Crime Zero (28 page)

Pamela Weiss was dressed in black, and her face was pale with stress.

"Pamela, we can explain any concerns you have," said Madeline coolly. She sipped a glass of mineral water and looked completely unfazed by Pamela's anger.

"OK, this journalist Hank Butcher has given me this list of issues and questions to respond to before he goes public with new evidence." Pamela slapped her hand on the papers she had just flung onto the table. "I'll go through them for you. First of all, who the hell's Dr. Kathy Kerr? She claims that Project Conscience is little more than a test before it moves on to something more drastic, which apparently involves killing criminals with dangerous genes rather than curing them. This of course would be preposterous except that apparently there have been some deaths at San Quentin caused by a mutation of your vector."

Pamela straightened and walked around the table with her arms crossed, the fingers of her right hand drumming on her left arm. She wasn't just angry, Alice realized now; she was hurt too.

"And that's not all," said Pamela through gritted teeth. "She also claims that the serum we secretly tested on criminals is actually different from the one that gained FDA approval. And that you had her committed to a mental asylum so she couldn't expose this 'conspiracy.' "

Alice fingered the teardrop amulet around her neck and breathed deeply. Madeline was staring right at her. "Well, let's start with Dr. Kathy Kerr," Alice said. "I may have mentioned her before. She's a British-born scientist, and it was her initial project on curbing aggression in male primates that gave me the idea for Conscience. I recruited her nine years ago to head up one of the research teams, and she has been working for me ever since. She is brilliant but unbalanced. Apart from her original work she has contributed little over the last few years, and she's bitter. When we gained FDA approval for a serum she played no part in developing, she became defensive and angry. I promised her shared credit, but she refused."

Alice felt uncomfortable with the lies, but they were what was required. Madeline had said so.

Pamela frowned. "So what are you saying? That she invented these claims out of spite?"

"Mainly, yes."

Pamela's frown deepened. "Mainly? You mean, some of them are true? What about the San Quentin deaths? A whole list of symptoms is on this sheet of paper, symptoms that end up with either suicide or a brain hemorrhage."

"That did happen, yes."

"What!"

"But it was a mistake."

"A mistake? That's not what Kerr told Hank Butcher. It's no goddamn wonder he thinks our endgame is killing violent criminals. How did it happen?"

Alice adjusted her glasses. "Well, those men received corrupted samples. It was a one-time occurrence. A routine check highlighted the bad batch, and we managed to stop it before it was sent out to any more test subjects. The fatal samples had nothing to do with the proper serum we tested on the others. Somehow the batch was tampered with."

"Tampered with?"

"We can't prove anything. But when we checked all our procedures, the only weak link was the involvement of Kathy Kerr. She has access to most of the ViroVector facilities, and she has the knowledge. It would appear now that she has been disaffected for some time, and perhaps she sabotaged the batch to subvert the project. Luckily we discovered it before the problem became more widespread."

"But what about Axelman, Alice? It could look like you tried to kill him in revenge for Libby."

Madeline stepped in before Alice could reply. "Alice didn't know Axelman was responsible until after he had been executed. That was entirely coincidental. And before you ask, Pamela," she added, "yes, we did cover their deaths up. There was nothing we could do about them. They were on death row anyway, and any scandal would only have jeopardized the success of Conscience and your election. Right or wrong, whatever we did we did for you because we wanted to protect you. The country needs you as President, and it needs Project Conscience. Nothing we did was intended to betray you. We are your most loyal friends. We would never intentionally hurt you. You have to believe that."

Pamela stared at them, thinking through what they were saying. She looked so tired and beleaguered Alice could tell she wanted to believe them in order to focus on other more important issues. "What if the journalist can prove Axel-man's DNA was changed?"

"It doesn't matter," said Madeline emphatically. "His scare story about intentionally killing criminals doesn't stack up. There have been sixteen thousand men treated over the last eight or so years, and all are fine. Plus Axelman's body has been cremated along with the other five in San Quentin. So no further proof can be found as to why their DNA changed. More to the point, Axelman was a killer. He had no family, nor did the others. Even if the journalist could get all the proof in the world, no one would care. This Kathy Kerr has obviously done some digging and is using whatever she found to cause trouble. But she has no real proof of anything."

Pamela rubbed her temples. "But what about the FDA-approved serum? Kerr claims it was developed only four years ago, long after you started unauthorized trials on criminals. Are the serums different?"

Alice shrugged. "Again, strictly speaking, yes. There are minute differences, but nothing important. Certainly nothing to trouble the FDA."

Pamela sat down and held her head in her hands. "Then why the hell didn't you gain FDA approval for the one we did test?"

"Because we improved it. There were some minor concerns with the original serum, involving possible side ef

fects."

"Such as?"

Alice paused, and Pamela leaned forward, waiting. "There was a low-level risk of causing testicular and prostate cancer," said Alice.

"Cancer?" Pamela almost shouted the word. "The treatment we tested, the treatment that won me the election gives men cancer?"

"No, it doesn't. There is merely a very low risk that it might, so low it's hardly statistically significant. But we thought it best to iron out even this risk. So we developed an improved serum, which we tested on healthy human volunteers to gain FDA approval. That vector is Version Nine. Naturally all subsequent treatments will use this new vector."

Pamela struggled to remain calm. "So you lied to the FDA? And you lied to me?"

Madeline Naylor shook her head. "Pamela, you're missing the point. We have tested over sixteen thousand men, and all have benefited. Some risks needed to be taken; otherwise the whole project would have collapsed. Perhaps we should have been more open with you, but I decided against it because if we told you, it would compromise your position."

