Out of control

by John Dysart

  “What!” He jolted back in surprise. “Posted from Saumur?”

  I confirmed.

  “Yes, and the envelope is currently in the possession of the police in Scotland.”

  I stared at him furiously, challenging him to reply.

  I have seen enough in my life to know that the actions of some individuals seem to defy all logic. I suppose it’s because it’s passions and emotions that tend to drive the unusual actions – good or bad – and not logic. I wanted to know what it was in this case.

  He swivelled his wheelchair round to face the window and, elbows resting on the arms, he raised his hands to his face as if holding it up with his thumbs and forefingers. He held his head immobile and stared out of the window.

  I could only see his back so I had no idea of the expression on his face. His shoulders had sagged a little and he stayed like that for a full minute, saying nothing. Then there was a sigh, a straightening up of the shoulders as if he had come to some decision. He turned back to face me. His expression was serious, with a touch of sadness in it.

  “Bob, you are right,” he said.”I do know what you are talking about.”

  “In that case would you mind explaining,” I said coldly. “Why did you get my grandson fired from his job?”

  My voice clearly resonated with the anger I felt. This man had deliberately orchestrated a piece of what was effectively industrial espionage and Liam had been the victim.

  I waited.

  He looked me directly in the eye. His expression was forthright and serious. But he hesitated a little, as if steeling himself to speak.

  “What I am about to tell you will make you understand what has happened but I would ask you to promise me, before I explain, that you will discuss with me what, if anything, should be done because this affects not only your grandson but two other people who are very dear to me.”

  Mystified, I nodded my head. Taking that as agreement, he continued. “As you know, I used to work for LyonPharma before my accident. When I left I kept the shares I had in the company because I felt they were a good investment. Since that time things have changed. When the old boss died they brought in someone new– a M. Dugain – to take over the role of general manager a few years ago. I still have some contacts with old colleagues amongst whom are the financial director and the head of R & D.”

  He paused for a second or two then went on.

  “I see them from time to time when I go to Lyon and, through them, I was introduced to the new general manager. We met once over lunch. As you can imagine talk was general and concerned mostly the pharmaceutical industry. A typical business lunch with the usual discussions about markets and competitors. The new man, Bernard Dugain was very keen on hearing my opinion on marketing and sales matters and my views on new products.

  “I have to admit I didn’t particularly like him and, from what I had heard, he was running the company in a very different way from before.

  “During the conversation I learned of the work they were doing on an Alzheimers product. I hadn’t known this before and I happened to mention that I had a small investment in Bioscope who were working in the same direction. From what I knew about it I had felt that the project they were working on had potential. We talked a little about Bioscope because Michel, the R & D director had met Helen Mackie – they meet quite often at conferences – and knew that she had worked for me in the past. I also I mentioned that I had managed to place a friend’s grandson with them for a year’s work experience. An innocuous remark and I thought no more about it.”

  I listened attentively, not wanting to break the flow of his words. This was beginning to sound very strange. I had no idea what he was leading up to.

  Antoine continued.

  “No confidences were broken. I said nothing about what I knew about Helen’s research and Michel told me nothing of his work. Dugain, however, was more curious. He tried to get more information out of me but I told him quite clearly that I had no knowledge of the details of Bioscope’s research – only the broad lines, which Michel knew anyway – and, even if I did I couldn’t possibly tell him.”

  “What’s this guy, Dugain, like?” I asked, curious to have his opinion.

  “I think when you hear the rest of what I have to say you’ll get the answer to that. Let me go on.”

  He bent down to a drawer in the side of his desk and pulled out a thin file which he laid on the desk in front of him, placing his hand over it as if it contained something precious. Then he continued.

  “That was several months ago. I thought no more about it. A couple of months later I had a call from Helen Mackie. She was very excited. She gave me the news that she had solved her problem and it was thanks to Liam. She hoped to register a patent within a month.”

  He paused for a moment, fingering the file which lay on his desk, as if plucking up courage to go on.

  “A month later I had another call from Helen. This time she was not at all happy. In fact, she was livid. She had just discovered that LyonPharma had made an application for an identical patent two weeks before and so there was no point in her doing so.”

  “She was convinced that there had been a leak which she told me had come from Liam because he was the only one, other than her partner and herself, who had known about it.”

  So far I had learned nothing new but I didn’t interrupt the flow. He was re-running what had happened and would get there eventually.

  “I sympathised and apologized for the fact that it was because of me that your grandson had gone there in the first place. She told me she had fired Liam and that she didn’t consider I was to blame.” I was getting impatient. I got up and paced up and down, hands in pockets.

  “Go on,” I said.

  “I naturally wondered if there was any truth in what she said so I immediately called Michel. He was very pleased with himself. I duly congratulated him and asked him how he had solved his

  “It was really a stroke of luck, Antoine.” he told me . “A couple of months ago Dugain came into my office to ask how progress was going and I explained that we’d come to a dead end. He’s not a scientist but we did exchange a few thoughts about how to proceed – a kind of brain-storming if you want. To cut a long story short he proposed that I try ultra violet light to fuse the two compounds together.

