Page 17 of So Lethal

Dr. Crane released a single cough of laughter. “No, they didn’t. Even if they did, it wouldn’t matter. They signed the waivers. A medical trial is exactly what it sounds like: a trial. We test things to see if they work or they don’t work. That treatment only worked on thirteen of twenty-one patients in the trial. We took it back to the drawing board and eventually concluded it wasn’t worth our time to try to make it work for more people. We’re pursuing surgical alternatives now.”

“I’m sure you’re legally protected, Dr. Crane,” Faith replied. “Still, considering your reputation, I can’t imagine you’re pleased when people threaten to soil it.”

He frowned. “My reputation?”

“Your board certification was suspended at one time, wasn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed, and his hands closed. Turk noticed the fists and gave him a warning growl. He glanced at Turk, confused, then realized what his hands were doing and relaxed them.

“Yes,” he admitted. “It was suspended for a period of one year five years ago because the Board didn’t believe I had been rigorous enough in my research and had proceeded to human trials too quickly. I accepted their judgment and altered my approach. The trial in which Miss Smith and Mr. Porter participated didn’t suffer from the same issues. In any case, why are you jumping right to murder? What could it possibly gain me to kill them?”

“A very rational question,” Michael replied. “Only when you’re really pissed off, it’s hard to think rationally.”

Dr. Crane rolled his eyes. “Okay, well, I didn’t kill them. I didn’t even know who they were until you told me they were both at the trial four months ago.”

Turk growled again, baring his teeth slightly.

“Okay, does your dog have a problem?” Dr. Crane asked irritably. “Is he going to bite me or something?”

“You play nice, and he’ll play nice,” Faith replied.

“Well, I’m playing nice, and he’s looking at me like he can’t wait to eat me.”

Faith crossed her arms. “You’re replying to our questions with hostility. He notices that. So do I. I’d very much like to know why.”

“Because…” He pressed his lips together and tapped his heels again. “You’re accusing me of murder!”

“We haven’t accused you of anything,” Michael said. “You jumped right to accusation. For all you knew, we could have just wanted to know if they mentioned anything to you that suggested someone else was after them.”

“Oh please,” Dr. Crane scoffed. “You’re here now? Four months later? There’s no chance I’m among the last people to see them alive, and as for knowing anything about them besides their medical records? Guess what? I saw them four times in two weeks. Medical trials are handled by nurses and PAs. The MDs show up at the beginning and then during occasional checkups. I wasn’t their friend. But you know that. So you’re not here looking for information. You’re here because I happen to be a common connection between two deaf people who were murdered, both of whom had a poor interaction with me. Not even with me, just associated with me. But you get my point. No way you don’t suspect me.”

Faith thought for a moment and decided to be blunt. They weren’t getting anywhere being coy. “Yes, Dr. Crane. We suspect that you might have killed Monica Smith and James Porter. Further, we suspect that you might be planning to kill the others who exhibited dissatisfaction with your trial.”

"Oh, for God's sake," he said, getting to his feet. "That's so stupid. I won. I still have my license, my certification, and my funding. I still have my medical practice, and I'm still conducting research trials into the effectiveness of different treatments for hearing loss. A few people whining that their specific trial wasn’t a medical miracle isn’t going to ruin my life. You know what will ruin my life? Murdering people.”

“So you can tell us where you were last night and Saturday night?” Michael asked.

“I was home. No, no one can corroborate that story. No, I don’t have security cameras that could show my face. I was home like a normal person who doesn’t think he needs to create an alibi for murder. But you have nothing on me. You have old history with the Board of Audiology and a one-sided spat with two trial participants from months ago. Do some detective work. Find some real evidence. Stop wasting my time.”

He spun on his heel and started back toward the building. Turk growled again, and Faith patted his shoulder. “Easy boy.”

The agents watched the doctor throw the door open and storm back into the building. When he turned the corner out of sight, they got to their feet and headed back to their car.

“Well, that was interesting,” Michael said.

Faith frowned. “He’s not wrong. Our evidence is pretty thin on the ground right now.”

“I think we should take his advice,” Michael replied. “I think we should find some real evidence.”

Something in his voice caused Faith to raise a questioning eyebrow.

“I think he did it,” Michael clarified. “I think he’s grandstanding because he’s scared. I think if we put some elbow grease into looking into him, we’ll find the evidence we need to pin him.”

“You don’t think we’re jumping to a conclusion?”

“No, I think we’re following a lead, and after our conversation with him, I think that lead delivers us right to the doorstep of one Dr. Thomas Crane.”

Turk snorted approvingly. Faith wasn’t as certain as they were, but she did have to admit that his behavior was rather suspicious.

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