'He's after something else,' Dean said. 'Ted Sands hasn't worked for this corporation for over a year-he certainly had nothing to do with Tess or her son. And besides, what could we possibly be at fault for?'
'We drove Tess Jameson to her suicide.' Hearing it aloud, even from his own mouth, sent a wash of acid through Dolan's stomach. Months ago Dolan had been informed of Sam's discharge in a closed-door meeting with his father, brother, and Chris Huang, his protests quickly dissolved into silent complicity (what was that adage about good men doing nothing?).
'No one drives anyone to suicide,' Dean said. 'If you think so, you're a fool.'
'She was hanging on by her fingernails for that kid when she came to us, sir.'
Biting his lip and sliding his hand up the neck to the tenth fret, Chase played the opening phrase from 'Don't Cry for Me Argentina,' bending the last note into a whiny vibrato.
'We've been over this,' Dean said. 'We didn't have a choice.'
'We knew Sam. We used him. I visited him in his own room. And we pulled the rug out on his last option.'
'Right,' Chase said. 'And now some other fucking kid will live and not the one you played checkers with on the local news. We can't save everyone. Not until we have this product approved. And don't forget, she brought this on. Not us.'
Dolan said, 'It didn't look that way when I came into the parking garage.'
Dean laughed-the dry chuckle that had made Dolan's palms sweat for more than three decades. 'This isn't test tubes and Bunsen burners. This is the real world.' He jogged a finger back and forth, indicating himself and Chase. 'Where we live. Wise up, son. And don't lecture me about options.'
'If the Xedral trial goes as smoothly as we think it will,' Chase said, 'who's to say it won't be to market in time to save the kid?'
Dolan smoothed the wrinkles at his thighs. 'His liver's deteriorating faster than our business plan's progressing.'
'You're so wrapped up in that kid that you're keeping tabs?' Dean shook his head. 'Guilt is an indulgence, Dolan. It tangles you in the past. Science is forward-looking. Likewise our business. We have a sound product that will save millions of lives. If you have confidence in Xedral-'
'One of the monkeys is missing,' Dolan said. 'From the longitudinal safety study. She just disappeared.'
Dean settled back in his chair. Same dry chuckle. 'Test subjects don't just disappear.'
'Well, this one did.'
'You watch your tone.'
'I'm sorry, sir.' Dolan moistened his lips nervously. 'The thing is, this isn't the only monkey that disappeared. I checked the safety study trial data, and we also lost two subjects in X3 trials and one in X4s that aren't accounted for. I now require the Lentidra data-not reports, not summaries, but all of it, in raw form-so I can gauge the comparison-'
'Trust me,' Dean said. 'The data's sound.'
'Sir'-Dolan took a moment to still his voice-'you're not…'
'I'm not what? A scientist? Qualified to assess data? No. I'm an entrepreneur who's done approximately forty billion dollars of business in pharmaceuticals. I believe that I-and your CEO-can be trusted to know if there's a problem with some standard data.'
Dolan kept his hands together in his lap, his gaze on the union of his knuckles. He couldn't push any further, but he also didn't want to capitulate. He heard some rustling and figured that Chase and Dean were exchanging glances-puzzlement, contempt-and then Dean said, 'Jesus Christ,' and snatched up the phone. 'Get me Huang. Upstairs. Now.' He turned his attention to Dolan. 'I'll tell you what. If there is, in fact, a problem with Huang's numbers as you claim, we'll get you anything you need. If not, can we stop this endless cycling through old data on discontinued products?'
By the time Huang had arrived and Dean had impatiently brought him up to speed on the impasse, Dolan had settled his nerves enough to remain calm and-he hoped-confident on the couch.
Huang turned to him with evident irritation and said, 'Yes, we took a hit in X3 animal trials, two subjects gone. And one in X4. And their deaths aren't noted in the main body of data.'
Dolan shifted to the edge of the couch.
Huang held the pause, stoking Dolan's anticipation. 'It was simian hemorrhagic fever, Dolan. Not a conspiracy. This shouldn't be news to you. You know we lost two subjects to it at the outset of our X5s.'
'Now three. If you count Grizabella.'
'Grizabella reached through her cage and drank a beaker of sodium hypochlorite last night. I don't think that cause of death figures prominently in our areas of concern. Nor does SHF, which is why it's not factored into the stats for transgene effectiveness.'
'Okay. Fine.' Dolan caught himself backpedaling. 'That begs the issue-'
'Which is?' Chase asked impatiently.
'Which is not that monkeys are dying-fourteen percent of our Xedral monkeys die-it's that they're disappearing from the subject suite and the staff refuse to tell me how.'
'What is going on in that test-subject suite downstairs will reverberate around the world,' Huang said, 'both medically and financially. I hold my team to the highest level of confidentiality. They clear everything through me. That they won't answer the random questions of a scientist from another department-'
'I am the principal investigator and senior scientist of Vector Biogenics. I started this goddamned company, Chris. You're my employee. And your employees are my employees.' Dolan felt his face growing hot. 'I'll ask whatever questions and take whatever data I require to advance our work.'
Huang glanced at Dean, and Dean offered him a patient tip of his head. 'Of course you can. And of course you will,' Huang said. 'But you, like me, have to answer to a board. And adhere to corporate policies for internal communication. I would've been happy to tell you about Grizabella and the other test subjects we lost if you'd simply come to me and asked.' A pause, and then Huang pressed on, 'How did you get that data from earlier trials anyway?'
Dolan polished his glasses to give his hands something to do. 'I pulled it off your computer.'
Dean made a soft noise low in his throat, and Huang sank back in his chair.
'Well,' Huang said after a measured pause, 'I'll be sure to log off my computer every time I leave my station. Any more questions, or can I get back to my work?'
The door swung shut behind his angry exit. Dean ruffled papers at his desk, and Chase strummed a few chords before his cell phone chimed, summoning him into a Net meeting with investors in Asia.
After a few minutes, Dolan rose, mildly unsteady on his feet, and walked out.
Chapter 42
Tim screeched his Explorer around overburdened gardener trucks clogging Wilshire's left lane. With a swipe of his hand, Bear pulled the loose skin of his face into a droop, no doubt shoring up his enduring argument that himself at the wheel was the better default setting.
Tim screwed his cell phone's earpiece in another half turn, as if transmission were the problem. 'You gotta be kidding me.'
Denley's voice hid an element of amusement. 'She will only do it in exchange for an exclusive interview with you.'
'No way.'
'She promised us the B-roll.'
'I don't even know what that is.'
'Neither did I, but now I like saying it. It's the tape that has all the background stuff for the segment or 'package''-Denley's rustling, Tim figured, was his squiggling air quotation marks-'anything that might be a story element. In other words, lots of footage that may have wound up on the cutting room floor. Connective clips of Tess, with the kid, the Vector guy. Pretty critical nexus, that segment. I don't know that we can afford to pass it up.'
