Green Kills

by Avi Domoshevizki

  “Do you have any guesses as to what those questions might be?” Ronnie felt the conversation was finally getting on the right track.

  “I asked, but they refused to say. I assume they want to understand what risks the development process holds and how much trust I have in the product.”

  “I don’t get it” — Ronnie raised an eyebrow — “we’re already in clinical trials. I assumed the development risks were behind us and unless, God forbid, any unexpected surprises pop up, we have a complete product in our hands.”

  Christian rolled his pen between his fingers, magician-like. He performed this little trick several times, and just as Ronnie was about to repeat his question, Lumner woke up and said, “A few problems emerged during the development process about a year ago. In two separate cases, an entire production lot proved to be defective, and we couldn’t determine why. At the moment, we are unable to guarantee that mass production of each manufacturing batch will yield the exact same results, which is naturally a fact that disturbs potential investors.”

  Ronnie felt the blood draining from his face. He had never heard about the incident. Not during the fund’s staff meetings, nor from Henry’s mouth. There were no records of it in any of the files Henry had given him. “This is the first I’m hearing of this. I’d appreciate it if you’d update me with all the details. Now that I’m on the board of directors, I’m legally responsible for any complications that might arise as a result of defective medicine erroneously finding its way to the market.”

  While speaking, Ronnie began to realize the severity of the situation he’d found himself in. Until now, he could have claimed he was unaware that some of the medicine produced was defective; from this moment on, he could not ignore the malfunction that had occurred and its possible implications. The sincerity he had encouraged Lumner to demonstrate had sucked him all at once into a legal complication that could end badly unless managed correctly.

  “I assume you’d like to hear everything you can about the product,” Christian opened and when Ronnie nodded his agreement, he continued. “The blood-brain barrier, or BBB, is a permeability barrier that separates the circulating blood from the brain extracellular fluid. The purpose of the blood-brain barrier is to protect the brain tissue from infection or antibodies and to maintain the composition of the liquid that contains the neurons, in order to protect neurotransmitter activity in the body. Today, all research in the industry is concentrated on trying to find ways to ‘cheat’ the BBB system so it will allow medicine to access the brain, especially in cases of brain tumors or severe inflammation. We approached the problem from a different angle. Painkillers and anesthetics aren’t blocked by the BBB system — therefore, each anesthetic shot directly influences the brain and the functioning of the patient. At TDO, we’ve developed anesthetics and painkillers with certain ingredients that the BBB system would normally block. The medicine may have infinite uses and a vast business potential. From painkillers that will not dull the mental clarity of the user, to the ability to conduct operations during which the body will be anesthetized, but the patient will remain fully awake and able to cooperate with the surgeons. The potential annual market size is estimated in the trillions of dollars.”

  Christian paused for a moment, and when he saw Ronnie nodding in understanding, continued, “During the development stage, we produced six batches of the medication. Unfortunately, the results were not identical in each round. Fortunately, we have an excellent quality control system and discovered the problem very quickly. Once we investigated the reasons, the damaged series were destroyed in their entirety.”

  “Reasons? What do you mean?”

  “Out of six manufacturing rounds, four were perfect, in one the medicine wasn’t effective enough, and the last one showed signs of toxicity.”

  “Toxicity?”

  “There was a production malfunction, or more precisely, a human error. We’ve improved the procedures, and the deviation has not occurred since.”

  “How come there’s no mention of it in your summaries for the board of directors?” Ronnie snapped.

  “Henry insisted that any mention of the problem be removed from the summaries,” Christian answered without hesitation.

  “So how come the new investors know about it?” Ronnie wondered, a concerned look in his eyes.

  “I told them about it,” Christian answered. He had the appearance of a condemned man awaiting the guillotine’s blade to end his suffering.

  “You?”

  “I wasn’t willing to go on record and lie in the documents I sent to the various funds. I was unable to continue with Henry’s plan. You can fire me now, if you’d like.” There was a tone of defiance in his voice.

  Indeed, I stepped on a hornet’s nest when I spoke with Henry, Ronnie thought. “We need to trust each other. We’re allowed to disagree, but I need to know from now on you won’t do anything behind my back, and mutual decisions will be executed exactly as agreed upon. Can you promise me that?”

  “Yes,” Christian answered feebly.

  “A smart investor on my board of directors when I was CEO once told me that he can’t stand the feeling he constantly needs an ear-eye doctor.”

  Lumner gave Ronnie a questioning look.

  “A doctor that’ll cure the frustrating feeling that what you hear is not exactly what you see.”

  A smile settled on Christian’s face and he said, “A wise man indeed.”

  “OK, let’s move on, then. I’ll need to update Henry about our conversation.”

  “You do what you think is right, but if I were you, I wouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well…” Christian squirmed, “Now we’re running the company, not Henri. It doesn't sound to me as good practice to involve him in every single thing.”

