“On the scientific level you’ve got nanotechnology and molecular electronics, with genetics being the software used to program the whole thing.
“At the commercial level you’re talking ‘pick and shovel’ companies, the genetic start-ups that sell devices for generating genetic data. Software companies that specialize in peddling vast amounts of data involving genetic information to the drug companies. And finally you have the giant pharmaceutical companies trying to cash in on new modalities of treating diseases. It’s what some are calling the genetic gold rush. And there are, conservatively speaking,” says Tucci, “hundreds of billions of dollars at stake.”
This catches Harry’s attention; I can see his eyes light up. He’s wondering how he can invest.
“It all started with gene sequencing, mapping the human gene. The genome project?” He looks at us as if perhaps we haven’t heard of this.
“They’ve mapped it. They’re working out the fine wrinkles as we speak. The question now is how to use it. Which genes on which chromosomes cause breast cancer, or lupus.”
“Or Huntington’s chorea,” I say.
“Precisely,” says Tucci.
“The theory, and it’s more than that now,” says Tucci, “is that electronics can play a part in this. It has been proven that electronic circuitry can be taken down to the molecular level, submicroscopic electronic circuits that can be introduced into living organisms. A kind of cellular computer chip. It’s believed that this is one way to code and carry genetic information.”
“Molecular electronics,” says Harry.
Tucci points at him with a finger as if to say he’s got it.
“Nanorobotics is the other leg. Microscopic robots that can be constructed to carry the newly programmed circuitry inside the organism. This would be the delivery system,” says Tucci. “Instead of injecting a drug and waiting for it to course its way through the bloodstream or to be absorbed into the tissue, you can insert programmed robotics on a microscopic level that will deliver the pre-programmed genetic information to a precise location, perhaps an organ system or an isolated tumor in the body, and deal with it at a genetic level. You can turn chemical switches on and off, enzymes that will allow the human immune system to combat disease. To treat conditions that today are terminal, and to reverse them.”
“They think that’s possible?”
Tucci looks at him and nods soberly. “It’s only a theory, but the science to accomplish it exists.”
“A magic bullet,” I say.
“Right. It has all kinds of implications,” he says, “for good and evil. There are the usual ethical concerns that follow all genetic research. You’re dealing with the basic building blocks of life. There’s the concern that perhaps we’re tapping the fountain of youth.”
Harry looks at him quizzically.
“Issues of overpopulation,” says Tucci, “if in fact we cure major maladies and suddenly life expectancy doubles. What do we do with all the people? How do we feed them? Who gets the new treatments and who doesn’t? Who is given the keys to extended life and who dies? Those are major issues.
“But here there’s one more element of concern that may outweigh all of these. We are talking about the creation of an engineered life form, an organism unto itself. It could have the ability to propagate, to regenerate itself. A virus, for example, coded in a genetic string and carried by molecular electronics and nanotechnology, could reproduce itself inside the body. In fact, that would be part of the design, in order to enhance treatment. But what if its design were to be a weapon instead of a cure? It could be the ultimate doomsday device. Microscopic nanorobotics, engineered to carry a virus capable of replicating billions of times over a short span of time and invading life forms, or stripping the earth of vegetation to produce famine.
“They already have a name for it,” says Tucci. “The GNR threat: genetics, nanotechnology and robotics. According to theorists, it has the capacity to replace the NBCs of the last century—nuclear, biological and chemical. In its own way the potential is much more insidious.
“There’s always a downside,” he says. “The other side of the coin of progress. Some people don’t want to take the chance. You can see why. The question is, How do you stop it? How do you put the genie of knowledge back in the bottle?”
“And you think this is what Crone is working on?” I ask.
“It’s a distinct possibility. Conventional wisdom is that we are five or six years away from a breakthrough. But who knows?” Tucci looks at us with wary little eyes like two olives floating on egg whites.
“One thing is certain. Whoever is first is going to make a fortune. The corporation that controls the process is likely to propel its major shareholders to the top of the Forbes list, overnight. They will become the wealthiest people in the world.” He says this with no question or hint of doubt.
“People will be reciting their names, and the world will be wondering where they came from.”
“And the scientist who develops it?” I ask.
“Is a shoo-in for a Nobel prize,” says Tucci. “He or she will be able to write his or her own ticket. And the breakthrough’s likely to come from some shop like Crone’s.”
“Why’s that?” asks Harry.
“A small operation. Attached to a university for research and support, but sufficiently independent so that no one, except perhaps the director of operations, knows precisely how all the pieces fit. One day there will be a press release, and the floodgates will open—the ones controlling the fountain of youth.”
chapter
eight
dr. Gabriel Warnake is a private consultant under contract to the county crime lab. He is a hired gun, and works almost exclusively for police agencies around the country. He holds a doctorate in chemistry and can do a wicked reading in spectrographic analysis, using heat to break down molecules in evidence, exploiting them like fingerprints. He has burned his share of defense lawyers in his time. Warnake is also expert in forensic microscopy, the use of a microscope to identify and analyze hair, fiber and other trace evidence. This afternoon Tannery has him on the stand working on the white nylon cable tie used to kill Kalista Jordan.
