“Because I was scared to death that Cassano would come after me. The morning after Lauren was killed, Jake Sullivan called me. He said that Cassano had paid him a visit and asked him to contact me and give me a message.”
“And the message was?” T.J. asked.
“If I fingered him in any way, he’d gut me like a pig.”
“Do you think that your step-father orchestrated this on his own?” Dupree asked.
“Probably not.”
“Who else is involved?” Dupree asked.
“He kept me in the dark so I really don’t know. But you might want to speak with Dr. Mason at Horizon.”
“Why do you say that?” Dupree asked.
“Because they had a pretty close relationship.”
“So, being part of this scam to steal Dr. Crawford’s computer didn’t bother you?” Dupree asked. “Especially after what happened to her?”
“Sure it bothered me. Tore my heart out. But my step-father convinced me it was for the greater good. He swore that he had never intended that Lauren be harmed in any way.”
“But how would your step-father or anyone else for that matter, benefit from stealing Dr. Crawford’s computer?” Dupree asked.
“I honestly can’t answer that.”
“And you never asked that question?” T.J. said.
Lentz bit his lip. “No.”
“So, apparently,” T.J. said, “your step-father trusted that you would never share this information with anyone, particularly the cops.”
“Why would I? That would make me an accomplice. Besides, I’m cooperating so the DA will reduce the conspiracy to commit murder charge. That’s what we agreed on, right?”
“We’ll do everything we can to convince the DA to reduce the charges,” Dupree said. “However, you will have to testify in court.”
“I’ll do anything to ensure that Cassano gets what he deserves.”
A lull came over the room.
“A few more questions,” Dupree said. “First, do you know Ivan Tesler?”
“Never heard of him.”
“What’s Maggie Hansen’s part in this?” Dupree asked.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Come on, Mr. Lentz,” Dupree said. “We know there was bad blood between Dr. Crawford and Ms. Hansen.”
“Sure there was, but I swear that she has no knowledge of anything.”
“Considering that you’re sweet on Ms. Hansen,” Dupree said, “how can we be sure you’re not trying to protect her?”
“Give me a lie detector test. I’m telling you the truth.”
Dupree believed him. In fact, she felt that his whole story was too bizarre to be fabricated.
“One final thing,” Dupree said. “We’re letting you leave, but don’t even think about leaving New York.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Dupree left T.J. sitting at the table and escorted Lentz to the precinct exit. Just before he left the precinct, she stopped him.
“By the way, you know you can’t keep the money, right?”
“What?” Lentz’s face flushed red. “I don’t understand.”
“When you receive compensation for actions associated with a felony, the money is confiscated.”
“Hardly sounds fair.”
“Fair?” Dupree felt herself losing control. “Was it fair that one of the most brilliant research scientists of our time was senselessly murdered? Does it seem fair that thousands, perhaps millions of people will die of cancer because Dr. Crawford’s research is on hold? Does it seem fair that Mrs. Crawford has to spend the rest of her life mourning her daughter’s brutal murder?”
Lentz seemed to be evaluating her words, but didn’t show any signs of regret. “Does that mean I have to forfeit the Audi, too?”
Dupree wanted to punch Lentz square in the jaw, but let her anger pass. “We’ll be in touch real soon.”
Dupree stomped away and whispered, “What a fucking asshole.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I almost lost it in there, T.J.,” Dupree admitted. “When Lentz was leaving he said something that made me see red.”
“Care to share it?”
She told him about her parting conversation with Lentz.
“I guess he didn’t love Dr. Crawford as much as he loved money,” T.J. said.
“What’s your read on his wacky story?” Dupree asked.
“Call me crazy, but I think he’s leveling with us. And you?”
“I’m right there with you, partner,” Dupree said. “Here’s what I think: when Gallo and his cohorts realized that Dr. Crawford was onto something that could completely change cancer research as we know it, they wanted a piece of the action. But Dr. Crawford wasn’t interested. So, they needed to get her out of the way.”
“So,” T.J. said, “you think that Gallo made a deal with Cassano to murder Dr. Crawford rather than just having him take her computer?”
“That’s what I think,” Dupree said. “Even if they got their hands on her computer, how could they know for sure that it contained the complete research data? It might have taken them years to piece things together. But if they got rid of her and partnered with Horizon, they’d have access to the main servers and all the clinical trials, and every other piece of data. And I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that Gallo’s cohorts are big pharmaceutical companies with virtually unlimited financial resources.”
“That would place Mason in an awkward situation,” T.J. said. “He was in the perfect position to spearhead this whole conspiracy.”
“Sure was.”
“Both Dr. Mason and Maggie Hansen made a valid point that there may be drug companies out there—particularly those making millions on chemo drugs—who would benefit from suppressing Dr. Crawford’s findings,” T.J. said. “Maybe that’s what Gallo and company hoped to do.”
“Good point, but I don’t think so. They’d stand to make ten times more money by completing Dr. Crawford’s research, patenting the drugs, and selling them for a gazillion dollars. I mean we’re talking about a treatment that can extend the lives of terminal cancer patients, while preserving their quality of life. And in some instances, the treatment could actually cure certain forms of cancer. We’re talking about a money machine.”
Dupree looked at her watch. “Let’s get some lunch before we head over to Horizon.”
“Great idea. I’m starving.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
After having a quick lunch at Joshua’s Deli, Dupree and T.J. headed for the Horizon Cancer Research Center in the Bronx.
“I can’t believe you ate that entire corn beef sandwich,” Dupree said. “And that’s after you downed a half dozen kosher pickles.”
“Hey, a growing boy needs his fuel.”
“Well, if you keep fueling your body like that, make sure you’ve got a closet full of fat pants.”
“Aren’t we the witty one today,” T.J. said.
“I’m just messing with you.” Dupree laughed out loud. “Some women actually like chubby men.”
Dupree was relieved that in spite of the seriousness of homicide investigations, T.J. and she could still enjoy a little humor. When a cop is all formal and uptight, it makes the job harder and keeps the blood pressure elevated.
After weaving through traffic for forty-five minutes, Dupree and T.J. pulled into the lot next to the ten-story building where Horizon’s facility was located. They walked in the front door, and without uttering a sound, flashed their IDs as they passed the almost-sleeping security guard. Then they hopped on the elevator. When they stepped off the elevator, the perky receptionist promptly greeted them.