Michael Ridpath - Final Venture

'BioOne? What's that got to do with anything?'

'I'm not sure. You know Lisa was fired from Boston Peptides?'

'Yeah. Art told me. He seemed kind of pleased about it, to be honest.'

'Bastard,' I muttered.

'Tell her I'm sorry when you see her.'

'That's unlikely,' I said. 'She's gone back to California.'

'Oh,' said Daniel. 'Not good.'

'Not good at all,' I agreed. 'Anyway, she was fired for asking Thomas Enever some awkward questions about BioOne's wonder drug.'

'So?'

I leaned forward. 'John phoned me before he died. He left a message on my machine. Said he had found out something about BioOne that might interest me. That's why I went to see him on Saturday night.'

'But you never got a chance to talk to him?'

'No.'

'I see. So what might interest you about BioOne?'

'I don't know anything, that's the problem. Is there anything funny going on there? Anything that might lead to Frank and John getting killed?'

Daniel shrugged. 'Such as?'

'Something wrong with neuroxil-5, perhaps? That was what Lisa was asking Enever about.'

'I don't think so,' answered Daniel. 'I just do the number-crunching remember, but I haven't heard anyone talk about problems with the drug. In fact they all seem to think it's working very well in the clinical trials. They're pretty confident.'

'By "they", who do you mean?'

Daniel paused. 'Everyone at the company that I come across. Art, obviously. Jerry Peterson, Enever, the CFO, even Harrison Brothers, the investment bankers.'

'You don't think they're hiding anything?'

'It doesn't look like it to me. But I'm no biotech expert. I can poke around discreetly if you like.'

I smiled thankfully. 'That would be great, Daniel,' I said.

'Is there anything else you think might be the problem?' he asked.

'I don't know. There are so many things it might be. Fraud. Insider trading, perhaps. Perhaps something to do with the Boston Peptides take-over.'

'I'll see what I can do,' said Daniel. 'It'll be tough, though. Art keeps all the information on BioOne strictly to himself

'I know,' I said. 'That's why I'm planning to ask him about it myself

Daniel winced. 'Now that will be fun. And if he comes up with anything interesting, be sure to tell me. The more I work with him, the more I think it could be a laundry detergent company for all he knows.'

Art's door was open. I knocked. He was back from lunch, on the phone. A faint smell of alcohol hung in the room. He waved me to a seat and continued talking. Usual Art conversation. It was actually about a new deal. Something to do with a company that did special effects for Hollywood. That sounded like it would have a sky-high bullshit quotient. A great deal for Art.

Finally the phone went down. 'That is a deal we have to do,' said Art.

'Good,' I replied, not willing to be drawn.

'What can I do for you, Simon?' He looked at his watch. 'I've got a few calls to make.' He and I had done a pretty good job of avoiding each other in the week or so since I had visited him at his house. But I needed to pin him down now.

'It won't take long. I just wanted to ask you about BioOne.'

Art frowned. 'What about it? If it's about your wife being let go, I had nothing to do with that decision. That was entirely Dr Enever's call. What he does with his people is his own affair.'

'Actually, it wasn't about Lisa's job. I wondered if you could tell me something. What's wrong with neuroxil-5?'

Art's frown deepened. 'There is nothing at all wrong with neuroxil-5. All the trial results so far have been excellent, and we are expecting great things when the Phase Three trial results are published in March.'

'There's nothing wrong with the drug at all?'

'Why do you think there should be?' asked Art crossly.

'Lisa seems to think there's a problem with it. That may have had something to do with why she was fired.'

'I checked up on the drug specifically last month, when Frank talked to me. I went through it all with Dr Enever. There is nothing wrong with neuroxil-5.'

'Wait a minute. Frank asked you about neuroxil-5?'

'Yes, he did,' Art said, looking as though he regretted mentioning it.

'What did he ask?'

'Same as you. Was there anything wrong with the drug?'

'Wasn't he more specific? Did he mention any particular potential problem?'

Art raised his hands. 'He may have. I can't remember. All I know is that I checked it out and there was nothing in it.'

'Have you told the police this?'

'No. Why?'

'Didn't you think it was suspicious?' I asked.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean Frank asked you a question casting doubt on Revere's most important investment, and shortly afterwards he was murdered.'

Art shook his head. 'No, Simon, I wasn't suspicious. I saw no reason to be. Frank was playing political games. Revere is what it is today because of BioOne. My investment. Frank wanted to discredit me, and so he went for my investment. Trouble was, he had no evidence.'

I bit back my frustration. 'You're sure you can't remember what Frank asked you about, specifically'

'No, I cannot,' said Art angrily. And let me tell you something. BioOne is at a very delicate stage right now. The last thing it needs is for someone like you to go around asking difficult questions.' He licked his lips, and jabbed a finger at me. 'If you go suggesting to anyone, and I mean anyone, that there is something wrong with neuroxil-5, I'll have you out on your ass before you can say lah-di-fucking-dah.'

I stood up. 'No, Art. If there is something wrong with neuroxil-5, I'll find it. And you won't be able to stop me.'

Art stood up, glaring at me across his desk. 'Don't threaten me, boy. BioOne is the most important investment in the whole damn firm. You fuck with BioOne, you fuck with me. Your wife asked dumb questions and she lost her job. You ask dumb questions, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll wish you were still prancing around on ponies at the Queen's tea parties.'

I turned and left him standing at his desk red-faced and shaking.

I made my way back to my office deep in thought. Art had a point: asking questions about BioOne was dangerous. Both Frank and John had done it, and they were both dead. It was too much of a coincidence.

Gil passed me in the corridor. His weather-beaten face was even more worn than usual. I wondered whether his kidney problem was causing him pain. He nodded to me curtly, his mind preoccupied, presumably with John's death and the press.

On impulse, I stopped him. 'Gil?'

'Hm.' He focused on me, his eyes dull through his thick lenses.

'Do you have a moment?'

'What is it?'

I looked quickly around me. There was no one about.

'Are you confident in BioOne?'

Gil looked surprised. 'Why do you ask?'

'It was just something John was worried about before he died.'

'Yes, the police mentioned you'd told them that.'

'Are you sure everything really is as solid as it seems?'

'Yes, I guess I am,' Gil said. 'That's not to say there won't be hitches, there always are. But BioOne is a big winner, it's written all over it.'

'Don't you sometimes worry that there's nothing there?'

'What do you mean?'

'The company has never made a profit. It's only real asset is neuroxil-5. What if that turned out to be worthless?'

'But it's not worthless,' Gil said. 'It's medicine's best hope for treating a chronic disease that affects millions of sufferers.'

'But what if there were something wrong with neuroxil-5?'

'Such as?'

'Oh, I don't know. The drug didn't work or something. BioOne would be worth nothing, wouldn't it?'

Gil smiled tiredly. 'You're right to be cautious, especially with biotech. It's one of the cardinal sins of venture capital to count profits before they've been made. And there are dozens of biotech companies whose drugs have been shown to be no better than a pill made of sugar. But that's not the case with BioOne. I have a good feeling about this one.'