by Lisa Eugene
“You said John Fusso planned on investing millions?”
Gordon looked up, a doggie treat still in one hand. “Yes. I have a contact at Omega. He’s an animal sympathizer who’s afraid to be as vocal as I’ve been. My source tells me that Fusso withdrew all the money he’d pledged to Omega. Fusso followed this research with a keen eye. When more side effects kept surfacing, he pulled the funding, stating he needed it for other ventures. Gross and Phillips were lying at the conference, those rotten sons of whores! Fusso was their main investor. He wants nothing more to do with them and is looking for other investments. He was at the conference. Though I don’t know why.”
Brad cleared his throat. “I think I know. I was supposed to sit with him that day. But I decided instead to—”
“Sit with an old fool!” Gordon threw his hands up dramatically, then tossed a treat into the air. It was snatched up by a dog. “I’m honored, Dr. Markson. Most people scatter when they see me coming!”
Chloe quirked a brow and smiled. I can’t imagine why! She’d always found the academic world of medicine and science to be a stoic, stiff, cerebral family of conservative intellectuals. Gordon was like the crazy uncle they’d keep locked in the attic. They probably didn’t know what to make of him, but she found that she couldn’t help liking the strange, outspoken man. He was like a breath of fresh air. She took another sniff of the room. Maybe not so fresh…
“So, Mr. Fusso has taken an interest in you?” Gordon continued, addressing Brad. “No doubt Mr. Phillips is not happy. Mr. Phillips needs his money.”
Brad snorted. “I’m not that interesting. It’s my parents’ new project he wants in on.”
“Oh, the whoremonger has set his sights high!”
Chloe watched Brad shelter his expression, and she looked to Gordon for an explanation.
“What project?”
“What project!” Gordon’s bushy white brows jumped into his hairline. He looked to the Irish Terrier in disbelief. “Don’t tell me she hasn’t heard of the Drs. Markson? I know you have, right?” He laughed heartily. The Terrier stared, no doubt laughing on the inside as Gordon continued to address him, wagging a finger. “Don’t give me that look! I saw you reading their articles! You’re the sly one who’s always stealing my newspapers.”
Chloe looked blankly at Brad, who was staring somewhere beyond her. She still couldn’t read the expression on his face. Turning back to Gordon, she cleared her throat noisily, hoping to interrupt his conversation with the Terrier.
“I don’t know them,” she admitted.
“Do you want to fill her in?” Gordon asked the Terrier.
Chloe wanted to stomp her foot. Would someone just explain already! Right now she didn’t even mind if it was the dog.
“They’re pre-eminent scientists!” Gordon began. “Some say our very own modern day Marie and Pierre Curie! Medical doctors who’ve transitioned to the scientific realm to make astounding advances. Have you heard of a little thing called the Nobel Prize? Well, they walked off with it a few years ago for their new malaria vaccine. It’s predicted that it might eradicate the disease within the next decade. It’s being used in endemic areas, mostly third world countries. So far, it’s saved millions of lives!”
Chloe’s eyes rounded, awed. She’d had no idea. She hadn’t known Brad long, but he never spoke of his parents.
“They’re working on an aerosolized form of the drug to make delivery easier,” Brad informed them.
“That’s amazing. Wow.”
“Yes!” Gordon’s voice boomed. “Dr. Markson’s parents are both geniuses! Driven, and highly successful. They’d expect nothing less from their only prodigy.”
Chloe tried to keep her jaw from sagging. She was truly impressed with Brad’s parents’ accomplishments. Although she couldn’t imagine what it was like for him. As their only child, he must be extremely proud of them, but also under immense pressure to be successful. She found her heart reaching out to him as she tried to understand what drove him. He had a reputation for being a hard-ass. Now she knew why.
“We’re not here to discuss my parents,” Brad interjected, and Chloe thought she heard a slight strain in his voice. “Mr. Fusso has expressed interest in their project and has approached me several times. I didn’t sit next to him at the conference because I didn’t feel like being harassed.”
