by JJ Lamb
He continued scanning through the unit’s charts, then scrolled through all the records, searching for the final questionnaires and documentation for the study. They weren’t in the computer.
Why?
During his and Gina’s interview and orientation with Ethan, the administrator only talked about the patients as having been active participants in the Zelint Pharmaceutical Study of AZ-1166. And they were here now for medical treatment.
The hairs on Harry’s neck did that weird bristling thing, and a sudden chill raised goose bumps on his arms. He could feel Pete watching him.
Again.
The orderly seemed to make it his business to check out whatever Harry was studying on the monitor.
The back of his Harry’s head was burning. The guy was definitely spying on him.
Why?
“Something you need, Pete?” Harry did a fast swing around, stared into the orderly’s eyes.
Pete shook his head and moved to the other end of the nurses’ station.
Not far enough, jerk.
Harry scrolled through the patient census and again clicked on Rhonda Jenkins’s chart.
He brought up the different screens of her medical record. There was nothing currently new charted about Phase III of the AZ-1166 study. But her complete history referred to having been on the test drug, with excellent results. Her dementia had gone into total remission within six months. He read further into her detailed history.
She’d been a marketing CEO for the majority of her working years. Late in life she changed careers and became a medical assistant who specialized in assisting vascular surgeons with office surgeries and treatments. Two years ago she started having acuity problems and retired. It was then she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. A close friend told her about an ad she’d seen—a new clinical study that was seeking subjects with a dementia diagnosis. Rhonda could become a part of the new study, if she qualified.
Rhonda qualified.
The chart carefully documented her initial physical exam—a healthy seventy-five-year-old woman, with mild arthritis and the usual age-related problems. Nothing with severe pathology that would interfere with receiving the experimental drug.
He skipped to the final entry of that exam.
The patient was provided a packet of information that included informed consent and a list of expected positive results, along with a separate list of potential side effects. Rhonda Jenkins received a full explanation of the goals for the experimental drug designated AZ-1166. She and a first cousin signed the papers.
Harry skimmed through the listed potential side effects: nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, headaches, dizziness, insomnia, problems with balance, It went on and on, listing only relatively minor negative symptoms.
Nothing here about the bad shit.
This wasn’t the usual multi-page document that covers everything from an ingrown toenail to spontaneous combustion.
It certainly doesn’t cover the acceleration of age-related diseases. Did they deliberately hide that info from the patients?
Throughout the study, Rhonda had no significant side effects, at least none that were noted in her chart.
Mmmmm! The Rhonda Jenkins on this unit is almost totally blind and her arthritis is very severe. Why isn’t that mentioned here?
He again went quickly through her most recent physical examination. Nothing! Absolutely nothing in the study chart noting that she had become virtually blind or that she had crippling arthritis.
Harry leaned back in his chair, tried to be measured and objective. Gina was usually the suspicious one. She always said she didn’t go looking for trouble, it just landed in her lap. With her New York background, she usually mistrusted people right off the bat. She never took anyone at face value.
Hell, the truth is, Gina always sees the dark side of people. And too often she’s right.
He was glad he’d grown up in California, but it hadn’t been a bed of roses for him either. He’d done a short stint in juvie before he wised up. But he knew Gina’s experiences were even worse. Being a female was definitely not a plus.
He thought about what it must have been like for her growing up on the Bronx streets—gang threats, beatings, constantly living in fear of being raped … or murdered.
She should have been treated like someone special; instead, she’d been forced to grow like a raggedy weed, fighting its way back to life every day.
* * *
Harry stepped into Rhonda Jenkins’s room. She immediately snapped to attention.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Rhonda.”
“Oh, Harry. I haven’t gotten used to your sounds yet.”
“You will soon enough.”
He moved to her side and took her hand. Her gray hair was long enough to be neatly pushed behind her ears, and she’d managed to put on lipstick without smudging it. He recognized the scent she was wearing. Gina had recently started wearing it, too—Chanel No. 5.
Rhonda was seated in a chair next to the window. He knew she could still see some light coming in, but he would appear only as a shadowy figure.
“Too bad I won’t get to know you better, Harry. We’ve barely met, but I like what I see … so to speak.”
Harry chuckled.
“Dr. Dayton said they’re going to release me in the next few days. I’m kind of excited. He suggested I call my friend to take me home, but not until he lets me know the exact date. I don’t want her to come all the way from Texas and just hang around waiting for me to get out of here.” She turned away. “I won’t tell her about my eyes. She might not come … might not want to play seeing-eye-dog. Pretty selfish of me, I suppose.”
“She might surprise you. Besides, you seem to get around really well.”
“You mean for a mole.”
“Nothing wrong with being a mole.” Harry hesitated, then said, “Have you always had impaired vision, Rhonda?”
