn, her eyes reddened.

  Kelly landed in the spare chair beside her desk, smiling broadly.

  She dried her eyes with an already damp tissue. "What are you so happy about?"

  "I found out why you're upset with me. It's because I saved that study. Because I struck a deal with Dilman."

  "That makes you happy?"

  "Exactly. Because you've got it all wrong. I didn't rig anything for Dilman. I sent a request to the author of the study, seeking a variance for the protocol even though Dilman told me not to. He found out this morning and wanted to string me up – swore a blue streak like I've never heard from him before, I'm sure he'd have fired me, but the variance was granted! And at the same time, he needed somebody who knows the ropes to shepherd the new COO ... temporarily. I'll be back at my old job once he gets oriented."

  Jessica's anguish faded, replaced by a sob of relief. She fell into his arms clutching him tightly, her face buried against his shoulder. They held each other as her composure slowly returned.

  She finally leaned back, still sniffling. "I am so sorry."

  "That's okay. You're not alone. Barb thought I'd sold out, too. And Lenny in Scientific Affairs – hell, he probably started the story."

  Jessica blew her nose and wiped her eyes, then took a deep, shuddering breath. Kelly gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Look, I gotta get back. I abandoned the tour with the new COO. I'll call you later." He raced back to the clinical study wing, feeling almost giddy, relieved that it was all a misunderstanding.

  The tour had moved on to Unit 1. Potts gave him a questioning look, but his absence had otherwise gone unnoticed.

  Tactfully, the two murder scenes were not included on the tour, which wound up back at the COO's office. Dilman and Potts were excused, but Petrowski kept Kelly and Mary Dunham around. Mary was the veteran executive secretary in the COO's office. He asked Mary to arrange individual meetings with all the department heads as soon as possible. "Later, we'll get them all together," said Petrowski. "When you talk to them, make it clear that the purpose of these meetings is for them to tell me how I can help them get their job done."

  Petrowski sent her on her way and turned his attention to Kelly, directing him to sit across from him at the massive desk, which seemed almost too small for Petrowski. It was devoid of any personal items, Kupmeier's effects having been removed. A computer screen and phone sat on a wing of the desk to the right.

  "I'm not sure Mr. Dilman really understood what I was looking for in an assistant. How old are you?"

  "Twenty-four."

  "And you've worked here four years?"

  "Part-time at first. Full-time the last couple years."

  "Bryce assures me you know how things work around here." Petrowski stared at Kelly, as if deciding if Dilman's assessment was possibly true. "What I need is someone who can tell me like it is – not the BS that gets printed in the annual report or the same stuff I'll be hearing from the department heads with all their agendas. You think you can really do that?"

  "Parts of it, I suppose. I've only worked on the clinical study side, but I kind of understand how it all goes together."

  "Alright. Let's start with this -- what's your take on what this company does and how it does it."

  Kelly was a bit taken aback, and unsure how to start. "Well, it sells a modest line of patented pharmaceuticals ..."

  Petrowski stopped him with a shake of the head. "I can get that from Wikipedia. I want the un-sugarcoated truth, the way you'd tell your buddy over beers in the bar. You can talk to me candidly; I'm interim. Everything you say will leave with me. How do you see it from the trenches? That's what I need. It will help me do the job."

  Kelly slowly nodded. "Okay." He straightened up, gathering his thoughts. "I'd say we play pretty much the same game as other pharmaceutical companies. And that means most of the effort goes into finding ways to get more customers. The research almost always involves our existing product line, sometimes after some changes are made, but not always. We look for some edge versus a competitor, or we're trying to identify another condition to use a drug for – that's way cheaper than actually bringing a new drug to market. Last year, they even re-branded one of our drugs with a new name, gave it new color, because a drug associated with menopause won't be accepted by people for something else."

  "How often does the company bring a new product to market?"

  "A genuinely new product? Maybe once in my four years. I think we bought that patent from somebody. We bought some other patents, too, but nothing's come of them that I'm aware of. There's some talk that at least one of the products would have competed with one of ours and that buying it kept it on the sidelines. I don't really know."

  "Maybe it wasn't as good, and they dropped it."

  "Maybe. They might have run trials on it – we don't always know what's being tested. And if the drug still needed first-in-man trials, that would have been outsourced, probably overseas."

  Mary knocked at the door connecting her office to the COO's. She poked her head in. "Connie Deacon on line one."