  “I didn’t say that the idea was ridiculous but it did seem a crazy idea to me at the time. He insisted I try and, lo and behold, it worked. I’d never have believed it. The guy’s not even a scientist.”

  Antoine continued. He told me that he had phoned Helen back, saying nothing about his conversation with Michel, and she had been adamant that it was no accident. She had explained how the breakthrough they had made had been a sheer fluke - a one in a million chance that had enabled them to unlock the solution. There was no way that LyonPharma could have come up with the same stroke of luck.

  I wandered over to the window, hands deep in my pockets, and stared absent-mindedly at the green parkland stretching away from the house, going over what he had said.

  I turned back to Antoine who was waiting patiently.

  “So what did you do next?”

  “I did what you’re doing right now. I had a suspicion. If it was true then I was not going to like it one bit. So I got Madeleine to drive me down to Lyon and I went to see the person who I hoped would clarify things.”

  “Dugain?”

  “Yes, Dugain,” he replied.

  Chapter 16

  Antoine continued his story.

  “At first, Dugain received me courteously. He offered me a coffee and asked me why I had come to see him. There was a look about him that I didn’t like. I think I told you that I hadn’t been too impressed the first time I met him and, chatting to Michel afterwards, I had heard some pretty unsavoury stories about the way he was managing the business. ‘Ruthless’ was a word Michel had used.”

  I stopped him and mentioned that I had seen a couple of videos of th
e man and I knew what he meant.

  “I didn’t like much of what I saw of him either,” I said.

  Antoine replied ruefully. ”Wait until you here the rest.”

  At his suggestion we moved over to the window. He propelled his wheelchair expertly across from behind his desk, picking up the folder as we went. I settled into an armchair. There was no longer the barrier of the desk between us and the atmosphere changed. I had the impression that he was more at ease.

  “I told Dugain that Bioscope had told me that they are convinced that LyonPharma’s recent application for a patent could only have been the result of industrial espionage. They believed that there was no way that LyonPharma could have beaten them to the punch without inside knowledge.

  “I didn’t mention the conversation I had had with Michel because I didn’t want him getting into trouble. I told him that Liam had been accused of passing information and had been fired. Naturally I was concerned because Liam was the grandson of a friend.

  “As far as I can recall, the conversation went:

  ‘I want to know if you had anything to do with it. Is there any truth in Bioscope’s accusation?’

  “The bastard just sat there smiling, his beady little eyes thrusting out through his little round glasses.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked me.

  ‘ Did you have anything to do with getting information out of Liam Bruce?’

  ‘Antoine…’

  ‘M. de Clermont, if you don’t mind…’

  ‘Oh. I’m very sorry,’ he said, leaning back in his chair with a supercilious air . ‘M. Clermont, what business is it of yours?’

  ‘I’m a shareholder in both companies and the grandson of a friend has just lost his job. I think that justifies my question.’

  “He laughed at me. Can you believe it? He laughed at me, the bastard! If I’d had the use of my legs I’d have gone for him.”

  ‘M. de Clermont, what are you complaining about? You have a considerable investment in LyonPharma and the shares have just gone up substantially. You should be happy. We’re here to make money, aren’t we?’

  “Then his face changed. He suddenly leant forward, slammed his hand down on the desk and half rose.”

  ‘Yes, M. de Clermont. When you mentioned the name of your friend’s son I wondered if I might have an opportunity to get some inside knowledge on the progress of Bioscope. I hit the jackpot. And don’t start moralising. Business is about making money and I don’t care how.’

  “I was disgusted. The Romanian bastard. Coming here to France with his total lack of morals, ruining our business reputation. I was furious. I told him that I would have him removed from his job. I’d inform the press, call a shareholders’ meeting and get him out.

  “That was when the tone changed. He glared at me, stood up and said, coldly and slowly, ‘You will do no such thing, Monsieur. You will say absolutely nothing and here’s why.’

  “He opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out an envelope which he handed to me.”

  ‘I think our conversation is over,’ he said. ’My secretary will show you out” and left the room. I was left with the envelope in my hand.

  “When I opened it and pulled out the contents to look at them, I understood. He was right. I would say absolutely nothing.”

  *

  Antoine lent his head back and rubbed his hands over his eyes. To recount all this had taken a toll on him. Then he turned and looked at me.

  I asked, as I was obviously expected to do, “What was in it?”

  “Look for yourself,” he said, opening the file and handing me the brown envelope.

  I took it and opened the flap and slipped my fingers inside. I could feel the glossiness of a photograph. I pulled it half out of its cover. There was no need to take it out completely.

  Curiosity, surprise and shock. One followed the other. I was looking at a photograph of Pierre and Madeleine, in bed together, naked and embracing.

