“And have you made any progress?” Dupree asked.
“I have. Thank God. In fact, I’ve all but decided to make a deal with Hyland Laboratories, the biggest pharmaceutical company in the world. They virtually have unlimited funds—I think they netted sixteen billion last year—and their flagship drug is Camadyacin, one of the most widely used chemotherapy drugs for treating cancer. They have years of research experience and employ a drug development division second to none.”
“We’re so glad to hear that,” Dupree said. “Isn’t Hyland the company that tried to partner with Horizon awhile back, but Dr. Crawford nixed the deal?”
“That is correct.”
“And didn’t they also try to hire Maggie Hansen?” Dupree said.
“They did. But that’s ancient history.
“When do you expect to firm up the deal?” Dupree asked.
“As a matter of fact, Michael Adelman, the CEO of Hyland, will be in my office tomorrow morning at ten a.m. to discuss the partnership. He’s flying into New York from his home office in Albany. Assuming that we can work out a few kinks, I’m hopeful we can come to terms.” Dr. Mason nervously tugged on his collar. “There is a legal issue, however, that I need to address. Striking a deal with Hyland isn’t as simple as signing an agreement. There is a grueling legal process we have to go through.
“Were you considering any other partners?” T.J. asked.
“Actually, three different pharmaceutical companies joined forces and wanted to form a partnership with Horizon as a team. Ritter-Stone, Global Pharmaceuticals, and Fowler-Paine made a generous offer, and I was really tempted to go with them. But they wanted controlling interest in the project and that was never going to happen.”
Mason blinked excessively. “There was another issue that convinced me to go with Hyland.” Mason, noticeably uncomfortable, adjusted himself in the chair and swallowed several times. “They tried to bribe me.”
“In what regard?” Dupree asked.
“They offered me personally a significant amount of money to sign an agreement with them. They claimed, of course, that it was an incentive and made it clear that I could keep the money even if I decided not to consummate the deal. But clearly, they were trying to bribe me.”
“Mind if I ask how much they offered?” T.J. asked.
“One-million dollars.”
“Wow,” T.J. said. “No offense, but that had to be a tempting offer. I mean a million dollars.”
“My integrity is worth a lot more, Detective Brown. I had a very successful practice and invested wisely, so money in itself is not much of a motivator for me. Granted, if and when the FDA approves our findings, I expect to earn a fair share of the profits. But make no mistake about it. This is not about money; it’s about finding better treatments, and possibly a cure for cancer.”
Dupree looked in Mason’s eyes the whole time he was talking, searching for any sign that he was nervous or uncomfortable. He passed the test.
“Dr. Mason,” Dupree said, “tell us about Horizon’s connection to Dominic Gallo?”
“He’s the Deputy Director of the Center for Drug Evaluation and Research, a wing of the FDA. In fact, I believe I told you when we last met that he had been working with Lauren for quite some time.”
“Excuse me for asking,” Dupree said, “but isn’t it a conflict of interest for a senior representative from the FDA to work directly with any organization researching and developing drugs?”
“You’re absolutely right, Detective. But not everything in the world is clearly black and white. Lauren had appealed personally to the FDA commissioner and asked permission to work directly with a high-level representative from the CDER. At first, the commissioner turned her down flat. But when he learned the significance of her research and the potential to cure cancer, how could he not support her efforts every way possible?”
“Did Dr. Crawford ask specifically to work with Dominic Gallo?” Dupree asked.
“If my memory serves me correctly, I think it was the other way around. Dominic was very passionate about Lauren’s theories and wanted to work with her throughout the entire developmental process.”
“He sounds like a very dedicated man,” T.J. said. “Did he actually come to Horizon or communicate with Dr. Crawford more by telephone, text, and e-mail?”
“He was a regular visitor. In fact, he’s flying in from Maryland tomorrow morning to meet with Michael Adelman and me. He wants to help us solidify the partnership agreement and help us cut through as much red tape as possible.”
Dupree glanced at her watch. “Well, Dr. Mason, we’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you so much for talking with us again. Good luck with your meeting tomorrow morning.”
“My pleasure, detectives. I hope you have a pleasant day.”
“Oh, one more thing,” Dupree said. “Are you acquainted with Jonathan Lentz?”
“I wouldn’t use the word, ‘acquainted’, but yes, I met him at my last holiday party.”
“Have you spoken to him recently?”
“As a matter of fact, he’s called a couple of times.”
Dupree could tell by the tone in Mason’s voice that Lentz’s calls were unwelcomed. “May I ask why he called?”
“He asked me to rehire Margaret Hansen.”
“And is that something you’re considering?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “At this particular time I’d say, no, but nothing is carved in stone.”
“Thanks again, Dr. Mason,” Dupree said.
Dupree and T.J. couldn’t get to the elevator fast enough.
“Talk about good timing,” T.J. said as the doors closed. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we’re coming back here tomorrow morning to bushwhack Mason, Adelman, and Gallo?”
“Exactly.”
“Now let’s get back to the precinct. It’s time to squeeze Cassano’s huevos,” Dupree said.
“I’m drooling just thinking about it,” T.J. said.
