Even the Wind: A Jonas Brant Thriller (46 page)

 
``It hit me almost immediately,’’ she said.

 
She called up a pdf file, an academic paper with a title too long for the top of the document. A second file appeared to be a screenshot too obscure for Brant to identify.
 

 
``You better sit down,’’ Mallek said, reading the perplexed look on his face.

 
``Looks a bit complicated to me,’’ Brant said.

 
``Look at this.’’

 
Her keystroke brought up a computer animation of a spinning strand of DNA. The base pairs of the molecule broke apart, only to reassemble in a different, more complicated structure.

 
``And you found this among Eichel’s things?’’ Brant asked in wonderment.
 

 
``Among his other stuff. Everything else is as you would imagine…Hiking books, trashy novels, a couple of back issues of Outside magazine. Then this. It’s molecular biology at a very high level.’’

Mallek moved her finger over the laptop’s trackpad.

 
``There’s a lot here over my head,’’ she said. ``Something on transcription, non-coding DNA, even stuff on retroviruses and gene therapy. There’s even a reference to CRISPR-Cas9. I don’t really know what to make of it. Not the kind of thing I’d expect a jock like Eichel to have stuffed away at the bottom of his sock drawer.’’

 
``No, you’re right,’’ Brant said. He’d thought the same as soon as she’d loaded the thumb drive’s contents. ``Are we any closer to deciding what he was up to?’’

 
Mallek smacked the keyboard. A screenshot of the animation appeared as if capturing reassembling base pairs in mid-flight.

 
``Eichel didn’t do this,’’ she said with finality in her voice.

 
``What kind of biology are we talking about?’’ Brant asked, unsure whether to disclose what he knew about Eichel’s relationship with Allison Carswell and the nature of her work.
 

 
``How much do you know about DNA?’’

 
``The building blocks of life? The instructions to build an organism? The double helix?’’

 
Mallek smiled. ``DNA is a double stranded polymer molecule so technically it’s two molecules with hydrogen bonds between them. If you break the polymer down, you’ve got the nucleotide or bases with a backbone. You’ve probably heard of the four bases in DNA. Adenine, cytosine, guanine and thymine. Better known as A, C, G and T. That familiar to you?’’

 
Brant nodded his head in the affirmative.
 

 
``The strands of the molecule coil around each other to form a double helix. That’s what we’re looking at.’’

 
``Can you tell what Eichel was up to?’’

 
Mallek furrowed her brows. ``I’d need more information. Storm’s knocked out the Internet. Otherwise I could compare the structure of this particular piece of DNA with a database we have back at the university. That would tell us what he was looking at with certainty.’’

 
``Want to make a guess?’’

 
Mallek tapped at the Macbook’s keyboard. The computer animation continued to spin on the screen.
 

 
``If I knew what kind of proteins this was coding for…then I might be able to get a better sense of what he was doing.’’

 
``What about the other files?’’

 
Mallek opened one of the text files. A list of the paper’s authors followed by a brief summary of the contents appeared at the top of the document.

 
``This might be a bit more helpful. Give me a minute to read through this.’’

 
She scanned the document, running her finger over the text on the screen. Several times she paused, backtracking over the words and the paragraphs.
 

 
``Looks like some kind of gene therapy if I were to guess,’’ Mallek said, her voice now betraying an abundance of uncertainty and caution.

 
``What would you do with such information?’’

 
``I’ve read some work on gene therapy. I took a tour at some of our labs last year. It had a lot of promise in the beginning but it hasn’t really lived up to the hype. A couple of patients enrolled in a few trials have died. It seems to me it’s more speculation and hope than reality at the moment.’’

 
``Sorry to be stupid, but what exactly is gene therapy?’’

 
Mallek smiled. ``That’s alright, I doubt most people would know…or have any clue what can be done with it.’’

 
She reached across the keyboard and clicked the mouse. The spinning DNA molecule broke apart.

 
``On the surface, gene therapy is really quite simple. You’ve heard of the Human Genome Project? That was an attempt to map all genes in the human body. You see if genes and their functions can be determined, then one day we can go in and turn off or change the function of that gene. Suppose your wife or daughter has an abnormal BRCA1 gene. That means there’s a very good chance she’ll get breast cancer in the future. But what if we could go in and snip out that faulty gene and replace it with a normal version, one that codes for the correct protein? BRCA1 is a tumor suppressor gene. When it works properly, tumor formation is, well, suppressed. If it’s abnormal, there’s a high chance tumors will develop because the gene doesn’t work properly to discourage growth.’’

 
``So gene therapy means swapping out one gene for another?’’ Brant asked, recalling Vanessa Singh’s reference to using electroporation to move material in and out of cells.

``Essentially, yes.’’

 
``And this material….These documents, the files and the papers. You’re saying Eichel or whoever did this was conducting research into gene therapy?’’

 
Mallek closed a file and turned from the laptop’s screen. The warm glow from the bedside table bathed her face, softening her features. ``More than research. I’d say all this material amounts to the instructions for a retrovirus. Look here.’’

 
She positioned the cursor on a pdf — a copy of an academic paper authored by a research team the previous summer at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies. Brant smiled to himself.

 
``What’s so funny?’’ Mallek asked.

 
``My mother,’’ Brant said. ``She had a lifelong fascination with Jonas Salk for some inexplicable reason. When I was born she insisted I be called Jonas. After Jonas Salk. My father wanted to name me John, after his father. I guess my mother won out in the end. I hadn’t thought about that for years. Not until I saw the top of that paper.’’

 
``Was your mother a scientist?’’ Mallek asked.

 
``No, not really. I think she may have had some ambitions early in life but the realities of being the wife of a foreign officer took over pretty quickly. I guess my name was all she could really do to remember where her passions had once been. My sister’s name is Marcellus. After the rock formation.’’

