Final Venture

by Michael Ridpath

  'Yes. When I was fired from Boston Peptides there didn't seem much point any more.'

  I wanted to ask her again why she had been so stupid as to take an untested drug herself. But I didn't. I stayed quiet.

  She put her head in her hands. 'That explains a lot. No wonder I felt so bad. Why didn't I realize that was what was happening?'

  'There was a lot else going on,' I said.

  'I guess you're right,' Lisa was shaking her head. 'How stupid! I mean, I was keeping a diary of how I felt, recording the tiniest change in my bowel movements. And there was I, feeling more miserable than I've ever felt in my life, and I didn't even notice it.'

  'You weren't exactly in a position to think clearly.'

  'I guess I wasn't.'

  'And now you've stopped taking it. Maybe that's why you feel better now?'

  She looked up thoughtfully. 'Maybe.'

  'Now can I tell you why I didn't kill your father?' I said quietly.

  'Simon, I said – '

  'I have a right to tell you. Just once. All you need to do is listen, and then you can go back to Eddie and your job at Stanford.'

  She took a deep breath. 'OK.'

  'Three people have been murdered in the last couple of months: your father, John Chalfont and Dr Catarro. The one thing that links all three is BioOne.'

  'You said Dr Catarro died in a car accident,' Lisa interrupted.

  'Yes. But it could have been faked.'

  'Could have been?'

  I fought to maintain my patience. 'Yes. Dr Catarro discovered that too many of his patients were dying after taking neuroxil-5. He was going to make a big fuss about it. He mentioned this to your father at a dinner party. Your father made his own inquiries. He asked Art amongst others about the drug. Knowing Frank, he would have been quick to reveal his suspicions as soon as he knew them. So someone killed both of them.'

  Lisa was listening quietly now.

  'Then John discovered something suspicious about BioOne, which he wanted to tell me about. So he was murdered. And when I was getting closer to what has happened, they tried to shoot me.'

  'Shoot you?' Lisa exclaimed.

  'Yes. Outside our apartment.'

  'Oh, my God!' She put her hand over her mouth. 'Why would anyone do that?'

  'If neuroxil-5 fails to get FDA approval, BioOne will be worthless. That will be very bad for a lot of people. There's Enever and Jerry Peterson. And the company means everything to Art. He's been looking more and more unstable since all this started.'

  I watched Lisa. She was listening closely. 'But what about the gun I found in our closet, Simon?'

  'I don't know about that,' I said. 'Someone must have put it there.'

  'But who? How?'

  I shook my head. 'I don't know.'

  Lisa was silent for a moment. 'Eddie's sure you did it.'

  'I know. But what about John? And Dr Catarro? Why would I kill them? And why would I try to get myself shot?'

  'I don't know.'

  We were coming to the reason I had flown all this way. To the moment when I would know whether everything I had been doing over the last month had been worthwhile.

  'I have one more question, and then you can go away and never see me again if you want,' I began. 'I can see how when you were so upset about your father and you were taking that drug you might have thought all kinds of things. But now, here, I want to know.' I took a deep breath. 'Do you think I murdered your father?'

  Lisa looked down at the Formica table, and the debris of her burger. She fidgeted with a paper napkin.

  'Lisa?'

  'I don't . . .' she mumbled.

  'Lisa. Look at me. Answer me. And then you can go.'

  She looked up. A small nervous smile touched her lips. She shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'I don't think you killed him.'

  I couldn't believe it! I was so happy, I wanted to leap into the air and shout. But I controlled myself. I knew I still had a long way to go.

  I looked at her empty plate. 'A hamburger?' I asked. 'I thought you never ate that kind of stuff.'

  'It's my craving,' Lisa said. 'You'd have thought it could have been something truly delicious like double chocolate chip ice cream. But it's burgers and fries.'

  'How are you?' I asked. 'How's the baby?'

  Her hand fell to her stomach. I thought I could perhaps see a slight thickening of her waist, but maybe I was imagining it.

  'I'm lousy. I've been throwing up almost every morning. And in the evenings, too, sometimes.' Then she looked up and her eyes gleamed. 'I saw the baby, Simon. I had an ultrasound on Friday. It's real. It has a head and it moves and everything!'