  It only required a brief glance. The faces were clearly recognizable and their pose left no room for misunderstanding. I pushed the photograph straight back, closed the flap and handed it back.

  “Shit,” was all I could think of saying. I was gutted. I felt desperately sorry for all three of them.

  Antoine put the envelope down on the table beside him.

  “You don’t seem completely surprised,” he said.

  “I’m shocked by the existence of the photo and the way it came into your possession. Surprised by the subject? Not really. Do they know of it?”

  “Definitely not and I would ask you never to say anything about it.” I promised. I admitted to Antoine that I was aware of the situation because Pierre had told me, in strict confidence, when I had hazarded a wild guess after the first time we met.

  “I understand,” he said quietly.”It’s probably better that you do know but I think I’d prefer it if Madeleine wasn’t aware of the fact.”

  I assured him it was safe with me.

  “But none of this helps Liam or Helen,” Antoine continued. “I hope you can understand that my hands are tied. Dugain will publish these photos in the sensational press if I do anything against him. He called me the next day to repeat his menace, yelling down the phone at me and ranting like a madman. He gloated that he had the camera with the original shots in his safe at the office and they would go to a journalist he knows if I so much as breathed a word.”

  I had no doubt in believing that. And I could now see things a lot more clearly. Antoine couldn’t possibly run the risk of Dugain carrying out his threat. Yes, he had been the one who had let slip Liam’s name and, therefore, indirectly the source of Liam’s troubles and of Helen losing out on her product - but completely inadvertently. As soon as he had heard of Helen’s suspicions he had gone straight to Dugain to make his feelings felt and found out the truth.

  But he couldn’t say anything about it. He had no option but to keep his mouth shut. And would I have done any differently? The answer was ‘No’.

  “Antoine, thank you for telling me. I understand how difficult it must have been and I appreciate it very much. Liam will survive. He, after all, didn’t really do much wrong and perhaps he’ll learn from it.

  “There are a couple of things, however, that you don’t know which makes me wonder whether we should see if we can take this any further but, obviously without the risk of Dugain going public. Do you mind if I take a five minute stroll?”

  “Go ahead,” he said.”While you’re gone I’ll get a half bottle of wine while you do your thinking. Perhaps it’ll help. I agree with you. If there’s anything we can do to bring down that man, without risk, I’ll willingly help.”

  I went out through the double glass doors on to the terrace and paced up and down for about five minutes, going over things. Antoine knew nothing about the offer on Bioscope’s shares. Could we use that? And then there was the letter posted in Saumur. I supposed that Dugain must have arranged that to throw suspicion the wrong way just in case anything happened. Covering his tracks.

  And there was something else. What was it? I suddenly remembered. Antoine had called Dugain ‘a Romanian bastard’.

  I went back inside and sat back down beside him and we appreciatively enjoyed the freshness of a delicious local red wine which he had put on ice.

  “Red wine on ice?” I commented. “I thought reds were supposed to be drunk at room temperature.”

  “Bordeaux, Burgundy and heavier wines, yes. But a light Loire red is often better cold.”

  I had to agree that the freshness suited it.

  “Antoine, do you know how Dugain got the information from Liam?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  So I told him about Irina. I recounted the story of her arrest, her background and the fact that she was now dead. He was horrified.

  “And this girl worked for LyonPharma in Scotland?”

  “And, before that, in Lyon.” I went on “By the way, did yo
u say that Dugain was Romanian?”

  “I’m not certain but I think he is. I think Michel told me that but I couldn’t be sure. He’s certainly Eastern European.”

  “Is there any way of finding out for sure?”

  “I can try.”

  “Let’s leave that one for now. There’s something else you need to know. Dugain has bought the forty percent of the shares of Bioscope that were owned by Albion Venture Capital.”

  “Good God. What for?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Can you think of a reason?”

  “Maybe just for the pleasure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some people are like that. When they’ve pulled a fast one and have won, or at least think they have, they can’t resist rubbing the person’s nose in it. They seem almost to take more pleasure from that than the deal itself.”

  I hadn’t thought of that but it was true. I’d seen it before. A way of crowing about your victory. I even met someone who admitted to it. And he was a nasty piece of work as well.

  Madeleine arrived back. She’d been off on a shopping trip and expressed delight at her unexpected visitor. I told her I’d been touring and had just dropped in to say ‘Hello’. She immediately insisted that I stay for dinner and that there was bed for the night if I wanted. Antoine added his encouragement so I accepted.

  “Fine, then I’ll go and organise dinner….”

  She went over to the cabinet and took another glass, poured herself a healthy portion from the bottle in front of us,

  “…… while you two can finish what’s left of the wine,” and went off with a smile.

  Antoine and I continued our discussion.

  Having heard what Dugain had done to Antoine I had become determined to try to find some way of bringing him down – making him suffer. I don’t deny it. I wanted revenge.

  I summarised my thinking to Antoine.