Free A Caduceus is for Killing by Diana Kirk Page B

threatened litigation."
    "Anything in writing?"
    "Not exactly. Milton had recommended it to me confidentially and, of course, I took him at his word."
    "Sure," Krastowitcz yawned and looked at his watch, four o'clock. He had to get out of here. This guy talked in circles.
    "And then there's Peter Mueller, Milton's lab assistant. He's impossible, can't get along with anyone--but Milton always protected him."
    "From what?"
    "From being fired. I would have done it, myself, many times, if it hadn't been for Milton."
    "What about Grafton's background. I understand you were classmates together?"
    "I'd just started at Case Western Reserve--"
    "Where's that?"
    "Ohio. I was doing surgical cancer research when I became involved in the medical and surgical aspects of autoimmune deficiency long before AIDS had been discovered."
    "What does that have to do with Grafton?"
    "That's how we met. Milton Grafton, the young hot-shot, was my fellow and subsequently became a close friend. Milton was the star, though, the flashy one."
    "What do you mean, flashy?"
    "He was a natural born grant writer. He managed to write grants and papers that were almost never turned down. It was as if he had an infallibility. He just couldn't fail."
    "He did this time."
    Hardwyn covered his eyes with his hands. "Oh, God."
    "Can you continue?"
    This was the first sign of emotion he'd seen from the prick. Was he human after all? Maybe Hardwyn really wasn't the bad guy he'd thought. His instincts were all mixed up, today. For some reason he'd read the guy wrong. Still. . . the hairs on the back of his neck were almost never wrong. His own personal crime detector.
    "This is hard, Sergeant. When you've known someone as long as I've known Milton, you just don't envision this type of ending."
    "Go on."
    "Let's see. . .Milton began writing small state grants. Then graduated to clinical trials financed by wealthy drug companies. By the time I recruited him to Dorlynd, Milton brought millions of dollars with him. NIH money specifically designated for AIDS research. When you add the twenty-five percent overhead fees the university gets on top of his grant funds, Dorlynd became many millions of dollars richer the minute he got here."
    "How did you convince him to come to Omaha?"
    "That was hard. But, of course, Milton didn't get along with anyone at Case Western, either. So, after months of wearing him down, he got into a nasty do with a student there and decided to take me up on my offer."
    "What kind of nasty do ?"
    "The usual. The same thing he got into here. If a student doesn't like the grade a professor gives him, he'll move heaven and earth to get that grade changed. Milton wouldn't change a grade for anyone, not even his own mother."
    "Sounds like a swell guy."
    "Don't get me wrong, Sergeant. Milton had his faults; but he was a brilliant scientist. One of the brightest stars working on the AIDS problem. I don't know who will carry on his work."
    Krastowitcz's stomach burned. Too much coffee mixed with unpleasant people made for an upset belly. He needed some Maalox or Rolaids. He needed to get out of here.
    "That about does it. Except for one thing--"
    "What's that, Sergeant?"
    "Were you aware of any homosexual involvement by Dr. Grafton?"
    "What?" Hardwyn shot out of his chair. "Certainly not. Why do you ask?"
    "From certain mutilations, our medical examiner has suggested there might be a possible connection to some sort of homosexual involvement. You seemed to have known him the longest and yet you knew of nothing?"
    "I-I was a colleague, er, friend, not intimately associated with--Frankly, Sergeant, I'm shocked."
    Krastowitcz stared at him. Why would a physician be so shocked? Especially an AIDS researcher. There was more to