  I wished I'd been there, but I couldn't say it.

  It had stopped raining outside. 'Come on, let's get out of here,' I said.

  We left the diner and walked. I wasn't quite sure where we were, and I didn't care where we went.

  'I wasn't going to come,' Lisa said. 'I took your letter out of the trash can, like you knew I would. Then I dialled into Net Cop's network. I was up all night working through those files. I realized there was definitely something wrong with neuroxil-5 after all. But I still couldn't face seeing you. I told Eddie I wouldn't go. And then ten o'clock passed, and I felt worse and worse. But in the end, after what had happened to Aunt Zoë and everything you'd done to get the information, I knew I had to see you,' she said. 'And you were still there!'

  I reached for her hand and squeezed it. 'Only just.'

  We walked through puddles, weaving our way past other pedestrians. Above us, blue sky was ripping through the black clouds. Isolated streams of sunshine illuminated the newly watered Victorian buildings of the Haight, giving the faded hippiedom of the shops and cafés a new glister.

  'What have you been doing?' she asked.

  I told her. I talked long and hard, about Revere, BioOne, Art, Gil, Craig, getting shot at, her. All the thoughts that had been rushing round my head over the previous week burst out in a torrent, as though a dam had been breached. Lisa was the only person in the world I had ever been able to tell everything to: it felt so good to talk to her again.

  We entered Golden Gate Park. I assumed Lisa had steered us there, I had paid no attention to where we were going. We walked across to the Japanese Tea Garden, where Lisa had taken me on our first trip to San Francisco together. Because of the rain, it was virtually empty. We sat on a bench next to a miniature bridge over a tiny stream. The sun had emerged now, as the black clouds scurried over the Bay somewhere to the east. Water glistened on the moss-covered stones and lush green foliage, and gurgled through the stream beside us. I put my arm round her and pulled her close.

  'I'm sorry, Simon,' she said. 'Am I forgiven?'

  'Of course.'

  'Can I come back?'

  My heart leapt. I kissed her.

  We took a taxi back to my hotel. We fell on each other, fulfilling each other's need, expressing with our bodies what we couldn't say in words. Joy, tenderness, fear, love, loneliness. Afterwards, as she lay softly in my arms, I didn't want to move, never wanted to leave this drab hotel room, this nondescript queen-size bed, and Lisa. Here was the woman I loved. Outside was all that had driven us apart.

  Lisa sniffed. I looked down and saw a tear running down her face.

  'What's wrong?'

  'I was just thinking about Zoë,' she said.

  'I know. It's very sad.' I squeezed her.

  'I was really fond of her, you know.'

  'I know.'

  She lay quietly for a few moments, and then dabbed her eyes with the sheet. 'It was horrible without you, Simon.'

  'It was awful for me too.'

  'It wasn't that I'd left you. It was that I thought you'd changed. Become someone else. Or, even worse, that you never were the man I thought you were. The man I loved. You haven't changed, have you Simon?'

  'No,' I said, stroking her hair.

  'I'd lost Dad like that too. And he turned out to be a different man than I thought he was.'

/>   'No, Lisa, that's not true.'

  Her eyes flicked up at me in surprise.

  'Your father always loved you,' I continued. 'That was always genuine. He had one secret he kept from you, but he kept it from himself also. And it had nothing to do with you. He never regretted being your father, you know that. Don't think of him as someone different. He would have hated it.'

  A smile spread across her thin face. She kissed me on the cheek and nestled into my chest.

  'I'm sorry, Simon. I must have been very difficult.'

  'You were having a very hard time.'

  Lisa sighed. 'You know what the worst thing about taking BP 56 is?'

  'What?'

  'I'm pregnant.'

  'You don't think . . .'

  'I don't know. In theory it should have no effect at all. But you can never tell with new drugs. I'm scared.'

  So was I. After all this, I prayed that the baby would be all right.

  'Was the ultrasound OK?'

  'So far. I'm going to have all the tests I can. I'm sorry, Simon.'

  I held her tight. She lay there in my arms for a long time.