  "Hang on a bit," said Petrowski to Kelly. He reached for the phone and punched up the call. "Connie, nice to be working with you again."

  Petrowski nodded and smiled as he listened to the reply.

  "Yes. I met a bit earlier with Mr. Lorch and some of the board members, and they have concerns about this Plan of Action meeting that's coming up on Thursday – sales staff coming in from all over creation. There's talk of postponing it, maybe even moving it to Houston. Some of the board members think it's a little cold to be holding a sales event after these murders, and there's also some worry that the meetings won't be all that productive."

  After that intro, Petrowski did a lot of listening, Kelly catching only one side of the conversation. "Yes, it would be expensive ... Really? ... Okay ... Okay ... I can see that ... We can probably hold off on the decision for a bit, but they'll start flying in tomorrow, so we need to decide quickly ... I do like the idea. Never would have thought of that."

  Petrowski finally hung up. "That's why I like Connie. Have you met her? Connie Deacon with George March?"

  Kelly shook his head.

  "I've worked with her before. A real public relations pro."

  "Are we moving the POA to Houston?"

  "I don't think so. Connie thinks we can spin the meeting to present it as a heartwarming show of support for the Fargo Naughton family. She says it's actually a great opportunity. The theater they're using for the memorial servi
ce should be big enough to absorb the addition of our visiting employees, and Connie thinks that having our people participate will help them get past the murders so they can focus on the rest of the agenda."

  "Also saves us from moving the meeting, rebooking all the flights, the rooms," said Kelly.

  "Well, yes, but I think it's the right thing to do anyway – a show of respect. Unless Mr. Lorch vetoes the idea, I think that's the plan. So," Petrowski continued. "I know a little about this P-O-A meeting, but what's your take?"

  Kelly paused. "No BS, right?"

  "Exactly. Give it to me straight."

  "It's where the sales guys learn to blow smoke up a doctor's ass."

  Petrowski's eyebrows rose. "Colorful. How so?"

  "Well, for example, Scientific Affairs can design a study intended to generate some nice number, which might or might not really be meaningful. They pass it along to the sales people – and to them it sounds great – and the sales people are more than happy to wow the doctors with it, and the doctors, who ought to know better, often don't."

  "On my way up here, I talked on the phone with some of the directors and VPs, and to hear them tell it, the meeting is all about educating the sales force on the latest cutting-edge science."

  "Sometimes that's maybe true. I'm being cynical; I admit that, but we do a lot of studies to find, in my opinion, some phantom marketing edge."

  "That doesn't really diminish the importance of the meeting, does it?"

  "No, not at all. I'm sure it's huge. It gets the troops motivated."

  Petrowski smiled. "Okay, thanks. That's helpful. Take the rest of the day off if you like. I'll be busy with these one-on-ones with the department heads. After that, I'll likely have more questions, maybe late morning or early afternoon. I'll have Mary let you know."

  Kelly left, and with nothing else pressing, poked his nose into Mary's office to see if the COO's administrative secretary could use any help.

  "If you see Dr. Westby, you could have him get in touch." said Mary. "He's not at his desk, and he hasn't responded to e-mail. He's the only one I still need to schedule for a meeting with Mr. Petrowski."

  Westby was the pharmacy director. "Will do." Kelly began to leave, but stopped, pivoting around. "Mary, is there be any chance I could score a desk up here somewhere? It would be nice for getting on e-mail and stuff."

  "Sure. I'll see what I can do."

  Kelly hadn't had a lot of contact with Mary, but knew her to be pleasant, with a quick smile and a good sense of humor. In the wake of the murders, however, she seemed weary, a bit forlorn.

  Kelly swung by to see Jessica. She wasn't at her desk, so he wandered toward the pharmacy to see if he could find Westby. After that, he figured he'd just head for home and enjoy some time off, but before he reached the pharmacy, his phone rang. Paula Keen, the TV reporter.

  "Hey, Paula."

  "Am I catching you at a good time?"

  "Sure." Kelly stepped into a side hallway that led to an emergency exit where he'd have a measure of privacy. "What's up?"

  "Nothing much on my end. The police held a routine media briefing this morning. They tried to sound optimistic, saying they have a lot of information to evaluate, but they really didn't have much to add."

  "By information, I'm guessing they mean phone records and all the records of employees and test subjects. Anything from your inside source?"

  "Just that same raw optimism. There seems to be an attitude that it's just a matter of time until something breaks."

  "Anything about me?"