"Well, I'm compromised now."

"No, you're not. If the journalist had anything concrete, he would have used it. Kathy Kerr is simply stirring things up for reasons of her own. She is a bitter woman with a family history of mental instability. She has no real proof, and frankly, even if she did, it wouldn't matter now. The public and the media have bought into your vision of a crime-free future. They want it to work. Pedantic quibbling about the finer points of how one genetic vaccine differs from another won't change anything. The fact is, in the future all criminals will be treated by a Food and Drug Administration-approved vaccine that works. That's all anyone cares about. The journalist doesn't have a story. Trust me on this."

Pamela looked down at the sheet of paper, clearly wrestling with the issues. Alice could see she was weakening. "Still, what we did was wrong."

Madeline set her jaw. "You did nothing wrong. We did. But if you want to come clean and resign, go ahead. Throw away the chance of the millennium to cure one of the main scourges of society. I'll resign too, if you like, but it would be pointless. Yes, we did a few small wrongs, but we achieved a far greater good."

"What about Kathy Kerr's claim that you authorized her abduction and held her in an FBI mental facility to keep her quiet?"

Madeline snorted and clapped her hands together. "Well, that just proves she's making trouble. A mental asylum sounds like the perfect place for her, but I didn't put her in one. Pamela, frankly you have more important things to worry about than some deranged scientist with a grudge and a journalist trying to win a Pulitzer. Ignore them. I'm sorry if we hurt you by not telling you everything, but this is exactly why we didn't. Let us handle these minor annoyances, while you prevent Iraq from starting World War Three."

Before Pamela had time to answer, a cell phone on the table rang. Alice picked it up and listened. "Yes, Special Agent Toshack, the President is here. Yes, she will be with you in five minutes. Thank you." She smiled and put the phone down. "Well, Madam President, your Secret Service detail is waiting to escort you to the Pentagon."

Pamela stood then, and Alice rose from her seat to embrace her. "Please, Pam," said Alice, "always remember that we are your friends. If you can rely on no one else, you can rely on us."

"The way I see it, Pam," said Madeline Naylor, moving to hug her tightly in sinewy arms, "is that you have embarked on a great journey and it is our job to keep you from falling. I for one will do anything to stop that from happening. Anything."

Pamela studied them both for a moment, then gave a small nod and a smile. She seemed satisfied, even touched.

"Just tell me one thing before I go. What are you going to do about Kathy Kerr? She sounds like a real loose cannon."

Madeline laughed at that. "Don't worry about it, Pamela. She isn't your problem. She's ours. We'll talk to her."

Alice watched Pamela leave, escorted by two Secret Service agents. It appeared that their performance had allayed Pamela's fears, but Kathy Kerr was still most definitely a problem.

After the President had left, Alice silently reviewed the meeting. Madeline seemed to be doing the same. Alice checked her watch. She had arranged for the company jet to fly her back to San Francisco in an hour's time.

"Do you think she believes us?" Alice asked, preparing to leave.

Madeline nodded. "Yes, because she has no proof. And because she wants to."

"But what do we do about Kathy?"

Madeline smiled and lay back in her chair, putting her hands behind her head like a man. Her dark eyes glowed, and she looked surprisingly confident. "Well, Hank Butcher told me that Dr. Peters let her escape. And Jackson called me just before Pamela arrived to say that Dr. Peters has now been punished--permanently. Jackson's hot on Kathy's trail. He's pretty sure he knows where to find her. He knows who helped her get out."

"Who?"

Madeline paused and raised her left eyebrow. "Luke Decker."

Alice felt something hard and cold contract in her stomach. The last time Alice had seen Decker was when he led her out of that macabre gallery of death his father had consigned her daughter to. "So that's how Kathy found out about Axelman?"

"Yes, it seems they knew each other from way back. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. Jackson's people are specialists in this area."

Leading her out of the office, Madeline said, "By the way, did you read TITANIA's latest E-mail? Everything's in place. Now that we've got rid of Burbank we just have to sit and wait. As for Kathy Kerr and Luke Decker, they won't be standing much longer. Much bigger dominoes than they have fallen already."

In the black limousine driving her to the Pentagon, President Weiss reached into her coat and retrieved Hank Butcher's list of questions and the computer disc he had given her. She handed the disc to Toshack, the head of her Secret Service detail. He was a broad-shouldered man of medium height. He had sandy hair and a dimple in his chin, which made him look as if he were always just about to smile. But he rarely did.

"I need you to get this disc to Major General Allardyce at USAMRIID. Tell him I want a full analysis done. I also need you to check out someone called Dr. Kathy Kerr. Don't involve any other agencies. How soon can you get me some answers?"

"How soon do you want them?"

"Yesterday."

"That shouldn't be a problem, Madam President."

Chapter 26.

Mendoza Drive, Palo Alto. Thursday, November 6, 7:48 P.M.

As he pushed Kathy Kerr closer to the trunk of the tree, Luke Decker's guts churned with frustration. He was trapped. Checking the magazine of his SIG pistol, he wondered if he could reach around the tree and shoot out the light. He doubted it. To judge from the intensity of the dazzle, it was an FBI-issue handheld Maglite. Fitted with a two-thousand-watt bulb and a two-inch-diameter reflector, it could send out an adjustable beam so searing it bleached night, blinding the naked eye to anything, including the source. It was the flashlight equivalent of a power water hose.