  There were two people to see before we headed out for the airport that evening. Lisa's mother was overjoyed. She kissed us both and wished us luck. She pleaded with us to keep our date for Thanksgiving and the only way we could extricate ourselves was by consenting.

  Eddie was more difficult. I waited outside his building. Half an hour passed before Lisa came out.

  'How did it go?' I asked, as we waited for a cab to appear.

  She was silent for a bit. 'I'm lucky, Simon. I've got you, although sometimes I'm too stupid to realize it. Eddie doesn't have anyone.'

  'You feel bad about leaving him?'

  'Dad's death has torn him up.'

  I looked her in the eye. 'Lisa. I don't want to force you to choose between your brother and me. When we've sorted this out, go back and stay with him for a while. I don't want to be his enemy.'

  She glanced up at me and smiled. 'Thanks. Now, let's go.'

  33

  They were all there in the large conference room: Gil, Art, Diane, Ravi and Daniel from Revere, and Enever and Jerry Peterson from BioOne. Gardner Phillips had called everyone to his offices first thing on Monday morning at my request. He was also there, of course, together with one of his associates, an earnest-looking woman with pen and yellow legal pad poised.

  He stood up, shook my hand, and indicated that we should take our seats at the head of the long table. He sat on my right. Although I still didn't know him very well, I trusted him. At that moment I needed a good lawyer, and I was thankful to Gil for getting me one.

  'Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen. I think you all know my clients Simon Ayot and his wife, Lisa Cook. They have some information about BioOne that they would like to share with you. Simon.'

  I smiled at the assembled group. Diane nodded and returned my smile, Ravi looked vague, Daniel fascinated, and the others all glowered. Gil stared at me through his thick lenses, his forehead pulled down in deep furrows over his eyebrows. Enever looked furious. Not exactly an eager audience.

  'I have bad news,' I began. 'Lisa and I have uncovered evidence that BioOne's drug neuroxil-5 is dangerous to human life.'

  There was a stir around the room. 'Prove it,' demanded Enever.

  'We will,' I said, nodding to him. Then I told them the whole story. About Lisa's concerns about neuroxil-5, about John's message to me before he died, and about my own investigations at the clinics involved in the trial. I then said that Lisa had been able to get hold of more complete data that had confirmed her initial suspicions.

  Enever was quick with the counter-attack. 'What data?' he shot at Lisa.

  'I can't be specific,' she replied. Gardner Phillips had warned us to stay well clear of how we had got hold of the information. 'But I can assure you there can be no question as to the conclusions.'

  Enever snorted. 'That's absurd. Your "conclusions" are all unsubstantiated. They have no validity at all. Let's all stop wasting time and get back to work.'

  'Don't you have any concerns about the incidence of strokes in patients who have been taking neuroxil-5 for more than six months?' Lisa asked.

  'No, of course not,' Enever replied.

  'Do you deny that you attempted to get clinicians to reclassify patients who suffered strokes as non-Alzheimer's patients?'

  'No. Where appropriate. It's easy to misdiagnose mini strokes as Alzheimer's.'

  'What about Dr Catarro? He was concerned, wasn't he? And his two patients who died of strokes were shown to have Alzheimer's at their autopsies, weren't they?'

  'Possibly. But these are elderly people. Two of them dying of a stroke is no more than a statistical blip. He was just being difficult.'

  'It was convenient he had his accident, then, wasn't it?'

  'Too right,' muttered Enever. Then, as eyebrows were raised round the table, he continued. 'Look, of course I'm sorry the guy died. But he was a fool, all right?'

  Enever's insensitivity was playing into our hands with the people gathered round the table. But he hadn't admitted anything yet.

  'Will you make your data available for an independent consultant to analyse?' I asked Enever.

  'Absolutely not,' he said. 'This is commercially sensitive information of a highly confidential nature. Anyway, the FDA sees all the adverse event reports.'

  'But in a population of elderly people like this one, the abnormally high incidence of strokes wouldn't necessarily leap out at them, would it?' Lisa said. 'Not until they analyse all the data at the end of the trial?'

  Enever glared at her.

  Gil spoke for the first time. 'Where did you get this data from, Lisa?'

  'I can't say,' she said.