  Ronnie decided to ignore the unconvincing answer. “OK, but answer me one more question. If it were up to you, would you continue to conduct additional tests, or do you think there is a risk toxic medication might find its way into the trials?”

  “That’s a theoretical question. It’s not up to me. I presented my recommendations to the board, and the decision that was eventually reached was to carry on. Based on all the analysis conducted so far, it was also the right decision, whether I supported it or not. Besides, if we stop the experiment now, you know we won’t be able to raise money and the company will close its doors. I’ll have wasted seven years of my life, and you’ll lose twenty-five million dollars of your capital. In a perfect world, we might have reached a different decision. In the real world however, we were forced to be pragmatic.”

  “You haven’t answered my question, Christian.”

  “Yes, I have. You may choose to ignore the answer, but I gave you my reply.”

  “If your son or daughter needed an operation tomorrow, would you approve their participation in the trials?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t sound too convinced.”

  “The answer is yes, but if you need more information, I suggest you speak with an advisor we employ. He’s a well-known authority in the industry. His name is Dr. Jörgen Zimmerhof and his offices are in New Jersey. I’ll send him an email right now, asking him to meet you as early as tomorrow. He also thinks continuing the experiments with the medication that has already been manufactured and checked many times is completely safe.”

  Utter silence now lay in the room.

  “All right. I’d love to get all paperwork involving the case.” Ronnie regained his composure.

  “I’ll see that you get everything, even though we have no official summaries,” answered Christian. When he saw the confusion on Ronnie’s face he added, “As I mentioned, that was the instruction we received from your predecessor.”

  “And Henry didn’t give you an explanation for it?”

  “You must know a different Henry than the one I’m familiar with,” said Lumner bitterly. “Henry doesn’t think any of his instructions should be explained. He expects them
to be carried out in full or else…”

  “Or else what?”

  “Will there be anything else?”

  “Or else what, Christian?”

  “You seem like a decent guy, it would be a shame for you to get into trouble after only three days in your new job and lose it. Let’s drop the subject.”

  A knock on the door made them both jump. A short man whose belly protruded through a missing button on his shirt came inside and turned to Christian, “I’m sorry for the interruption, but can I have a moment of your time?” Lumner apologized to Ronnie and exited the room.

  Ronnie remained by himself, his mind a tumble of insane thoughts. Could I have been so wrong in my understanding of the situation? Could I have been assigned to this job to serve as a scapegoat if and when the need arises?

  A short time later, the CEO returned to the room accompanied by the chubby man. Christian’s mood seemed much improved. “Meet Jim Belafonte, the company’s chief technology officer,” he announced. “He’s the man who helps me hang on to my sanity under all this pressure. Jim is the company’s most important asset. Currently, he’s taking care of the next stage of the trials: surgeries which will be conducted independently by doctors, without the participation of company personnel. According to FDA regulations, you and I need to approve the continuation of the experiment. I’ve already signed the paperwork, I’d like you to sign it as well.” He presented the documents to Ronnie, who looked at them as if they were drenched with poison.

  Ronnie was silent, allowing Jim to understand he should leave the room.

  The door closed, but Christian remained standing.

  “Sit down, please,” said Ronnie.

  Lumner sat unwillingly, and without being asked, said, “I understand your concern, but I don’t think there’s any danger here. The medicine vials that will be used in the surgeries are the last two taken from a lot already vetted in the last six rounds. The damaged batches were destroyed, and we haven’t produced a new batch. Furthermore, all the bottles have been carefully examined. Jim and I personally approved each bottle and signed its label. The only difference between the current clinical trials and the previous successful ones is that a company representative will not be present in the operating room. Anyhow, in our previous trials the doctors didn’t really need our help.”

  Ronnie took the pen. His hand hovered hesitantly above the document.

  “You have to sign; otherwise, you’ll be giving our company the kiss of death. I can’t fly to the West Coast and tell the funds that would like to invest in us that our newest board member is uncertain about the safety of the company’s flagship product so we’ve had to stop the experiments. I just can’t.” Christian looked at Ronnie pleadingly.

  “I’ve learned from experience that if you think you’re wrong — there’s a good chance you’re really wrong,” Ronnie chose his words carefully, “and I really don’t want to be wrong in this case.”

  “Neither do I. I wouldn’t sign it and risk human lives if I had even the slightest suspicion that the medicine is dangerous. Not for any fortune in the world.” The CEO suddenly seemed very determined in his recommendation.

  “OK, I trust you.” Ronnie allowed his hand to drop onto the page, and feeling coerced, added his signature next to Christian’s.

  “Thanks, Ronnie,” Christian said, sounding relieved. “Let’s go outside and take a walk in the grove behind the buildings. The rain has stopped and the air is clear. I’ll show you the Celtics’ practice arena. If they’re practicing now, it could be an interesting experience. And since you’re not interested in an official presentation, we can continue our conversation out there.”

