BLIND TRIAL, Brian Deer [top 10 motivational books .txt] 📗

will be she who gets the glory. Indeed, it will.”

“Even with the… what’s happened, and what you had to do?”

“Of course, there will be a far superior product in the fullness of time. That we can deduce a priori. But pause to consider being cited in the literature, in history, as the inventor of the first vaccine licensed for the prevention of HIV-1. My goodness think of that. We could be talking Nobel Prize.”

Ben lifted his coffee and licked the froth. “Guess it’s got to be a pretty big deal.”

“Let me show you something.” Doctorjee raised his phone, tapped at the screen, and slid the device across the table. “Here’s Wilson et al, our forthcoming paper. Now you look at the authors.”

Prevention of HIV-1 infection with WernerVac

A phase III double-blind placebo controlled trial

Frank V. Wilson MD, Simone R. Thomas MD, Stephen Kwong PhD, Heinz Hendricksen MD, Wang Lei Wu MD MS, Maureen S. Valentine PhD, Viraj Grahacharya MD PhD MPH, and Gertrude S. Mayr PhD.

The nosedab moved closer. “You see the order? The order is critical. Whose name is last? Trudy Mayr. Now everyone knows this means she’s the chief. Of course, her PhD’s somewhat questionable for inclusion, of course, being only honorary, but she’s technically senior. She’s the person in charge. Here’s how they read it. They read Wilson’s the first author, the dogsbody, did the work. I’m nothing, the seventh author. And Trudy Mayr’s last: the chief. You see?”

Ben studied the screen. “So, she’s the chief then? You said she was the inventor.”

“Indeed so. But that’s not my point. My point is motivation. Trudy will come on board. And she will come on board for one reason alone. For what drives her.”

“What drives her?”

“Precisely.”

“What drives her?”

“Oh, I see, vanity.” He took back the phone. “Yes, indeed. Vanity.”

“Guess she must have played a humongous part in the thing.”

“Indeed. She led the early work, in vitro, proof of concept, supervised the animal studies, and the phase I and II. But did she direct the phase III, the pivotal controlled efficacy trial? No, she did not. I did. And I indicate that not to be boastful. Did she deal with the practical dilemma we had out here? No, she did not. And I certainly don’t boast about that.”

“Guess she wasn’t up for it, what with her condition.”

“Ben, Trudy Mayr was tending her azaleas on Vedado Way when I was out here may the gods know how many times with Ms. Glinski.”

“The sister said that. She was very complimentary.”

“Thank you, but I’m not seeking praise.” The nosedab retreated, and the voice got louder. “I’m really more concerned to help people. But it was I who took care of that woman. And that involved work for which, to be candid with you, the Grahacharyas are not renowned.”

“Must have been tough seeing to her. And a long way to come, what with all your responsibilities.”

“Ahh, yes.” The EVP leaned forward and reinstated the whisper. “But, you see, who can you trust in that building? It would require an MD. And we could hardly send Rachel McVittie from the sixth floor, could we?”

“I can see you had to deal with it, what with this problem with the vaccine. I mean…”

Doctorjee raised a palm in a gesture of stop! “Please. Do not ever deploy that most unfortunate and inaccurate concept. Do not even think it. There is no problem with our vaccine. Let’s be clear about that. We have a remarkable first product. It’s merely a few individuals who have a problem, and two of those hardly to speak of. Three individuals in an enrollment of nearly twenty-seven thousand. That is all.”

“Mr. Hoffman was saying…”

Tap and tap: the finger on Ben’s sleeve. “Mr. Hoffman may say all manner of things. But he’s not a scientist. He only thinks he understands this material. WernerVac isn’t one hundred percent effective. Nobody ever thought it would be. As a matter of fact, the first polio vaccine was only sixty percent. Seasonal flu vaccines forty to sixty percent, even now.”

“Right.”

“But there is no problem with WernerVac. There’s only an exceedingly small number of individuals who—probably due to some idiosyncratic genetic frailty—cannot accommodate its efficacy.”

Doctorjee ran a finger around the dish in front of him, making the most of the last smear of chocolate. “You must understand, our general counsel has talents. He’s an indefatigable analyst, a man with remarkable connections, and of considerable physical strength for his age.”

“Smart guy.”

“Indeed. But does he understand clinical research? Of course not. He lives in the world of product liability, contracts, money. He’s quite unable to grasp the ethical dimension.”

“The ethical dimension?”

Doctorjee craned forward and scratched his hairline. “The physician’s responsibility to the patient. That’s always the most important duty.”

“Like the Glinski lady.”

“Quite.” The EVP studied his hand, now smudged across the palm with the nosedab chocolate. “The responsibilities I was obliged to shoulder in dealing with Ms. Glinski confidentially, and, more important, compassionately, were significantly onerous.”

“I can see that. Mr. Hoffman explained all that.”

“Naturally. Administering intravenous fentanyl without triggering an autopsy is by no means a guaranteed procedure.”

Forty-three

BEN STEPPED from the restaurant like he’d just come ashore after a month at sea in a rowboat. The ground felt unstable, an unreliable support, an untrustworthy foundation for reality. Was that a Chevron filling station, or some monstrous illusion? Was that the Regency Inn, or a mirage? The night gripped his spine like a drowning man’s overcoat, dragging him to the depths of hell.

This was over the line. This was through the looking glass. This was beyond his brainpower to process. Planting coke on Murayama: that was nothing, drug induced. That was typical biotech conduct. But administering fentanyl? That’s what the guy said. “Without triggering an autopsy.”

Murder.

The Executive Vice President, Research & Medicine, murdered Helen Glinski with a shot.

Ben unlocked the Camaro as his mind raced back through a week of mounting chaos. Maybe Luke was right. That fall on the subway… That curtain thing… And now that gun… So, what would happen