  'Pure fabrication!' spluttered Enever.

  Gil looked at both of us. 'You realize how serious these allegations are? If they are true, then neuroxil-5 will be withdrawn. BioOne's stock price would collapse immediately. The results would be catastrophic for all of us.'

  'I know,' I said. 'I wish BioOne was a success. But it isn't. And the sooner we face up to that fact, the better.'

  Jerry Peterson was watching me, not convinced I was telling the truth, but not convinced I was lying, either. 'Thomas, can't we analyse the data on Phase Three in-house?' he asked.

  Enever shook his head. 'We'd have to unblind the data. The regulators hate that. Not only that, it would delay completion of the trial. Don't forget Werner Wilson is expecting results in March.'

  Jerry Peterson remembered. He kept quiet.

  'Every day this trial continues there's a chance that another one of the thousand or so patients will have a stroke,' I said. 'You can't hide from that.'

  'Bullshit,' muttered Enever.

  'You son-of-a-bitch, Ayot.' It was Art. He looked edgy. Sober, but edgy. 'You've always had it in for BioOne, just like Frank. You're jealous, that's all. But that's a damn stupid reason for destroying this firm's best investment.'

  'Hold on, Art.' It was Gil. 'From what I've heard, there is a chance that people will die unless we act now to stop the trial until the data can be analysed independently. We can't gamble with other people's lives.'

  'There's no evidence!' Enever interrupted. 'We're relying entirely on what these people say.' He jabbed a finger at Lisa. 'I fired her. She's just trying to get her own back.'

  Gil threw me a sideways glance, but then continued. 'I've known Simon for a couple of years, Dr Enever. And Lisa is the daughter of a good friend of mine. While they might be making all this up, I'd say there's also a good chance they're telling the truth. Right now, we don't know. So what I suggest is that Dr Enever gives all the information he has to Ravi to look at. If Simon and Lisa's conclusions are found to be accurate, we will have to stop the trial. And I mean all the information, Dr Enever.'

  'That's absurd,' Enever protested.

  'Either that, or we stop the trial immediately.'

  There was silence round the t
able, as the consequences of these words sunk in.

  'Ravi?' Gil looked at him for his reaction.

  'I won't know whether I will be able to draw any conclusions until I know what data is available. But safety is the most important issue in developing any new drug,' he said. 'From what Simon and Lisa say, there must be real doubts. We have to address those right away.'

  'Diane? Do you agree?'

  She nodded.

  Gil took a deep breath. 'Art?'

  'No way!' Art almost shouted. 'This will destroy the stock price. It will destroy BioOne. Hell, it will destroy Revere. You can't do it, Gil.'

  Some of the weariness had left Gil's face. He sat up straighter, more determined. He knew what he was doing. It was as if, now that he was face-to-face with a difficult decision, he could summon the courage to go through with it, no matter what the consequences were.

  'Jerry?'

  Jerry Peterson's fresh face looked at Enever, who was scowling deeply, and Art, who looked as if he were about to leap from his chair and throw it at someone. Then he shrugged, and gave a small smile, as if to say 'easy come, easy go'.

  'I want you to give all the information we have on neuroxil-5 to Ravi by tomorrow, Thomas,' he said.

  'Thank you,' said Gil. 'I needn't remind you that what we have been discussing this morning is highly price-sensitive information. Anyone selling stock would be inviting investigation from the SEC.'

  Enever sat there fuming. Art didn't look much happier. Everyone else let the consequences of the decision that had just been taken sink in. If I was right, it wasn't good for any of them.

  'That still leaves one other important question,' I said.

  They looked at me with expressions that ranged between dazed and furious.

  'Someone killed Frank. And someone killed John. And someone probably killed Dr Catarro.' I paused, to let what I was saying have its effect. 'They were murdered because they discovered what I now know about BioOne. Now, the people who would lose most from neuroxil-5 being discredited are all in this room.'

  Enever looked up. 'That's absurd,' he said. 'You don't think I killed them, do you? Why would I do that? There's nothing to hide. Neuroxil-5 is a perfectly safe drug.'

  I glanced at Art. He glared back. 'Asshole,' he muttered.