“Can you tell the jury what this cable tie is made of?” Tannery is holding up the cut tie in its plastic bag, little rust-colored splotches still evident for the jury to see. They will no doubt take this as blood. It is, in fact, an indelible marker placed on the tie for purposes of identification at the crime lab.
“It’s a polymer-based resin,” says Warnake. “In the industry, it’s known as nylon sixty-six. It’s an old compound developed by Du Pont back in the thirties.”
“Is it always white in color?”
“Actually, what you have there is clear, sort of an opaque. But you can put dyes or pigments in it. Basically make it any color you want. Some manufacturers color-code their ties for purposes of identification as to tensile strength, or to identify certain electrical cables that are bundled together for later reference.”
“That’s what they’re used for mostly? Tying up electrical cables?”
“They’re used for a lot of things, but that’s a main one. A major market,” says Warnake.
“Can you tell the jury how these cable ties are made?”
“That particular polymer resin is injected into a mold, under heat and high pressure. In that form it will flow, not like water, more like honey, viscous.”
“What kind of heat are we talking about?”
“Nylon sixty-six melts at around four hundred and sixty degrees Fahrenheit. They’ll take it up to around five hundred and thirty degrees. That way, they can get it good and hot in order to work it. The mold temperature is usually lower. Once it starts to flow, it’s injected very quickly under high pressure. Five hundred to fifteen hundred pounds per square inch, depending on the mold and the heat applied.”
“Can you tell us about the molds used for forming the ties, what they are like?”
“They’re ma
de of steel. Capable of containing high pressure, and polished to a very fine finish on the inside.”
Tannery smiles, finally getting to where he wants to be. Harry and I have speculated on this, the two areas where their witness might go. Warnake has rendered no formal written report, so we are left to guess. We are figuring toolmarks, either during manufacture or after. One presents a very real problem; the other may be less problematic, depending on what the good doctor has to say.
“You’ve actually seen these molds?” asks Tannery. “Observed them in production?”
“I have.”
“Have you examined the insides of one?”
“A cross section,” says Warnake. “Yes.”
“And did you bring that cross section with you today?”
Warnake nods and reaches for his briefcase.
“Let the record reflect,” says the judge, “that the witness is producing an item from his briefcase. Let me see that.”
Warnake hands it up to the judge on the bench, where a few seconds later we are holding an impromptu conference off to the side.
I tell Coats we’re seeing this for the first time.
“Why no notice?” asks the judge.
“We’re offering it only as a sample, Your Honor. To demonstrate the process,” says Tannery. “We don’t intend to put it into evidence.”
The judge considers this, then looks down at me.
“You have any objection, Mr. Madriani?”
“As long as it’s made clear that it’s not the mold used to manufacture any of the ties in question. And subject to an opportunity by our own experts to examine it later.”
Tannery nods. “No problem.”
“You can use it for that limited purpose,” says the judge. “Subject to later examination.”
Like that, the prosecutor is back to the witness asking him to describe the mold as Warnake holds it up for the jury to see. “I don’t know if you can see it from there, but there’s a small cavity, this line right here.” The polished edges, the tiny teeth of the locking gears cut in steel and polished, glitter like facets in a diamond under the overhead canister lights.
“This is a half section of a full mold. Ordinarily there’d be another half and the cavity would be sealed inside a steel block. You can see how the inside of the cavity has been polished.
“The nylon would be injected here into this port, until the entire cavity was filled, under very high pressure. This would happen in a fraction of a second. The speed ensures what they call uniform melt delivery, and it avoids what is known as premature freezing. If the nylon were to harden before it had a chance to fully form, you’d get a defective cable tie.
“Once it’s cool—they use water for that—the mold is opened and the finished cable tie is ejected. The whole process takes only a few seconds. Then it starts over again.”
“I assume they can make these cable ties in high volume?”
“One press,” says Warnake, “has as many as twenty or thirty individual molds. They can produce several thousand cable ties in an hour.”
“Is every one of them the same?”
“Only to the naked eye,” says the witness. “They look the same.”
“But they aren’t?”
“Not under a microscope.”
“Perhaps you can explain to the jury?” says Tannery.
“By examining the individual ties under a microscope it’s possible to identify what are called toolmarks,” says Warnake. “In the manufacture of anything involving molds, where uniform pressure is applied, and where metal comes into contact with the item being made, the surface of the metal will impart tiny microscopic marks on the surface of the product. No two molds are exactly the same. No matter how highly polished or how uniformly made, the surface of the metal will impart its own individual surface characteristics on the item in question.”
“Like fingerprints?” asks Tannery.
“That’s a good analogy.”