  "There's apparently one detective that hasn't given up on the idea that you could be the perp, but nobody else is taking the idea very seriously. You're probably lucky he's not in charge of the investigation."

  "That would be detective Amundson," said Kelly.

  "Are you hearing anything from inside the company, or are you completely out of touch now?"

  "Actually, I'm inside again. They called this morning, asked me to work with the new interim COO – he's a crisis specialist."

  "Really? What can you tell me about him?"

  "You better get the specifics from our PR folks. They'll probably tell you; it's not like it's a big secret, but it shouldn't come from me."

  "Fair enough, but if they stonewall me, I'll twist your arm."

  "Here's something I haven't told you. There's probably not a news story in it, but it's interesting. Doc Naughton has a place out in the country – southwest of town."

  "And that's interesting why?"

  "I guess I didn't tell you about this. One theory of the case, and it's just wild speculation, is that Naughton could have a motive for the murders – a grudge for getting kicked out of the company, or maybe the victims knew something that he wanted to keep secret."

  "Whose theory is that?"

  "A janitor at work."

  "A janitor."

  "Uh, yeah."

  "Call out the SWAT team."

  "Okay, it's a stretch, but Naughton does have a guy working for him that looks fully capable of murder."

  "Naughton might be eccentric, maybe even completely off his nut, but murder? He's one of the most renowned people in Fargo."

  "Yeah, I know. The cops feel the same way, but they still visited his place in town on Sunday. Nothing came of it. I'm hoping they'll check out the country place, too."

  "Check it for what?"

  "Well, just anything that he'd have motive to hide, I guess. Something Kupmeier and the others might have found out about."

  "There's a rumor of that?"

  "Not really. I'm grasping at straws, though I did see him with a live animal crate."

  "You think that might be significant." Her tone remained that of unimpressed reporter, the comment more statement than question.

  "I have no idea. I'm not even sure what kind of animals it held, or it could have been empty."

  "Sounds pretty thin. I'll check, though, to see if I can get any idea what the cops think about it."

  "Let me know."

  "I will."

  After hanging up, Kelly knocked at the window of the pharmacy door, waving to one of the techs, who had to let him in since his ID wasn't coded for pharmacy access.

  "Looking for Dr. Westby."

  "Storage room," said the tech, hooking a thumb toward the back of the pharmacy.

  Kelly had never gone to the pharmacy storage room before. The door had a keypad lock, but it stood ajar. Kelly had a brief flash of anxiety as he imagined finding another dead manager – Westby bound in duct tape amid a maze of storage room shelves. As it turned out, the storage room had locked cabinets, not shelves.

  Westby looked up from the three-ring binder he was consulting. A look of horror came upon his face. "SECURITY!" He flung the binder to the floor and leaped to his feet, pushing the desk chair into the aisle to block Kelly's approach. He ran, disappearing behind one of the many rows of high cabinets. "SECURITY!" He shouted again.

  Kelly called out. "Dr. Westby ... Earl ... it's okay."

  "SECURITY!" came another shout from somewhere back among the cabinets.

  Two pharmacy techs came rushing in, and Kelly shrugged helplessly in response to their questioning looks. A security guard was right on their heels, pepper spray at the ready. "He kind of freaked out," explained Kelly. "I just wanted to tell him ..."

  Westby peeked around the corner of the cabinets at the back of the room. Kelly called out to him. "I came to tell you that Mary Dunham is looking for you." Kelly backed away innocently, and offered a conciliatory wave. "That's all. Call her." The guard and the techs didn't seem to know what to make of the situation. Kelly looked at them sheepishly. "Sorry." He gingerly made his exit, passing a number of pharmacy employees who had wandered over to see what all the fuss was about. Kelly half expected more fireworks, but to his relief, none came. Once in the hallway, he wasted no time getting back to the administration wing.

  His phone rang. Paula Keen again.

  "The cops are going to che
ck out Naughton's country place."

  "Cool." Kelly ducked into a small meeting room where he could hear better.

  "They have an appointment to meet him tonight at eight. Voluntary thing; not a warranted search."

  "I know how that goes."

  "Naughton's not happy about it. He's complained loudly, and he has the ear of people in high places. Haugen's taking some heat over the whole thing."

  "That will probably cement my spot on his shit list."

  "Your tip also dragged the Richland County Sheriff's Department into it. The farm's in their jurisdiction."

  "Are you going out there?"

