Fatal Reaction

crystallographer who works on the ZK-501 project at Azor.”
    “What’s that?”
    “They’re trying to find the next generation of anti-inflammatory drug, one that’s more effective than cortisone but with fewer side effects. Michael Childress is a senior investigator on the project.”
    “What can you tell me about him?”
    “I should have pulled his curriculum vitae for you, but I didn’t think of it. All I can really tell you about him so far is that he’s famous and despised.”
    “Despised?”
    “I really don’t think that’s too strong a term. Stephen and I took him out to dinner once. I found him extremely unpleasant—arrogant, self-centered, abrasive. I gather he has something of a reputation for expropriating other people’s work.”
    “So what was his connection with Danny?”
    “That’s the big question. At the time he died, Danny was working almost full time on the ZK-501 project, trying to find a source of outside funding to keep the project afloat. I’m sure they must have had some dealings, but I can’t tell you anything more than that.”
    “I’ll have to check him out.”
    The waiter came and took away our salad plates, materializing a few seconds later with our entrees.
    “You know,” I said, cutting into my steak, “while we’re on the subject, there’s somebody else I think you should check out.” As we ate I explained to him about Danny’s friendship with Takisawa’s son-in-law, Hiroshi Toyoda.
    “The plot thickens,” remarked Elliott, taking careful notes as I spoke.
    “Not necessarily,” I replied. “At this point I have no reason to assume Hiroshi was even in the country on the day Danny died.”
    “That shouldn’t be too difficult to find out. But if he was the one with Danny when he died, we don’t have to go looking too far for the reason he wouldn’t want anyone to know he was there.”
    “Before you get too excited you’d better think about what’s on the videotape,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I think the guy in the raincoat looked too big to be Japanese.”
     
    As the doorman flagged down a cab Elliott helped me with my coat. Both of us had drunk enough cabernet to constitute an excuse for just about anything. Standing in the darkened cloakroom, his hands lingering on my shoulders, I would not be honest if I said I didn’t consider the possibilities. But I was not drunk enough to guarantee that I wouldn’t bolt as I had the last time, nor stupid enough not to foresee the burden of any indiscretion, like a piece of awkward baggage, that would then have to be carted around.
    We parted as we had so many times before, with things unsaid or deliberately ignored. I must confess that the whole ride home I thought nothing of Danny or Takisawa or Azor Pharmaceuticals’ predicament. Once inside the apartment I found Claudia’s suitcase sitting in the entrance hall and a message waiting for me on the answering machine. Whoever called must have done so after Claudia had gone to bed. My roommate’s sleep is much too precious to her to allow a phone in her bedroom. Instead she sleeps with her beeper on the pillow.
    I pushed the button to rewind the tape and kicked off my shoes, willing the circulation to come back to my feet. The lights were off in the hallway that (led to the back of the apartment and everything was quiet except for the whir of the machine. Finally the tape clicked and a female voice filled the room.
    “Ms. Millholland? This is Dr. Julia Gordon with the Cook County medical examiner’s office. I’ve been trying to reach Stephen Azorini, but I see your number is also in the file, so I thought I’d try you as well. I was hoping that one of you would be available to come and see me at my office tomorrow. Morning is best for me, but I’m sure I could accommodate you anytime that is convenient for you. I’ll be in at eight and I think you’ll have an easier time the earlier you arrive. I’m afraid the media has become a permanent fixture outside our building, but they’re not generally out in full force until after ten o’clock. I’ll leave your name at the front desk so that they’ll know I’m expecting you. If there’s a problem...”
    I waited for the end of the message. Then I picked up the receiver and dialed Stephen’s number. It was after eleven o’clock and I was afraid I might wake him, but the phone just rang until the answering machine picked up. I tried his office and got no answer. I tried his car