Blood Pact

person you're questioning their head. Let them talk about whatever they want, we'll teach you how to separate the gold from the dross. But sometimes, you have to cut it short and take control…" she just couldn't do it.

    She didn't want to hear what a wonderful person her mother had been, how much they'd all depended on her, how much they missed her, but not listening felt like a betrayal. And she'd done enough of that already.

    The box of personal effects she'd taken from the office sat accusingly at the end of the coffee table. She hadn't been able to do more with it than get it back to the apartment and even that hadn't been easy. It had weighed a lot more than it looked like it should.

    All at once, she became aware that Celluci had just asked her a question and she had no idea what it had been. "Sorry," she said, shoving her glasses back into place with enough force to drive the plastic bridge into her forehead.

    He exchanged a look with Henry and although she didn't catch the content, she didn't like the possibilities. Separately, she could barely handle them. At this point a united front, on any issue, would be beyond her.

    "I asked," he repeated levelly, "about Dr. Burke's grad students. You told us she had some. Any chance they could be doing the work under her supervision?”

    "I doubt it. According to Mrs. Shaw, when I went back for that appointment list, one's into bacteria, a couple have something to do with computers, and one, and I'm paraphrasing here, is a fuck-up who can't make up his mind. I'll . . ." Celluci opened his mouth but she corrected herself before he could speak, "we'll check them out further tomorrow.”

    Henry sat forward in his chair, his expression one she'd begun to recognize as his hunting face. "So you do suspect Dr. Burke?”

    "I don't know what I think about Dr. Burke." Looking back on the interview, all Vicki could hear was the doctor's voice saying quietly, "It's amazing how much you resemble your mother.” Which was an irrelevant observation at the best of times and doubly so now; her mother was dead. "She's got the necessary arrogance, that's for damned sure, and the intelligence and the background, but all anyone can talk about is what a brilliant administrator she is." She shrugged and wished she hadn't; her shoulders felt as though they were balancing lead weights. "Still, until we know she didn't do it, she stays on the list. I think, though, we can safely ignore Dr.
    Devlin.”

    "Why?”

    "Because he could never have kept the research secret. If he were doing this ," she made the innocuous pronoun sound like a curse, "he wouldn't be able to keep from telling the world. Besides, I gather he's a devout Irish Catholic and until recently, they weren't even keen on autopsies.”

    "He's also a scientist," Celluci pointed out. "And he could be acting.”

    "All the world's a stage," Henry added quietly, "and we but players on it.”

    Celluci rolled his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

    "That if you do talk to the person responsible, they're going to lie.”

    "That's why you build a body of evidence, Fitzroy. To catch the liars. We know more tonight than we did last night and we'll know more tomorrow than we do now. Eventually the truth will out. Nothing stays hidden forever.”

    We haven't got forever. Henry wanted to say. Every moment that passes eats into her. How long before there's nothing left but a cause? "We need a smoking gun," he said instead.

    Celluci snorted in disbelief. The phrase sounded ridiculous coming from Henry's mouth. "You have been reading the literature.”

    Henry ignored him. "I'm going to track the other one; the male who killed the teenager. There were too many police around to do it last night. If I find him, I'll find your mother's body as well.”

    "And then?" Vicki demanded. "What do we do then?”

    "We give them to Detective Fergusson. Lead him to the laboratory. Let him deal with the . . .”

    "Wait a minute," Celluci interrupted. "You're actually suggesting we let the police handle this?”

    "Why not? We have no one to protect this time, except me, and unlike ancient Egyptian gods of darkness or demons summoned up out of hell, mad scientists should fall within the capabilities of the law.”

    Celluci closed his mouth. Wasn't that his argument?

    "Henry, you can't go to the police," Vicki began.

    Henry smiled and cut her off. "I won't. I'll deliver the information to you. You'll deliver it to the police.