“In this case, on the nylon cable tie?”
“That’s correct.”
“Dr. Warnake, did you have occasion to examine the cable tie in this evidence bag, the one used to kill Kalista Jordan?”
“I did.”
“And did you find individual toolmarks on the surface of that cable tie?”
“I did.”
“And were you able to locate the mold used to make that cable tie?”
“By process of elimination and some research, I was.”
“Can you tell the jury where that cable tie was made?”
“It was made by a firm in New Jersey called Qualitex Plastics.”
“Do you know when it was made?”
“No. That I cannot tell you.”
“But you’re certain it was made by this company, Qualitex.”
“I am. I was able, by examining other cable ties produced by that firm, to identify ties that had the same identical pattern of toolmarks as the tie in that evidence bag.”
“And that would indicate that the sample ties you examined were made by the same mold as the cable tie that killed Kalista Jordan?”
“That’s correct.”
“And you’re certain about this? To the exclusion of all other manufacturing molds that might be used in this process, that this particular mold at Qualitex made the tie used to strangle the victim in this case?”
“I am.”
“Thank you.” Tannery retreats to the evidence cart and fishes through a couple of cardboard boxes until he finds what he’s looking for. He asks permission to approach the witness.
“Doctor, I would ask you to examine the cable ties in this bag.”
Warnake takes it and looks at the ties through the plastic bag.
“Do you recognize them?”
“I recognize the tag tied to them.”
“Are those your initials on the tag in question?”
“They are.”
“And did you examine the ties in that bag?”
“I did.”
“Your Honor, for the record, the ties in question are the cable ties found and previously identified by Lieutenant de Angelo during his search of the defendant’s house,” says Tannery. “They were marked for identification, and the record will reflect that they were discovered in the pocket of Dr. Crone’s sport coat hanging in the hall closet.”
Coats doesn’t even look up. Instead he nods his assent as he makes a note on the pad in front of him on the bench.
“Dr. Warnake, can you tell the jury what you did to examine the cable ties in this bag, the ones found in the defendant’s coat pocket?”
“I examined them separately, placing each of them under a stereo microscope. I looked for toolmarks on the surface at specific locations along each of the ties.”
“And what did you discover?”
“I determined that they were made by the same manufacturer as the cable tie used to strangle the victim, Kalista Jordan.”
There are noticeable murmurs in the courtroom. Whispering by people beyond the bar, some press types and the media sensing blood in the water.
“Were they produced by the same molds that produced that cable tie? The one used to kill Kalista Jordan?”
“No. They were made by other molds in the same production run. Molds in the possession of that same manufacturer.”
“Let me get this straight.” Tannery starts motioning with his hands as if drawing a picture for the jury. “There’s a whole line of these molds at the factory where they’re made? Not just one.”
“That’s correct.”
“And each one of these molds is giving off different toolmarks as they’re injected with molten plastic?”
“That’s right.”
“And after the ties are injected and cooled, what happens to them?”
“They’re packaged and shipped to distribution points around the country, wholesalers in some cases, retailers in others.”
“So if you went to the store and bought one of these packages of cable ties,
you’d get ties that could be traced back to a whole line of manufacturing molds, probably in the same plant?”
“Yes. I believe that’s true.”
“And that’s what you found here?”
“Yes.”
“You were able to trace the production mold that made the tie used to kill Kalista Jordan?”
“Yes.”
“And in that same manufacturing plant you were able to identify molds that produced the two cable ties found in the coat pocket of the defendant”—Tannery points with an outstretched arm and an accusing finger—“the coat belonging to Dr. David Crone?”
“That’s right.”
Coats is now sitting up straight, looking down at the witness for the first time, his dark robe and gleaming bald head like an inverted judicial exclamation point to this evidence.
“Were you able to conclude from this that the tie used to kill the victim, Kalista Jordan, and the cable ties found in the coat pocket of the defendant had been purchased at the same time, from the same location?”
“Objection.” I’m on my feet. “Calls for speculation.”
“I’m only asking as to the probability,” says Tannery. “The witness has surveyed manufacturers and points of sale. He should be allowed to testify on the issue.”
Coats is not sure about this. He wants to talk to us. He calls the lawyers up to the side of the bench.
“Mr. Madriani, it seems as though the witness has already testified to this.”
“Then it’s been asked and answered, Your Honor. There should be no need for the question.”
“No, it’s not quite the same.” Tannery wades in. “I asked him about production runs, and shipping practices. I’m only trying to tie it all together,” he says.
“There’s no way this witness can know whether the tie used to kill the victim and the ties found in the defendant’s pocket were from the same store.” I am red out to the tips of my ears. “This exceeds any issue of expertise. It raises questions of factual knowledge.”
“It raises issues of probabilities,” says Tannery. “We know all the ties came from the same factory. They came from the same press run of machines. Is it not probable they were purchased at the same store?”
The Jury Page 10