Her smile drooped. “No, I developed thick cataracts in both eyes within six months of taking the test drug. Still, it was worth it to be able to think clearly again. But the loss of vision happened so quickly … almost in the blink of an eye.” Rhonda laughed weakly.
“Do you plan on having the cataracts removed?”
“When I’m back home, I’m hoping to have that done. Mind you, no one’s saying it will be successful. I guess there’s a lot of damage … they think it’s some kind of response from taking the drug. That’s what Dr. Dayton said. At least the costs won’t be a problem. The study and Medicare will take care of everything.”
Harry pulled up a chair next to her. “Still, it’s gotta be hard on you.”
“It is.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. Harry snagged a tissue from the box on the table next to the bed. He gently dabbed her cheek.
She pressed her hand against his. “You seem like a very kind man, Harry. I’m glad we met. I would have liked to have spent more time with you.”
“You’ll be happier going back to your own home.”
“That’s true. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“I see from your chart that you worked not only in the business world, but in the medical field, too. I would have loved to hear about your experiences.”
“It was hard work,” Rhonda said, “but I loved working with the doctors … the patients. You learn a lot about people when they’re sick or suffering.”
“That’s true,” Harry said. “It’s a humbling experience to lose your health.”
Rhonda looked toward the window again. Her face had turned very pale. “If you don’t mind, Harry, I think I’m going to sit here and close my eyes for a while and try not to think about anything.”
Harry stood. “I hope I haven’t upset you, Rhonda … you seemed happy until I dropped in to bug you.”
She waved her hand at him. “No, no. It’s not you. It’s me. I tend to look at things on the dark side.”
Harry laughed. “You sound like my fiancée.”
“
If she’s your fiancée, I’m sure I would enjoy meeting her.”
“I think you would. Maybe I’ll bring her down to say hello to you before you leave.”
“I would like that.”
Rhonda reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a black Revlon tube and freshened her lipstick. He could tell she wanted to say something else. She slowly put the lipstick back in her pocket, pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.
“You know, Harry,” she said in a quavering voice, her eyes dull, unresponsive, staring at nothing in particular, “I can’t help but think how quickly it all passes. One day your whole life is in front of you, just around the corner. The next, you’re crossing a bridge to nowhere.”
Chapter 16
David Zelint stared at the letter informing him that the FDA was postponing its hearing for the AZ-1166 study—for the third time. Fiery acid started working its way up into his throat. The news threw him into a deep depression.
What's the hold up, damn it?
Would the study now be lost in a bureaucratic eddy of paperwork and delays? Would all their investment monies disappear and leave them penniless?
The FDA, of all people, must know the importance of this study … what it could mean to the world. For Christ’s sake; we have a drug that can cure Alzheimer’s. It’s the start of a new era in medicine!
As if this FDA business wasn’t enough, Ethan Dayton and his Nevada operation were turning into a real problem.
For two years Zelint had managed to stay clear of industrial espionage by simply toning down its publicity efforts. The study wasn’t hidden, it wasn’t a secret, but releases about it had been kept low-key to try to keep other pharmaceutical houses at bay— to keep them from trying to steal the formula for AZ-1166.
Zelint had been lucky so far.
Now Ethan had raised the ugly specter of OCI involvement. What if the investigative arm of the FDA started digging into their operation? What would happen to AZ-1166 if he were to actually be accused of health fraud? Was that the reason final FDA approval was being delayed? Were they getting ready to impound their records, nail the company?
A sudden chill shook him hard. He knew it had nothing to do with the weather in Reno—Northern Nevada was having a beautiful autumn.
I have only myself to blame.
If his twin brother Saul found out what was really going on, he would hate David. The man was an unrepentant idealist, and that made it hard to move ahead with any plan. David knew they had to make money.
Sink or swim.
Why did Saul always have to have that moralistic, good guy approach to everything? If he wasn’t so noble, if he would get down in the dirt with everyone else, it wouldn’t be necessary to keep him out of the loop.
And maybe I wouldn’t feel so damn guilty.
David hadn’t taken the chance that his brother would say no to what had to be done. And they’d had to move fast. The company was already too deep into the early studies to turn back.
I did what I had to do. Too much at stake to take a chance on Saul.
If Zelint was found guilty of criminal activity, Saul, as a partner would go down, too. He and his brother were not only born together in a single breath, they were pretty much joined at the hip. They would both go to jail.
He covered his eyes and rocked back and forth. When he could think again, he glanced at the pictures of his brother’s family on the back wall. His niece and nephew adored David and the thought of not having them in his life was unbearable. They were all that he had … other than his work.
And if anything goes wrong, Saul will never speak to me again.
His baby brother—a joke between the two of them because David entered the world first—would never smile at him in that special way again, and David would lose the one person who made life worth living.
He picked at a nail, looked at his brother’s picture. Even after all these years, it was still strange to have another person with your face, staring back at you. But the two of them seemed to verify all the twin studies ever undertaken. It wasn’t only the face; at fifty-five both of them still had a full head of hair.