“You have no idea how many one-liners are popping into my head.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Just hanging down there with you, partner.”
When Dupree and T.J. dragged their weary bodies through the front door of the precinct, they spotted Captain Jensen having a conversation with Detectives Mark Wells and Craig Parisi.
“What’s the latest?” the captain asked Dupree. “Commissioner McVay is up my ass all-day-long.”
“Wow,” T.J. said, “I didn’t know the commissioner was a proctologist.”
Jensen glared at T.J. “Best button your lips, Detective.”
“Lots going on, Captain,” Dupree said. “I’ll have a full report by the end of the day.”
“Just give me the abridged version for now.”
Dupree told the captain everything T.J. and she had discovered over the last couple of days; Lentz’s connection to Gallo and Cassano; the unusual circumstances surrounding Tesler’s murder; Dr. Mason’s involvement with Hyland Laboratories and Gallo; the apparent romance between Lentz and Hansen. She gave him a recap of all the major facts, but decided to tell him privately about the suspicious letter she’d received.
Captain Jensen handed Dupree a plain white envelope. “This ought to make your day.”
At first, Dupree ignored Jensen’s outstretched hand, remembering the last letter she’d gotten. Feeling uneasy, she gingerly tore open the envelope and felt relieved to find Maggie Hansen’s bank statement and cell phone records. “You did make my day, Captain.”
“That’s just the beginning,” the captain said. “Parisi’s got an early Christmas gift for you.”
Parisi grinned from ear to ear. He stood and pushed his thinning hair out of his eyes. “Since Ivan Tesler’s murder, Wells and I, along with a few police officers, have been canvassing the neighborhood, hoping that someone saw or heard something. We thought that it was a bust, but then Tesler’s next door neighbor, a John Richardson called headquar
ters. He said that he saw a large man leaving Tesler’s home at nine p.m., the night Tesler was murdered, and that the guy looked like he was in a hurry. That’s about thirty minutes before Tesler called 911 for help.”
“How can the neighbor be sure of the time?” T.J. asked.
“Because he claims that he walks his dog every night at precisely nine-o-clock and that he’s been doing it for twelve years.”
“Did he see what kind of car the suspect was driving, or get a license plate number?” Dupree asked.
“Richardson said it was dark and he wasn’t sure what the guy was driving. But it looked like a full-size Chevy pickup truck. When the suspect started the truck and turned on the lights, Richardson memorized part of the plate number.”
“Hold on a minute,” Dupree said. “Why would he even think to do that? What led Richardson to believe the driver of the truck was up to no good?”
“I asked Richardson the same thing and he told me the guy just looked out of place.”
“Did you run the partial plate number?”
“I gave the info to Brenda—the Wizard of Oz—and she worked her mojo.” Parisi grinned again. “Guess what? The truck is registered to Oscar Cassano.”
Dupree felt her heart thumping in her ears. “Thanks, Craig.”
“My pleasure. I hope you nail this son-of-a-bitch.”
Parisi went about his business and T.J. was busy shuffling through a pile of papers.
“Hey, Dupree,” the captain yelled. “Got a few minutes for me?”
She looked at her watch. “I can do better than that. I’ll give you five.”
She asked T.J. to sit tight and said she’d be back soon. She turned to leave, but T.J. stopped her. “Are you going to tell him about the letter?”
“If I can get a word in edgewise.”
Dupree followed Jensen down the hallway to his office.
Once seated, Jensen picked up an envelope lying on top of his two-drawer file cabinet. “A FedEx driver delivered this about an hour ago. I was going to leave it on your desk until I noticed that the sender is Margaret Crawford. She’s Dr. Crawford’s mother, correct?”
Dupree nodded. Her hands began to tremble and she could barely swallow.
Jensen handed Dupree the envelope and her whole body recoiled as if he were handing her a rattlesnake.
“What’s the matter?” Jensen asked She told him about the letter she’d received from her “mother” and what the note inside said.
“There are a lot of sick fucks out there,” Jensen said. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
“I had every intention to, but T.J. and I have been running our asses off.”
“Where is the envelope now?”
“I put it in a plastic bag and gave it to the techs in the lab. When they checked it over, they found several different fingerprints, which I pretty much expected.”
“Anything worth pursuing?”
“Unfortunately, not.”
Jensen set down the envelope and scratched the back of his head. “Do you really think this is from Mrs. Crawford?”
“Highly unlikely,” Dupree said. “But I’ll give her a call just to be sure.”
Dupree pulled her cell out of her purse. She had programmed Mrs. Crawford’s phone number in her contact list. It was a brief conversation.
“The letter’s not from her,” Dupree said.
“Let’s have the techies check it out. Hopefully, they’ll pick up a print we can use. And by the way. I’m your fucking boss and I need to know everything. Got it?”
“Yes, Captain.” Dupree’s stomach twisted into a knot.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I told you this place would be quaint and charming,” Maggie Hansen said. She stood at the foot of the bed wearing only a lace bra and skimpy, pink panties.
Lentz couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. He let his eyes wander off her just long enough to look around. The cottage looked like a small log cabin, rustic and cozy. Everything from the cathedral ceilings to the walls to the floors was built with solid wood logs, planks, and beams. On the night stand next to the bed a bottle of Moët was chilling in a silver bucket of ice.
