Michael Ridpath - Final Venture

Mauer smiled in a friendly way, and Gil's charm dispelled the moment of awkwardness. But it was clear Art hadn't wanted me there. Tough.

A smartly dressed woman approached us and led us all through a series of corridors, flashing her identity card at winking green lights on the way. We passed silent workers in ones or twos, walking swiftly and purposefully in well-ironed shirts or pristine white coats. Corridors branched off to left and right, presumably leading to laboratories where mysterious biochemical processes were set in action. It was a far cry from the glorified hut where Lisa did her stuff for Boston Peptides. Eventually we reached a door marked DR THOMAS E. ENEVER, TECHNICAL DIRECTOR. The woman knocked, opened the door, and showed us in.

Two men greeted us. One I recognized. He had silver hair and a young fresh face, and wore an open-necked shirt and slacks, every inch the successful Route 128 entrepreneur. Jerry Peterson, BioOne's chairman and Art's old buddy.

The other man was tall and thin. What was left of his hair was oiled back over a shining brown forehead. He had a long narrow face, etched with deep downward sloping lines. He was wearing a bow-tie festooned with tiny balloons. The implied jollity was at odds with his dour expression. Dr Enever, I presumed.

Gil made the introductions, explaining that Mauer was there to understand a bit more about Revere's most important investment. Jerry Peterson ushered her across the large office to a group of chairs and sofas, and sat everyone down. There were enough seats for all of us. The smartly dressed woman produced a tray of coffee cups and filled them all up.

I looked round Enever's office. It was large and tried to combine serious scientist with international business executive. There were shelves with thick books whose titles were made up of words of more than ten letters. Periodicals and magazines were neatly filed. A large whiteboard was adorned with gibberish in tiny script. But there was also a big executive desk, a corner-office view of Kendall Square with a glimpse of the river, and a suite of executive armchairs. There was even some executive art, although somehow I doubted Enever had chosen it.

Jerry Peterson cleared his throat. 'Before I hand over to Thomas here, I'd just like to say that I'm real excited by this opportunity, and I know when he's spoken to you you'll be real excited too. In neuroxil-5, this company has a blockbuster drug, a world-beater. But people often ask me what else we have in the pipeline. The acquisition of Boston Peptides and its anti-Parkinson's drug, BP 5 6, will give us an exciting new prospect to talk about for the future. Thomas.'

Enever smiled thinly, as he sat stiffly in one of his armchairs.

Art caught his attention. 'Thomas, before you start, I wonder if you could just explain to Lynette here what neuroxil-5 does, and how it is progressing.'

'Why certainly,' said Enever, smiling thinly at Gil and Mauer. Alzheimer's disease is a complicated illness that no one really understands at the moment.' His accent was a hybrid of American and his native Australian. 'It strikes with increasing frequency as people get older. Over a period of many years, Alzheimer's kills millions of brain cells. At first the effect is too small to be noticed. Then the patient begins to forget small things, then larger things until they forget their own name, or the faces of their family. Eventually the body forgets how to function, and the patient dies. It's a horrible disease, for the sufferer who becomes increasingly confused by the world around him, and for the sufferer's family, who see their loved one's personality disappear with their memory'

I remembered Carl's story about a woman at the Alzheimer's clinic whose husband had lost his smile, and his fear that that would happen to Aunt Zoe.

'There are a number of processes that develop in the brain of an Alzheimer's patient,' Enever went on. 'The pathways of one of the brain's neurotransmitters become blocked. A twisted plaque builds up in certain parts of the brain releasing molecules known as free radicals that attack the brain cells. Then the brain cells themselves become flooded with calcium. The result of all this is that the brain cells die, although it's hard to tell what is cause and what is effect. Most treatments focus on one or other of these processes.'

Enever's face was animated, as he talked fluently and coherently.

'But these are the symptoms, not the cause. What we have managed to do is identify a gene that, at a certain stage in a patient's life, begins to emit messages to the body that set in train these various effects. These messages are carried by molecules of ribonucleic acid or RNA. We have developed a molecule that neutralizes the RNA emitted by this gene, thus preventing the Alzheimer's from developing further. This is neuroxil-5.'

'So the patient is cured?' Mauer asked.

'Not exactly. Once the brain cells are dead, we can't resurrect them. But we can prevent the death of more brain cells, and hence slow down or even stop the progression of the disease.'

'And how many Alzheimer patients are there?'

'It's difficult to say. The government estimates there are four million in the US alone. They figure the cost to society at about eighty billion dollars a year. And of course those numbers will grow as other medical advances allow people to live longer and the population as a whole ages.'

'That's a huge market.'

Enever twitched a smile. This time his eyes smiled too. 'Billions of dollars.'

Lynette Mauer paused, blinking through her glasses. Gil shifted in his seat, unsure whether she was about to say something, or if he could safely interrupt. Eventually, she spoke. 'Couldn't you give this drug to people with the Alzheimer's gene to prevent them from developing the disease? You know, almost a vaccine?'

Another smile. 'You're very perceptive,' Enever said. 'I couldn't possibly comment.'

God. I could see what Lynette Mauer was driving at. BioOne really could be worth billions if they were able to sell neuroxil-5 to any fifty-year-old who was worried about developing Alzheimer's in old age. I was pretty sure I hadn't heard Art mention that prospect for the company. It was obviously something Enever had up his sleeve for the future.

'And how is the drug progressing?' Mauer asked.

'The clinical trials are going excellently at the moment, although as you know, they are double blinded, which means we won't have a real idea of the results until the trials are completed next year. I'm afraid I can't go into anything more specific. We take confidentiality very seriously here at BioOne. But provided the trials don't throw up any problems, and frankly I don't expect them to, neuroxil-5 will be on the market by the end of next year.'

'Thank you, Dr Enever,' Art said. 'Now, perhaps you can tell us something about Boston Peptides.'

Enever launched into a similar description of BP 56. He was enthusiastic about its prospects for treating Parkinson's disease, but somehow managed to imply that the drug itself had been developed by accident. Then Jerry talked about the deal itself, and Daniel handed round his figures.

They showed strong revenues for BP 56 starting in year seven. As Lisa had always told me, biotechnology is a long-term business.

'How are you going to integrate Boston Peptides into your business?' Ravi asked.

'That won't be a problem,' said Enever. 'We're really just buying the drug. Many drugs are discovered like this, more or less by accident, but they need professional guidance to get them to market.' I stiffened. I didn't like this.

'Although Boston Peptides does have a very exciting new treatment for Parkinson's disease, it doesn't have the capital or the infrastructure or, quite frankly, the management expertise to develop this treatment to its full potential.'