  A serene atmosphere prevailed across the pathways that crisscrossed the tangled grove. They walked silently, the thick atmosphere that had prevailed in the conference room just moments earlier now forgotten. The place reminded Ronnie of the historic Ficus Boulevard in the Israeli kibbutz Givat Brenner; he felt a pang of yearning in his heart.

  “Perhaps I’m being paranoid,” Christian broke the silence, “but lately, I have the feeling that I’m being followed. I’ve also been receiving strange letters from someone who knows the company inside out. I don’t know if it’s industrial espionage or a frustrated employee. I’m telling you this to prove I’m counting on you. I haven’t told Henry. Not that I have any proof he’s involved, but I find it hard to trust him. The surprise on your face when you heard about the manufacturing problems we encountered convinced me you’re not involved with any related plot. Yesterday, I spoke with two people from the company you founded, and they said they would risk their lives for you. So here, I’m risking mine as well.” They continued their walk silently, approaching the Celtics’ practice arena, when suddenly, Christian whispered sharply, “Don’t turn your head, but I’ve seen the man at the end of the pathway six times over the past two weeks. What are the odds I’d see the same person so many times in the course of just a few days?”

  Ronnie peeked at the man from the corner of his eye. “Perhaps he just moved to the area and spends time in the same places you do; perhaps you share common interests and tastes.”

  “You don’t really believe that,” Christian murmured and turned back. “We’ll give the Celtics a pass, if you don’t mind. I don’t feel like wandering here anymore.”

  Chapter 8

  New York, October 17, 2013, 5:00 PM

  The previous day’s events had left Ronnie distraught. Ever since his workday had begun, he’d been unable to concentrate on any of his assignments. From the moment he’d signed the FDA document, approving the continuation of the trial, his destiny had been tied to that of TDO. He analyzed the situation again and again and always reached the same conclusion. He had only two options: sign the documents or resign. The second option was probably the wiser and more cautious, but Ronnie knew his nature wouldn’t allow him to avoid the challenge. The meeting with Dr. Jörgen Zimmerhof, from which he’d just returned, reestablished his belief that using the existing medicine posed no real danger, but before he received a written opinion, he knew that the risk he’d taken might come back to haunt him at any given moment. He wondered what Liah might say about all this and dialed her number. He hung up after the first ring. The entire undertaking is top secret, he reminded himself and felt embarrassed by the question which popped into his mind: Why can’t I trust the woman who’ll soon be my wife?

  An impatient honk rescued him from his own thoughts. He returned to the right lane, allowing the long line of vehicles that trudged behind him to move on. With his right hand, he called Gadi, who, as usual, answered after a single ring.

  “What’s happening?”

  “A lot. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “It’s your fault. If you’d called yesterday, you would have fewer things to bitch and moan about today. Why didn’t you call?”

  Ronnie began to relax. “Just because. Lots of things happened and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve been promoted to partner,” Ronnie announced dramatically, and immediately added, “and I proposed to Liah and she accepted.”

  “Without consulting with me first? You can’t be serious. This is exactly how you get your life into a mess,” Gadi answered, completely ignoring the bit involving partnership.

  “Not in this case, definitely not in this case.”

  “Then you leave me no choice. I’ll be taking the first flight tomorrow, and we’ll go out to celebrate. It’s been almost three years since the last time I paid you a visit. If I understand things correctly, Liah will soon be your new boss, thus I have to establish the rules of the game with her. I hope it goes well, or else…” Gadi laughed.

  “Don’t be insane and don’t waste your money,” said Ronnie, but in his heart he prayed that Gadi wouldn’t change his mind.

  “I’ll take business class and send you the invoice. Tomorrow at six-thirty, I’ll be picking you up from the office. Get reservatio
ns for a fancy, expensive restaurant. You’re paying for that as well.”

  “Honestly, I’m really happy you’re coming,” answered Ronnie and, for the next half hour, updated Gadi with everything that’d taken place during his meeting with the TDO CEO.

  “Awesome. We’re going to have a blast. Bye.” Gadi finished the call in his usual abrupt manner and hung up the phone.

  Ronnie was now all smiles and tranquility. Gadi was his best friend, against all odds, actually. When Ronnie was seventeen, he’d volunteered, like all his classmates, to instruct at-risk youth in the City of Lod. During their opening conversation, the social worker explained to the volunteers that according to her philosophy most of their energies should be invested in trying to save the youths who had not yet begun to lead a life of crime, those who still showed up at school now and then, their occasional attendance indicating a desperate call for help more than any real desire to study.

  Ronnie raised his hand and passionately expressed his opinion that the system was choosing the easy way. “It does not matter whether they show up at school, we need to find the ones who have real potential and invest in them so that they can serve as role models, perhaps even provide guidance for other children. I believe this is the right way, and I’d like to contact such a school dropout to prove I’m right.”

  It was only after his teacher, who was present at the appointment, had intervened and vouched for him that the social worker agreed to cooperate. “But only if I’m convinced you’re aware of all the risks and receive written consent from your parents.”