Final Venture

man, Art Altschule.'

I digested this information. 'But surely some things must be made public? The company is quoted after all. And doesn't the Food and Drug Administration need data from the clinical trials?'

'Oh yes. The FDA needs truckloads of information. But most of that comes from the Clinical Trials Unit, which is the most secretive department of the lot. They report directly to Enever and no one else.'

'What's this Enever like? I've only met him briefly. Lisa said he got caught fiddling some experiment results a few years ago.'

'That was never proved,' Henry replied. 'He published some research showing that neuroxil-3 might reduce the production of free radicals in the brains of patients with Alzheimer's.'

'Neuroxil-3 was an early form of neuroxil-5?'

'More or less,' Henry replied. Anyway, other scientists couldn't reproduce the results, and a year later Enever was forced to publish a retraction. It caused a bit of a stir, but Enever was never shown to have actually manipulated the data.'

'What do you think happened?'

'I think he succumbed to the oldest temptation for any scientist. Wanting a certain result so badly that he fails to notice contradictory data.'

'I can see Lisa wouldn't like all this. But how did she get herself fired?'

'You know Lisa. She asked difficult questions.'

'About neuroxil-5?'

'Yes.'

'What was wrong with it?'

Henry leaned back in his chair as far as he could, which wasn't very far in his cramped office.

'I don't think there is anything wrong with neuroxil-5,' he said carefully.

'But what about Lisa? What did she think?'

'She badgered Enever into letting her look at some of the research data for neuroxil-5. She wanted to see whether it could be used to treat Parkinson's. Then she had some questions about the data. You know what Lisa's like; she doesn't stop until she has the answers she wants.' Henry smiled to himself. 'You have to know how to handle her. I guess Enever didn't have the patience for it.'

'So he fired her?'

'Yes. She didn't know where to stop. I tried to tell her to give up on it, but she wouldn't listen.'

'And what specifically was she worried about?'

'I can't say,' said Henry, looking at me carefully.

'What do you mean, you can't say?'

'Look, Simon. Neuroxil-5 is at the heart of BioOne's research programme, you know that. I can't tell you anything about it that isn't publicly available. Especially if it is only unsubstantiated guesses.'

'So you think Lisa's concerns were nothing more than that?'

'Yes. Lisa had tremendous intuition for picking up on a possible line of research. But sometimes she forgot she was a scientist. If you test the hypothesis, and find the scientific data doesn't substantiate it, then it's nothing more than speculation.'

I had had this lecture before, from Lisa herself, many times. It was ironic that she was the subject of the criticism this time.

'And the data didn't support her hypothesis, whatever it was?' I asked.

'Not in my opinion, no,' said Henry.

I wasn't a scientist, I trusted Lisa's intuition.

'Simon, I'd love to have Lisa here working with me now,' Henry continued. 'But things are different than they were when Boston Peptides was independent. I don't think Lisa would ever have gotten used to that. She's gone to an excellent post with Mettler in Stanford. I'm convinced she'll be much happier there. In many ways I'd like to join her. But I have to see Boston Peptides through. And with BioOne's resources I can do that.'

I stood up to go. 'Lisa had a lot of respect for you, Henry,' I said. 'It was just another one of those little hunches of hers that turned out to be wrong. Goodbye.'

Henry's eyes blinked behind his large glasses in surprise and dismay as I left him. I was probably being a bit harsh on him, but I didn't care. Lisa had needed all the support she could get. Henry should have given it to her.

As I walked back past Lisa's old lab, I pushed open the door and looked in. I recognized the jumble of benches, mysterious shaped glass containers, paper and boxes of electronics, none of which I understood. Half a dozen scientists were working in there.

One of them, a tall red-haired woman, glanced up as I came in. Kelly. She rushed up to me.

'Simon, will you get out of here! If someone recognizes you we'll be in big trouble.'

'OK, OK,' I said as I was hustled out of the lab. 'Kelly, can I talk to you?'

'No way. Now get out!' She propelled me down the corridor.

'Do you know where Lisa's staying?'

'Yes.'

'Where?'

'I'm not telling you.'

We were in the reception area. 'Is she OK?'

'No,' Kelly answered. 'I'd say she's not OK.'

'Kelly, I've got to talk to you.'

'No you don't,' she said. 'Now please go.'

So I went.

I waited for her on Mass Ave, near the deli where I knew Lisa usually bought her lunch. It was a bit of a long shot. I had no idea whether Kelly frequented the same place, or even when she went for lunch. I staked out the corner of Mass Ave and Boston Peptides' street at twelve, and read the Globe. Then I read the Wall Street Journal. Then a three-day-old Daily Mirror. Chelsea had won the previous Saturday, and there was speculation that they might topple Aston Villa at the top of the Premier League. It was past two, and I was just debating whether to buy Business Week or a National Inquirer when I saw her.

I buried my head in the Journal, which was the biggest of my newspaper collection. I decided to let her buy her sandwich and to catch her on the way back, hoping she wouldn't have any other lunch- time errands to run.

She didn't. I fell into step next to her.

'Kelly!'

'Simon! I thought I told you to beat it.'

'You did. But I want to talk to you.'

'Simon, you are very bad news. Someone might see us.'

'OK,' I said, and grabbed hold of her arm. I steered her down a narrow alley to the left, and dragged her ten yards or so away from the busier street. 'They won't see us now.'

Kelly leaned back against a brick wall. She fumbled for a cigarette. 'I told you. I can't talk to you.'

'At least tell me how Lisa is,' I said. 'You said she wasn't good. I'm worried.'

'You should be.' Kelly's eyes were hard. 'Her dad's dead. She thinks her husband killed him. She's lost her job. The poor woman's a mess. And from what I hear, you made her that way'

Anger and frustration flooded through me. I turned and kicked an empty garbage can. 'Kelly, I didn't kill her father. I didn't get her fired.'

Kelly took a drag of her cigarette, ignoring my denial.

I tried to regain my composure. 'Kelly, you're Lisa's friend, and you have to take her side in this. I appreciate that. I'm glad she was staying with you. But you have to understand my point of view. She's got it all wrong. And I have to show her that, for her sake as much as mine.'

Kelly was listening, just, watching me suspiciously out of half-closed eyes.

'I think her father's death had something to do with BioOne,' I continued. 'Maybe something to do with