 
``That’s not a common name. Has a nice ring to it, though.’’

 
``Yes, I suppose it does,’’ Brant said, checking himself after a moment. ``What else can you tell me about this retrovirus…if that’s what it is. What would Eichel do with a retrovirus and what exactly is it?’’

 
``A retrovirus is a type of virus that can be used to insert its own DNA into a host cell. Gene therapy trials use retroviruses…well, disabled retroviruses…to carry genes into the cells of their patients.’’

 
``Any other uses?’’ Brant asked. His mind was racing now as he contemplated the implications of the work. ``And is there any other way? Something like, say, electroporation?’’

 
Mallek abruptly stopped typing and looked at Brant. ``You seem to be very well informed lieutenant. Why do you ask that?’’

 
In as much detail as he could remember, Brant told her everything, explaining the connection to Allison Carswell’s work, her murder, the link to Genepro and Sergei Volodin’s threats. When he’d finished, Mallek shot him a wry look. Her nose wrinkled as she made a face.

 
``I knew it was no coincidence you were camped out at the cabin,’’ she finally said, her voice tinged with disappointment.
 

 
``I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything earlier,’’ Brant said in his defense. ``I wanted to catch Eichel unaware. I was almost there, too.’’

 
``So he knew who you were?’’

 
Brant shook his head. ``No, I doubt it. He kept to the same routine even after I started watching him.’’

 
Mallek’s face softened as she considered his position. ``I guess I would have done the same under the circumstances.’’

 
``I can’t help but feel my presence precipitated Eichel’s murder.’’

 
``How so?’’

 
``There are no coincidences, right?’’ Now it was Brant’s turn to shoot a wry smile.
 

 
He’d considered the point all along, convinced that whoever had shot Eichel must have known who he was and why he’d come to the cabin. The pool of candidates was small, but likely not as exclusive as he’d first thought. Mallek could be ruled out. Of that he was sure.

 
``Where does that leave us, with this research I mean?’’ Brant asked.

 
``From what you’ve just told me, I doubt Eichel had much to do with this at all.’’

 
``So this was all Allison Carswell’s work? Somehow Eichel was manipulating her?’’

 
``That would be my guess,’’ Mallek said, shaking her head in agreement. ``The more I think about it, the more I realize this has nothing to do with Franz. You’d need a sophisticated knowledge of genes and chemistry to do this kind of work. Franz Eichel was not your man. Eichel knew how to manipulate people, but that was about as good as it got. No, this is the work of a scientist. This is genome editing.’’

 
``Editing? To what end?’’

 
``There’s always the possibility of bioterrorism,’’ Mallek said lightheartedly as if the thought was so outsized it was humorous. She’d been so focused on deciphering the mystery of Eichel’s apparent interest in DNA and retroviruses that she hadn’t given much thought to the use — or the misuse — of the technology.

 
``What did you say?’’ Brant asked, his voice betraying the sudden serious turn in their conversation.

 
``Well, I’ve read some reports of synthetic lab-created retroviruses being used for bioterrorism, but the level of sophistication you’d need to devise such a thing, and then replicate it without killing yourself is far higher than anything I’ve seen here.’’

 
``Are you sure about that?’’

 
Mallek smiled. ``It’s not like you can cook up a bioweapon in the kitchen. You’d need a high degree of experience, not to mention the right equipment and money. Plus, there’s the other issue of whether a retrovirus is actually the best vector for bioterrorism. They’re impractical and unpredictable. Far better to use something like anthrax or smallpox virions. If I were a bad guy, that’s what I would use.’’

 
``What about this electroporation thing?’’

 
``An earlier attempt at moving genetic material?’’ Mallek shrugged. ``Maybe it didn’t work out and they dropped it in favor of using a retrovirus.’’

 
``You mentioned something called CRISPR-Cas9. I’ve seen that before,’’ Brant said, trying to recall where he’d come across the reference. Then it hit him. The links to the patent application and the article he’d found on Carswell’s computer in Boston.
 

 
``CRISPR is all the rage at the moment in biology,’’ Mallek said. ``Ever since four different research teams reported they could use the technique to target and eliminate specific DNA sequences. It’s already used to delete, add, activate or suppress targeted genes in human cells, mice, rats, zebrafish…even bacteria.’’

 
``What about Cas9. What is that?’’

 
Mallek smiled. ``We’re really getting into the weeds. Cas9 is a protein used with CRISPR to cut DNA in a very exact spot. Where have you seen this before?’’

 
``On Carswell’s computer. She’d saved a document with links to a patent application and an article on CRISPR-Cas9. Do you think she was working with it to move genes or edit DNA?’’

 
``It’s possible,’’ Mallek said. ``The big concern with CRISPR is that it’s so accessible. It makes the study of individual genes much faster. You’d be able to easily change multiple genes in cells at once to study their interaction.’’

 
Brant squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. ``Okay, assuming you WERE a bad guy and you intended to experiment with some kind of retrovirus or this CRISPR-Cas9 or maybe a variant. Something she’d cooked up herself. What would you need?’’

 
``You’d need a lab.’’

 
``As in a chemistry lab?’’

 
Mallek nodded. ``Something like that. Much of the biological design has already been done on the computer. This Volodin person you spoke about, this is what he wants. He wants the designs and techniques outlined in Carswell’s papers to move and edit genes. To move to the next stage…if I were a bad guy…we’d be talking about a wet lab. Something where this stuff can be manufactured.’’

 
``Doesn’t sound like something you can do at the local university.’’

 
Mallek puffed out her cheeks and exhaled to punctuate the point. ``No, you’d need to be outside prying eyes. You’d need breathing space.’’