“I should have known.” Gordon stroked his beard. “He’s a greedy opportunist who only surfaces where he can snatch a bite of something. The only person worse than him is Mr. Phillips. He’d bite off the whole hand feeding him.” He turned back to the Terrier and wagged a finger. “Now, now, Cane. Speaking of bites, you mustn’t fill up on treats!”
Chloe’s frowned. “I thought the Golden Lab was Cane.”
Gordon looked at her as though she was daft. “All the dogs are named Cane, of course. Canis lupus familiaris. Subspecies of the Canis lupus, the gray wolf. It’s only fitting.”
Oh.
Of course. She must have missed that in her dog species class. She looked over at Brad. Seeing he was struggling to hold in a smile, she rolled her eyes at him. Really! They were getting nowhere. She side stepped over to where leaned casually against a wall.
“I feel like I’m at the Bronx Zoo. I’ve never seen so many animals in an apartment,” she whispered.
Brad grinned. “I know. He loves animals more than people. Just keep your eyes on your feet and watch out for the snakes,” he whispered close to her ear.
Chloe jolted and nearly yelped in alarm. Immediately her gaze scanned the cluttered floor, and she was almost ready to bolt when she noticed Brad’s dimples playing deep in his cheeks as he bit his lip with contained laughter. She sent him a scalding glare and the look of boyish innocence he shot her was heart-stopping sexy.
“Wouldn’t Phillips be forced to scrap Memoram or find other funding?” She heard Brad question Gordon a moment later, her gaze still busy skimming the floor.
“Other funding?” Gordon directed the question to a different canine that had ambled over for a doggie treat. His voice rose in disbelief as he addressed the animal. “Can you believe they ask such a question, Cane?”
Cane turned and Chloe swore he regarded Brad with disdain and barked his contempt.
“There is no other funding. Far as I know, Phillip tried but no one will touch this,” Gordon supplied. “When Fusso pulls out of a project, everyone expects that it’s dead. I heard he was so angry about all the money he’d wasted so far, he told them the only way he’d jump back in is if they brought him real data. If Phillips could prove that the drug works in human subjects, he’d jump back in.”
The air seemed to suddenly thicken to a stifling atmosphere and Chloe had to make an extra effort to inhale. Her gaze crashed into Brad’s as his expression sobered and he pushed away from the wall.
“What did you just say?” Brad’s question was directed at Gordon, but his gaze never faltered from Chloe’s.
CHAPTER TEN
Unaware of the tension in the room, Gordon continued tossing doggie treats into the air, the dogs eagerly snatching them. “The bastard asked for proof it works in humans. Which was basically him pulling the plug, because the FDA is never going to approve this drug as investigational with its current issues. So it’s a catch twenty-two for Omega.”
Chloe cleared the cotton from her throat. “A catch twenty-two?”
Brad stood, his legs braced with his arms folded across his broad chest. His jaw was set in granite and his eyes were piercing. His voice revved low as he explained.
“They can’t test in humans until they get FDA approval and they can’t get FDA approval until they do more preclinical trials and prove that the drug is safe. They need the money from Fusso to finish the preclinical trials and he won’t give them the money until they prove that it works in humans.”
“Bingo!” Gordon exclaimed from across the room.
Oh my God…
Chloe felt a clammy film glaze her body and her heart t
humped a chaotic beat in her breasts. She was certain that Omega was conducting tests using human subjects at WMH. If they could prove that the drug worked, then Mr. Fusso would resume his funding. But, it wasn’t working! Things were going wrong! People were dying! She took a deep breath, trying to align her thoughts and control her shaking. Her mind was frantic, but something still didn’t make sense to her.
“But haven’t the tests so far shown that the drug isn’t safe? Why are they still so eager to continue research? Why not scrap the drug?” she asked, desperate to wrap her brain around this nightmare.