This is going to be a memorable day, Lentz thought.
He lay on the king-size bed stripped to his Jockey shorts. “How did you find a place like this—on Long Island no less?”
“I’m more resourceful than you give me credit for.”
“Well, all I can say is that you never cease to amaze me.”
“The party is just starting,” Maggie said. “Look what I brought.” She held up her hand and jingled a pair of handcuffs. “Maybe I can amaze you even more.”
“Are you feeling naughty?” Jonathan said. “Because I do know how to handle naughty little girls.”
“Is that right? I guess we’ll just have to find out.” Maggie reached around behind her, unsnapped her bra, and let it fall to the floor. Jonathan’s eyes opened wide. Her breasts were absolutely perfect. He had seen them many times, but for some reason, today they looked exquisite.
“Like what you see?” Maggie teased.
“I’d like it more if you took off your panties.”
“I’d love to, but I shaved this morning and don’t want to get a chill.”
He could feel himself getting aroused. “Oh, I think I can keep you warm.”
Maggie eased her way onto the bed and straddled Jonathan. “Is Duke ready to come out and play?”
If only she knew. She was obviously looking for trouble and he could surely deliver. “He’s more than ready.”
“Here’s a thought,” Maggie said. “Maybe, just for kicks, we should reverse roles.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I’m always the one getting punished for being naughty. Maybe it’s time I punish you.” She slipped her hand down his underwear.
After a few minutes of moaning, Jonathan said, “What do you want me to do?”
“I want to handcuff you to the bed and tease Duke until he begs for mercy. And when it’s time for the grand finale…let’s just say that I’ve got a special treat for him.” She licked her lips.
From his past experiences with her, she had been the perfect student. She did exactly what he wanted and learned quickly how he wanted it. Like an explorer, she could navigate his body with skill and surgical precision. She could take him to the edge and bring him back. Over and over. Until he begged for mercy; pleaded to be satisfied. He felt more excited than ever before. Lentz was ready. Oh, so ready.
Maggie, still straddling Jonathan, reached towards the nightstand, opened the drawer, pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and jingled them just above Jonathan’s face.
“Remember these?”
“How could I forget?”
She handcuffed Jonathan to the headboard so that both of his wrists were immobilized. Although excited, Jonathan felt a little apprehension, but quickly dismissed it. She hopped off the bed, snatched the bottle of champagne, and struggled trying to remove the cork. Finally, it popped and sailed across the room. She took a swig right out of the bottle.
“Want some?” she asked.
Jonathan nodded and surveyed her lovely curves. “I want more than some.”
“Patience, my dear.” She stood over him and slowly poured some champagne in his mouth.
“I never drank champagne like that before,” Jonathan said, “but I find it quite erotic.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” Maggie said. She went into the bathroom. When she returned, he could tell that she was hiding something behind her back. “Do you trust me, Jonathan?”
He did. To a point. But knew what she wanted to hear. “Unconditionally.”
“Let’s test that claim. I want you to close your eyes and open your mouth.”
“Now you’re scaring me.”
“If you trust me unconditionally, then there shouldn’t be anything to fear, right?”
Jonathan hesitated, but then squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth.
<
br /> He could feel Maggie straddling him again.
“Are you ready?”
He nodded, still lying with his mouth open.
“No peeking,” Maggie said. Before he could even imagine what she had planned for him, he felt her stuff a rag or piece of terrycloth deep into his mouth. His eyes opened wide and he tried to fight but Maggie had been too quick. Panic crashed over him.
“You never should have betrayed Dominic Gallo.” Maggie held up the almost full bottle of champagne. “Are you ready to be punished, you naughty boy?”
With the additional information Parisi had shared with Dupree about Tesler’s murder and its connection to Cassano, she was just itching to interrogate Cassano; so much so that she hadn’t even looked at Hansen’s bank statement and cell phone records. And of course, nothing dominated her thoughts more than the second letter she’d received.
Dupree half jogged to lockup with T.J. following behind.
“What’s the rush?” T.J. asked. “Is this a fire drill?”
“Parisi charged my battery, so I can’t wait to double-team our number one suspect.”
Dupree told T.J. about the second envelope.
“Are you shitting me?”
“Wish I was.”
“I’m sorry, Amaris, I really am.”
“Hey, it comes with the territory. Wouldn’t be the first time some asshole threatened me. And it won’t be the last.”
“Yeah, but using your mother’s name…”
Without saying a word to Cassano, who was yelling expletives, Dupree asked the on-duty policeman to unlock the jail cell and cuff the suspect. Dupree tightly gripped Cassano’s arm and hustled him to an interview room. When they entered the room, Cassano and T.J. sat down at the table, but Dupree paced the floor with her arms folded.
“I talked to a public defender,” Cassano yelled, “and you two assholes have violated my rights. You haven’t arrested me, haven’t read me my rights—”
“Let’s take care of business right now,” Dupree said. “You’re under arrest for the murders of Dr. Lauren Crawford and Ivan Tesler. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights I have just read to you?”
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