Peggy Sue Got Murdered

"Was this Lou's partner?" asked M. J. "The one who got hit in South Lexington?"

Shradick nodded. "Sitting in a marked car, can you believe it? Some guy drives by and just starts shooting. From what I hear, he and Lou, they were like this." He pressed two fingers together. "We lost two down there, the same corner. Bad luck spot. Got a lot of bad luck spots in this town. Bolton and Swarthmore, that's another one. That's where my partner went down. Drug bust went sour, and he got boxed in a blind alley." He put the sandwich down, as though he'd suddenly lost his appetite. "And we lost one down on Dorchester, just last month. One of our gals, five-year vet. Perp got hold of her gun, turned it on her…" He shook his head mournfully and began to gather up all the sandwich wrappings.

That must be how every cop sees this town, M. J. realized. An Albion policeman looks at a map of the city and he sees more than just street names and addresses. He sees the corner where a partner got shot, the alley where a drug deal went bad, the street where an ambulance crew knelt in the rain trying to save a child. For a cop, a city map is a grid of bad memories.

Beamis came back into the room. "Okay, Vince," he said. "Things are quiet for the moment. Might as well do it now."

M. J. rose. "I'll meet you there."

Shradick fished his pocket pager out of the drawer and clipped it to his belt. "We going to Cygnus?" he asked.

"No choice," said Beamis. "Seeing as Novak here isn't go

"I'm just asking you to do your job, Lou," she said.

"Job, hell. I'm doing you a favor."

"You're doing the city a favor."

"Albion?" Beamis laughed and pulled on his jacket. "The junkies are killing themselves off. Far as I'm concerned, the biggest favor I could do Albion is to look the other way."

"It's a secured area," said Adam. "Only our cleared perso

Shradick and Beamis went in first, then M. J. As she passed Adam, he reached out and gave her arm a squeeze. The unexpected intimacy of that contact and the whiff of his after-shave made her stomach dance a jig of excitement. He had seemed all business when he'd greeted them, so sober in his gray suit. Now, seeing that look in his eye, she knew the spell was still alive between them.

"I'm glad you came," he murmured. "How did you manage?"

"Wheelock's covering for me. I took the day off. Told him I had to buy a new car."

"Why not the truth?"

"He'd prefer I dropped this case. So would they." She nodded toward Beamis and Shradick, who were peering curiously at a blinking computer screen. "I think I'm being conscientious. They think I'm a pain in the neck."

They all moved to a door marked Area 8.

"This is where Zestron-L's being developed," said Adam, leading them inside.

M. J.'s first impression was that she'd stepped through a time portal into a future world of black and white and chrome. Even the man who hurried to greet them did not violate that color scheme. His coat was a pristine white, his hair jet black. "Dr. Herbert Esterhaus, project supervisor," he said, reaching out to shake their hands. "I'm in charge of Zestron-L development."

"And this is the area you manage?" asked Beamis, glancing about the lab where half a dozen workers ma

"Yes. The project's confined to this section-the room you see here and the adjoining three rooms. The only access is through that door you entered, plus an emergency exit, through the animal lab. And that's wired to an alarm."

"Only authorized perso

"That's right. Just our staff. I really don't see how any Zestron could have gotten out."

"Obviously it walked out," said Beamis. "In someone's pocket."

Dr. Esterhaus glanced at Adam. There was a lot said in that glance, M. J. thought. An unspoken question. Only now did she realize how skittery Esterhaus seemed, his bony fingers rubbing together, his rodent eyes noting Beamis's and Shradick's every move.

"How well do you people screen your perso

"When we hire someone," said Adam, "we're interested in scientific credentials. And talent. We don't do polygraphs or credit checks. We like to assume our people are honest."

"Maybe you assumed wrong," said Beamis.

"Everyone in this project is a long-term employee," said Adam. "Isn't that right, Herb?"

Esterhaus nodded. "I've been here six years. Most of the people,"-he gestured to the workers in white coats-"have been with Cygnus even longer."

"Any exceptions?" asked Shradick.

Esterhaus paused and glanced at Adam. Again, that nervous look, that silent question.

"There was my stepdaughter, Maeve," Adam finished for him.

Beamis and Shradick exchanged looks. "She worked in this department?" asked Beamis.

"Just cleanup," said Esterhaus quickly. "I mean, Maeve wasn't really qualified to do anything else. But she did an acceptable job."

"Why did she leave?"

"We had some… disagreements," said Esterhaus.

"What disagreements?" pressed Beamis.

"She… started coming in late. And she didn't always dress appropriately. I mean, I didn't mind the green hair and all, but all the dangly jewelry, it's not really safe around this equipment."

M. J. looked around at the two-tone room and tried to imagine what a splash of color Maeve Quantrell would have made. All these white-coated scientists must have thought her some wild and exotic creature, to be tolerated only because she was the boss's daughter.

"So what?" said Beamis. "You fired her?"

"Yes," said Esterhaus, looking very unhappy. "I discussed it with Mr. Quantrell and he agreed that I should do whatever was necessary."

"Why was she coming in late?" asked M. J.

They all looked at her in puzzlement. "What?" asked Esterhaus.

"That bothers me. The why. She was doing her job, and then she wasn't. When did it start?"

"Six months ago," said Esterhaus.

"So six months ago, she starts coming in late, or not at all. What changed?" She looked at Adam.

He shook his head. "She was living on her own. I don't know what was going on with her."

"Strung out?" asked Beamis.

"Not that I was aware of," said Esterhaus.

"She was angry, that's what it was," said a voice. It was one of the researchers, a woman sitting at a nearby computer terminal. "I was here the day you two had that fight, remember, Herb? Maeve was like a cat spitting water. Said she wasn't going to take your… nonsense any longer, and then she stomped out." The woman shook her head. "No control, that girl. Very impulsive."

"Thank you, Rose, for the information," Esterhaus said tightly. He motioned them towards the next room. "I'll show you the rest of the lab."

The tour continued, into the animal lab with its cages of barking dogs. The emergency exit was at the rear, and on the door was the sign: Alarm will sound if opened.

"So you see," said Esterhaus, "there's no way someone can just walk in and steal anything."

"But somehow the drug got out," asked Beamis.

"There's one other possibility," said Esterhaus. "There could have been simultaneous development. Another lab somewhere, working on the same thing. For someone to steal our drug, they'd have to break into Cygnus, through a secured door. They'd have to know our access codes."

"Which all your employees know," said Beamis.

"Well, yes."

"One question," said Shradick, who'd been jotting things in his notebook. "Have you changed the access code lately?"

"Not in the last year."