Gordon pulled up to his full height, his crinkly eyes narrowing as he regarded her. He pulled on his suspenders and responded. “The early phases of preclinical testing were extremely promising. The subjects all showed marked improvement. Improvements that were unprecedented. The problems started occurring about a week into the dosing. We started to see the side effects I described in the lecture. The test subjects turned into red-eyed devils.
Omega believes in the drug, thinks it may be different in humans. Despite these side effects, Phillips thinks it still has great potential and is willing to continue full speed ahead. Can you imagine what it would mean for Alzheimer’s if they developed a cure? Phillips feels that if the side effects can be controlled, this drug would be revolutionary. The medication has a long half-life and they believe it’s a dosing issue. They think it would work if they found the right dose.”
“How is that usually accomplished?”
“By giving different doses to the subjects and observing them. By drawing sequential blood work to check on drug levels, drug clearance, and end organ effects.”
“So the subjects would have to be monitored very closely. They would have to be in a contained environment where they can be observed every day,” Chloe said, verbalizing thoughts that were rapidly unfolding.
“Precisely.” Gordon moved around the room. He was now at the gerbil cage, dropping what looked like small bundles of grass into the top. “Hello, LuLu…”he crooned. “I’d let you have some freedom, but Freddie is out and about. You don’t want to be his next meal.”
Freddie? Gulp! Chloe’s gaze skidded along the floor. She hoped to God that Freddie was a goat, or some animal with legs, because she hated snakes.
Brad gave a long exhale beside her, and she could tell he too was trying to process what he’d just heard.
“Just because the animal subjects did well initially doesn’t mean this drug will work in humans. Plus these side effects demonstrate that the drug is not safe.”
“I agree entirely, but testing a drug like this,—where behavior and cognition are the variables being studied, is very difficult in animals. Even with genetic engineering and inflicting surgical brain lesions to induce dementia and memory loss, the animal brain is still not precisely comparable to the human brain. You cannot account for other variables in human cognition that will impact how they respond to a drug affecting memory and behavior.
Our cerebral cortex is much more advanced. Our ability to rationalize and assimilate information and input from our environment is very different from the animal brain. So it doesn’t surprise me that he’d want to see how it performs in human subjects before sinking millions of dollars into its continued testing.”
“The drug may well be the cure for Alzheimers, but if you die from it, it’s a futile endeavor,” Brad pointed out.
“Absolutely. The toxicity to the animals was noted early, but they kept administering the drug at increasing doses until they became acutely rabid and died.”
“How is the drug administered?” Chloe inquired.
“Last I heard, it was still being given intravenously. Just a one-time bolus given in several stages.”
Gordon was eyeing her again. He stroked his white beard thoughtfully. “Is everything okay, young lady?”
Chloe looked to Brad. He stared back, his eyes alert, but he gave a slight shake of his head.
Gordon sighed deeply, obviously noting the exchange. “Lulu here tells me that something’s up! You don’t need to tell me what it is, but you know how I feel about these son-of-a-bitches! I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
Brad stepped forward. “Do you think you can get us some official data on Memoram from the study?”
Gordon nodded. “My contact at Omega can get me the latest case reports and research protocol from the lab. It will have everything about the drug from chemical composition to the most recent clinical findings.”
“That would be very helpful,” Brad said. “We promise to maintain your anonymity.”
“Fuck it! If you’re sticking it to these bastards in any way, shape or form, then I don’t mind being in on it! You can name me! And feel free to include the others, Lulu, Cane, Freddie, and Gertrude. They hate those pharmaceutical whores just as much as I do.” He looked around the room. “Right guys?”
Back in the car, Chloe found that she couldn’t keep still. Her emotions rocketed in so many directions that she had a hard time keeping them tethered to common sense or anchored in rational thought. The first thing she wanted to do was to run to the police station and demand that Detective Sullivan listen to her. She wanted to tell him everything she’d learned and have him first apologize, then start an investigation into Omega.
