Gene opened his mouth, and the doctor jumped in ahead. "Taggart. James Taggart was the man's name."
"Where is he now?"
"He's dead, like the rest. I will show you the records later. May I continue?"
Gene exchanged a glance with Doug. "Please do."
"As—" the Doctor began. Gene interrupted him with a raised hand while Sam's voice broke into his ear.
"Samarbeide Medisin went belly-up in the early nineties. Anything Chinese at that time might be impossible to track. I'll get the corporate research team on both and let you know what we find."
"Thanks, Sam," Gene said to the air. He dropped his hand and looked at Lefkowitz. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"
"As Mr. Taggart told it to me, he used one of those Internet classmate finders to see how his fellow patients turned out in life. Fredrick Grier had killed his mother with a meat cleaver, then threw himself off a building. Iyov Daniels killed three people at a liquor store before the clerk killed him with a shotgun." His hands shook, and he cleared his throat. "Roy Archer's wife found him slamming his newborn baby's head into the floor. He charged at her and she fled. I read the police report. When they handcuffed him, he started crashing his own head into anything that came near.
"It was the treatment. The therapy changed something in them, then it broke them."
"Now just wait a goddamn minute," Marty said. "I see where this is headed. These are mercy killings. You're doing this to save lives. You're not really a murderer. You're a hero! Spare us the bullshit, doc." Gene gave him a withering look.
The doctor looked up at Marty and gathered his thoughts. "Agent, I murdered over two thousand people in the 1970s. They just don't all know it yet. All I've been doing is trying to save their friends and family."
"Even if all of this is true," Carl said, "you couldn't possibly know that the people you kill will definitely suffer psychotic episodes."
"Of course I cannot know," Lefkowitz responded. "In order to know, I'd need tissue samples and DNA maps of multiple patients. Then I'd have to re-create the adenovirus therapy. At that point I'd need to test it on primates, something as close to human as possible. Rhesus monkeys, perhaps. And then maybe chimpanzees."
"Something like that," Carl said.
"Exactly like that," Lefkowitz said. "Ninety-eight percent of rhesus monkeys succumb within a year. Would you like to know the statistics for chimpanzees?" Carl's comment had obviously annoyed him. "Six percent within thirty days. Eight percent within a year. It spikes to eighty-four percent within five years. Only two are still alive, and they try to kill everything that gets near them. They beat themselves against their bars unless under restraint. Would you like to meet them?"
Carl looked incredulous. "But it's been more than thirty years since the last patient, human patient, was treated."
"It's slower in humans. Much slower. But it is still inevitable."
"Doctor," Gene said, "how many people are we talking about here?"
"Of the just over two thousand," Lefkowitz said, "six hundred and twelve are still alive. Or they were, as of last night. That doesn't account for VanEpp's patients."
"Jesus," Doug said.
"Over eight hundred of my patients have died while committing murder, attempting to commit murder, or as part of a murder-suicide, six hundred within the past five years. It appears that the longer it takes for the episode to occur, the worse it is. My chimps support that theory, as do the more recent psychotic breaks."
Carl still looked skeptical. "I suppose you have evidence that supports these claims?"
"Evidence?" He chuckled sadly. "I have proof. What would you like first? Patient records? A vial of the 'cure?' Newspaper articles showing what happens to my patients when I don't get to them in time? The scientific documentation? Frozen specimens of the monkeys? Video of the chimps? The two surviving chimps? How about Roy Archer? He is in a sanitarium in Maine. I have the address. Which of these do you want to see?"
"We'll take it all," Carl said.
Paul looked antsy. Afraid of what he might do, Gene spoke up. "Do you confess that you hired an assassin to kill Kevin Parsons?"
"I did that, yes, and many others," Lefkowitz said. Paul twitched as if to step forward but restrained himself. Doug grabbed the back of his shirt.
"And you acknowledge that, after accepting the job, Kevin Parsons disappeared and the killer refunded your money?"
"Correct. This will be unfortunate in the long run if he is in hiding," Lefkowitz said. Paul sneered and flexed his hands. Doug tensed.