Yeah, and a gut that I wish wasn’t there.
He patted his middle and laughed for the first time that day.
Too much deli!
There was really nothing special about the looks of either one of them. You wouldn’t give either a second glance. But Saul’s wife adored the man, and when she looked at his brother, there was only love in her eyes. And both of their kids were wonderful.
David wasn’t jealous; he’d been in the thick of things when he younger—had a great social life, spent his days with many women, some really fantastic. But he never clicked with any one woman. Not like Saul.
Why am I thinking about this now? No time for that. And damn Ethan for even mentioning OCI. Now I can’t get it out of my head.
He tried to quiet himself, look at things logically. If OCI came barging in, what would they find? There would be nothing in the Zelint facility or the factory where AZ-1166 was made—nothing suspicious at all for investigators to find.
And what would the computers reveal?
Nothing.
He never fully trusted computers. It seemed like the whole planet was swimming in too much technology. Besides, it was very easy for any device to be hacked and its contents revealed to the wrong people.
No, he didn’t worry about his computer; there was nothing in there to worry about. He looked across the room at his office safe. There was the weak point; the only place within Zelint where the step-by-step details of every action taken, every nuance of the AZ-1166 study, could be found. That weakness needed to be taken care of. Immediately, if not sooner.
Either a bonfire or a safe deposit box.
* * *
Ethan Dayton was still fuming.
He’d called David Zelint so the CEO would be up to date, know everything, know every single detail that Ethan knew.
That was the agreement.
That’s the kind of relationship he was promised—the two of them would have each other’s back, at all times. They would be full partners, working for the good of the study and its outcome. David would be the front man. Ethan would handle the dirty work.
The man sits in his secure office and has the nerve to brush me off. Leave me holding the bag.
Things were starting to feel out of control, something medical examiners didn’t tolerate at all well. Cutting up a corpse, weighing, collecting, classifying organs was an emotionless, methodical, scientific procedure. The only thing that ever got in the way was the administrative process and Ethan had come to like doing things his way. He was beginning to see David in that administrative interference category, but with an important twist.
Remember, Mr. Zelint, I know everything. Everything! Before you talk to me like I’m a fool, or an underling, you’d better reexamine our partnership. That’s right ... partnership!
Ethan’s job in the Comstock Medical Facility was the dangerous one. David sat in his plush office building and deluded himself into thinking his hands were clean.
He’d better remember that he’s the reason I’m here. You brought me here, David. Don’t forget that.
He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out an expensive, four-color brochure about Zelint Pharmaceutical. He toyed with each page, remembered how he’d applied for the position after seeing an ad in one of the medical journals. At the time, he’d looked at so many medical Help Wanted ads that he now couldn’t remember exactly which publication he’d found the Zelint notice.
When he’d first met the head of the pharmaceutical company, the interview began with the usual dog and pony show. David Zelint started with the history of the fairly new company, provided all the details about its heavy investment in biologics from the rain forests in South America. Zelint’s research into these substances had in the early stages produced a promising breast cancer drug, and now, their real winner: AZ-1166.
; “This study, this new drug, will be an explosion in the field of cognitive neurology. Geriatric medical practices will be changed forever,” David Zelint had said.
Ethan was excited. He saw it as a great fit for him.
But when he asked about the previous doctor who’d run the Nevada facility, David was not only evasive, he changed the subject all together.
Ethan couldn’t turn down the opportunity, though. Not only would he get away from Southern California hospitals, he would be far away from his ex-wife, who didn’t seem to understand that divorced meant finished, over!
Still, after slightly more than a year at Comstock, with the study in its closing phase and about to be up for review by the FDA, David Zelint was getting more and more difficult to deal with.
Even though Ethan knew the up-front numbers appeared outstanding and Zelint was more than ready to provide the chief paper evidence of its safety and effectiveness, they were now into the tricky part of the operation, the part that would determine whether the drug would move into the next phase. And although AZ-1166 would continue to be monitored for its long-term safety and effectiveness, Phase IV would put the drug into the market … and the money would begin to roll into the company. And into Ethan’s pockets.
They could take care of anything when the money started rolling in. Ethan had tried, but he couldn’t even imagine that much money. He had a huge number of shares in Zelint and as a principal holder in the company; he would never have to work again. He needed that so he could proceed with his own scientific investigations. Now it was Alzheimer’s. Who could know what new projects he might become involved with in the future?
He had to drag his thoughts away from all of that and get back to the problem at hand.
Can I trust these new nurses?
Were they working undercover for the OCI? Was Ethan, or Zelint, being set up by those two?
He’d always hired travel nurses for three-month stints at Comstock. He liked them coming from out of the area—short-term employees didn’t usually invest a lot of themselves into something that wasn’t permanent. They were certainly more likely to overlook irregularities.