When she’d been detained for questioning, he’d regarded her as though she was crazy when she’d mentioned the pharmaceutical company. He’d brushed over her suspicions and deliberately mocked her statements. But Brad was right. Without absolute proof, no one would take her seriously. Gordon Shaw was not the most credible character. She could tell Brad was still having trouble wrapping his brain around what he’d had told them. What Omega was doing was not only brazenly illegal, it was highly unconscionable.
“Chloe, have you told anyone besides the police and myself about your suspicions regarding Omega?” Brad asked, maneuvering the car down Second Avenue towards her apartment. It was well after midnight, but the city streets were still active and lively.
Chloe settled back in the leather seat and took a deep breath, thinking over the past week. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Any of the other nurses? Friends?”
She shook her head, then turned to regard his rigid profile. He gave a pensive nod and slid a glance in her direction. “Good. I think it best if our suspicions be kept between us until we can get some real proof. From what you tell me, I don’t think the police will be making any inquiries into Omega. Seems they didn’t believe you.”
She nodded. “Although I know what they’re up to, it’s still hard for me to process. I can’t believe that Mr. Fusso would ask Omega to provide data in human trials. It’s an outrageous request.”
Brad’s hand found hers in the dark vehicle, and he laced their fingers together. Warmth spread from his palm to her hand and invaded her entire body.
“I suspect he knows it is too, and might not really expect Phillips to deliver. That’s probably why he’s pursuing other options like my parents’ project.”
“And why would Phillips think he can get away with this?”
Brad blew out a deep breath. “I don’t know. Gordon was right. Some people will do anything for money and prestige. Too bad Gordon couldn’t confirm that Nigel worked for Omega.”
“Yeah. I was hoping he’d know who he was,” Chloe thought about what Gordon had said. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember anyone matching Nigel’s description working on the Memoram research or at Omega. She wished she’d gotten a look at the person who’d run from Mr. Kaplan’s room.
They rode in silence for a minute, then Brad’s voice chopped through the thick emotions filling the car.
“I’m worried about you, Chloe.”
He squeezed her hand, his long fingers encircling it.
“Worried about me? I actually feel a sense of relief now. At least I know what’s going on. And with the information that Gordon will give us and the documentation in the charts, the hospital and the police will have to look
into Stark’s activity. I’m sure they’ll come to the same conclusions that we have.”
A glare from a street light washed his chiseled features in a red glow as they came to a stop.
“Maybe,” he said slowly. “But if you didn’t put the syringe in your locker, someone did.”
Chloe sighed and looked out at a crowd of teenagers loitering in front of a bar.
.“I know. I’ve been thinking about that, too. There’re so many questions! I was also wondering how Omega was able to give the patients the medication and monitor them.”
“Maybe that’s where Nigel fits in.”
He brought her hand to his mouth, and she felt the slightest brush of his lips. It caused a sensation that resonated deep in her bones.
“Who has access to your locker?”
“Mmmm…”Chloe pursed her lips. “Only my supervisors. Our lockers are kept locked. Only they know the access codes.”
“Did the police give you any clue as to what was in it?”
“No. The detective kept asking me. He kept saying they were going to find out anyway because it was sent to the lab.”
“Someone’s trying to make you look guilty.”
Chloe nodded, feeing a lump form in her throat. That’s what she’d told the detective, that someone must have put it there. But he hadn’t believed her. He’d badgered and humiliated her, trying to get her to admit that the syringe had belonged to her. She’d become hysterical, but he’d just stared, long, hard, and unmoved. Chloe shivered with the memory of that brutal interrogation, of that windowless room and the emotionless detective. She never wanted to go through that again. Her phone rang and she fished it out of her purse. Recognizing Richard’s number, she answered quickly.
“I can’t make it tomorrow,” he said simply.
Chloe groaned aloud. Her brother meant today, as it was already after midnight, and he was calling to say he couldn’t stay with their mother as scheduled.