“The press?”

“The local papers will be there. I'm sure the Times and Wall Street Journal will send stringers. This is a big case. Time should have someone. Maybe Newsweek.”

Steinhardt's expression darkened. He shot the cuffs of his white lab coat. The coat looked like it had been custom-tailored to his small, trim frame. “What would I need to do?”

“You can start by telling me what AV/AS is about.”

“If you need me to explain that to you, I'd say you're not the man to conduct my case.”

“This isn't for me,” Seeley said. “It's for the jury. You're the one who's going to have to explain the science to the jury.”

Steinhardt considered that, and for a moment stood even more erect. He gestured to Seeley to take one of the antique upholstered chairs and took one himself. Then he checked his watch and appeared to change his mind. “I could give you the five-minute version, but I expect you will have questions. This will have to wait until I return from Paris. I promise you, it will be a brief trip.”

“If I were you, I'd cancel the trip.”

“You obviously fail to understand. I have an important paper to deliver. Not to go would be out of the question.”

Seeley had worked with scientists before, and it was a puzzle to him why anyone would spend good money to put these people on airplanes and lodge them at luxury hotels just so they can read papers to each other that they could more conveniently and at less expense read at home. Steinhardt could at least answer one question for him. “What does AV/AS stand for?”

“AV is standard nomenclature. AIDSVAX. One of the first vaccines tested-this was years ago-was AIDSVAX B/B.” Steinhardt's smug expression told Seeley he didn't have to ask what AS stood for.

“And this was entirely your work? No one else contributed to it?”

The scientist didn't flinch. “Of course it was. I have people working for me, assistants, but their work is entirely routine, on the order of cleaning test tubes. None of them does any science.”