  "No, that could blow my source in the department. Besides, he didn't know where the farm is and probably wouldn't tell me if he did. And I rather doubt there'd be a story in it. He called the search a big waste of time. Still, I don't think the police have much choice; they're needing to chase down just about any lead."

  "They're stumped, aren't they?"

  "I get that feeling, but I suspect they're right about eventually getting a break. Something's bound to happen. There's got to be a connection or a witness – something."

  "I hope so. And maybe it'll involved old man Naughton."

  "I'd be surprised."

  "Oh! You wouldn't believe what just happened. I went to deliver a message to Earl Westby, one of our department heads, and he crapped his pants when he saw me, thought he was about to get murdered."

  "Really?" Keen was clearly amused.

  "I was mortified. He started yelling for security. It was bad."

  "So what happened?"

  "Nothing, really. A security guard showed up, but he could see nothing was happening. I apologized and left, and so far, that seems to be the end of it."

  "The guy thought you were the murderer."

  "I'm afraid so. He probably heard about my suspension, but didn't know I'd been called back in. Then I show up in a back room I've never been to before. In his mind it's like Hannibal Lecter just walked in."

  Keen laughed. "Now that's a great story."

  "Shit. You can't write that. Please."

  "No, I'm not going to write it. But it is a great story. Maybe someday, when this all blows over, it might be doable. Right now, a humor story would be the height of poor taste."

  After ending the call, Kelly sat in one of the conference room's faux leather chairs, leaning back, a foot on a neighboring chair, wondering if others in the building shared Westby's apprehension about him. He hadn't sensed it from anyone else, but he hadn't surprised any other department heads in storage rooms, either. Crazy.

  Kelly called Bennie's cell, told him about the police going to Naughton's country place.

  "I wish I could go in with them," said Bennie.

  "Yes. I'm curious, too, but I don't think Naughton has anything to hide – otherwise he'd have refused to let the police in, and I'd be very surprised if they had grounds for a search warrant."

  "Do you think the police will tell you what they find out?"

  "I don't know. I think there's some animosity toward me for suggesting Naughton as a suspect. We might have a better chance learning something from Paula Keen. She's a reporter with Channel five. She's got a source in the department who might tell her about it."

  "Hey, maybe we should go out there tonight. Watch from that grove on the hill."

  Kelly thought about it for a second. He felt a little cautious after getting warned by Haugen to keep his nose out of it, but he figured he didn't have much to lose. "Sure. Might be interesting. I've got nothing else going on."

  He agreed to pick Bennie up at seven outside his apartment. Bennie gave him the address, which was walking distance from Naughton Pharmaceuticals.

  Kelly abandoned the meeting room and checked again at Jessica's cubicle. Her welcoming and somewhat apologetic smile was heartwarming, a nice change from the cold shoulder that morning. He told her the Westby story, which had her laughing.

  "Don't look so forlorn," she told him. "Dr. Westby's no worse for it."

  "I'm not worried about Westby."

  "Don't worry for yourself, either. It will all get straightened out. I bet the police break the case soon."

  "I hope so. Tonight they're searching Naughton's country place. Bennie and I are going out to watch. Care to come with us?"

  "You sure me going along is a good idea?" She lowered her voice. "I'm not supposed to know about Bennie being interested in Naughton, right?"

  "Good point."

  "Besides, I really do have yoga class tonight. Call me later, though. Tell me what happens."

  As Kelly left the administrative commons, Petrowski emerged from his office with the vice president for marketing, their meeting apparently just concluded. The hulking Petrowski towered over the smaller man, who headed off down the hall.

  Petrowski corralled Kelly, steering him into the office. "I hear you had an interesting meeting with Dr. Westby, the pharmacy director."

  "Word travels fast. Yes, I did. Sorry about that. Mary asked me to ..."

  "Yes, I know. How is it that nobody told me you were a suspect in the case? Nice of them to pick you as my special assistant." Petrowski's demeanor made it clear he took the news in good humor.

  "I'm not a suspect; not really." Kelly took a deep breath, bracing himself before telling the story yet again. "They checked me out because I was here when two of the victims were found. The media ran with that. Consequently, Mr. Dilman, or maybe Mr. Potts ... they wanted me out of the clinical study wing in case I made any test subjects nervous. I guess they didn't expect my presence elsewhere in the building to be a problem, but apparently that it was for Dr. Westby."

  "I like interim assignments. Always something different. But this one ..." Petrowski shook his head.