Brian Freemantle - Dead End

‘And what could she infer from what she did see?’

‘Only that there was an out-of-the-ordinary exchange going on at the highest level between Paris and Washington.’ You were the guy who mentioned France publicly at the seminar, thought Newton.

Grant pulled a sheet of paper from another folder, gazing down at it for several moments before reading aloud: ‘ Welcome your assessment of our detailed security proposal. And it’s signed Mendaille.’ He didn’t speak for several more moments, and Newton remained silent, too. ‘No,’ the bulky, white-haired man abruptly decided. ‘By itself it wouldn’t mean anything.’

‘I think I’ll keep security on to things – ensure that she does as she’s been told. Warn Showcross that I want to be told if she shows any more curiosity.’

‘Do that!’ agreed Grant, who’d already given the order to the security chief. ‘What about Showcross? He likely to become too curious?’

Newton shook his head, positively. ‘Showcross knows where his salary cheque comes from.’

‘Keep the security check on Parnell, too. Let’s watch for any interest there shouldn’t be from him.’ There was another pat on the Washington dossier. ‘I really do think you handled that website business very well, too. What I find unbelievable is that the son of a bitch actually suggested it in the first place.’

‘He’s got a lot of adjustments still to make to living in the commercial world. But I’m knocking him into shape. I’ve set up some other things,’ openly boasted Newton.

‘Keep on the job, Dwight.’

‘I always do.’

‘And I’m always grateful.’ There was a too obvious look at his watch. ‘Sorry I can’t offer you lunch…’ Grant put a hand tight beneath his chin. ‘I’m up to here.’

It would have risked his New York visit becoming too publicly known, acknowledged Newton. ‘I need to get back anyway.’

‘We’ll keep in close touch – the closest,’ insisted the president. ‘I don’t want to lose control of this.’ Control, of everything and every one and every cent, was Edward C. Grant’s watchword.

‘I’m not clear on one thing,’ said Newton, briefly refusing the dismissal. ‘Are we going to go ahead with the French idea?’

Grant gave himself time to compose the reply. ‘Commercially it makes very good sense. But the medical decision has got to be yours, Dwight. If it is medically safe, as the French insist, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t do it. But we can’t, obviously, risk being caught out.’ Which is why you’re being given the total responsibility, thought Grant.

It put his name very firmly – and provably – on the proposal, Newton realized. So he couldn’t relax – the very opposite, in fact. ‘If I decide there’s a chemical danger, we don’t go ahead?’

‘We can’t chance anything unethical. But at the same time we’ve got every right to protect our products, intellectual and otherwise,’ smiled Grant. ‘It would certainly be commercially good for the company. I want you to keep that in mind.’

That was the closest he’d get to a positive order, accepted Newton. ‘We’ll put it through every test.’

‘I know you will. That’s why you are where you are, Dwight. I’d trust you with my life… and those of everyone else whose lives are made better by the drugs and treatments we devise.’

‘Thank you. That’s good to hear.’ It was almost as if they were working from a script now. He wished it wasn’t a script written entirely by the other man.

‘And Dwight,’ added Grant, as Newton was almost at the door to the suite.

‘What?’ frowned Newton, turning back into the room.

‘Not that way. The private elevator. Don’t forget the security.’

Or the culpability, thought Newton.

‘So, you’re finally set up?’

‘And ready to go,’ agreed Parnell. Today there was no obvious resentment and the coffee had been freshly brewed and waiting when he reached Russell Benn’s office. Parnell had considered inviting the head of chemical and medical research across to the newly established pharmacogenomics wing, only changing his mind during the two-day delay in this intended work-planning meeting: inter-office protocol decreed he still go to the other man.

‘Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier,’ apologized Benn. ‘The way I understood our earlier meeting was, quite simply, that you’d like to be involved in everything we’re currently doing?’

‘Become an integral – extra – part of it, yes,’ said Parnell. ‘And run simple nucleotide polymorphism tests on what Dubette are already producing, to make them more effective.’ The change in Benn’s attitude was encouraging.

The other professor nodded. ‘That, as of an hour ago, involves something like three hundred and sixty different experiments covering new possibilities with existing drugs, treatments and therapies currently under phase one evaluation between oral, blood or muscle injection. Additionally there are fifty-three other quite new investigations still at animal-level testing, which, obviously, are at the moment open-ended.’

‘That’s a hell of a schedule!’ exclaimed Parnell. He hadn’t anticipated half that number.

‘We’re a hell of a cutting-edge company,’ said Benn. ‘And I haven’t included competitor analyses.’

‘What’s the extent of your total programme?’

‘Stick a pin anywhere into an infectious-diseases dictionary and we’re doing it, the most obvious and current at the top of the list.’

It was all very forthcoming, prepared almost. ‘Looks like quite a challenge.’

‘You really want it all?’ frowned Benn.

‘I want to go through the entire schedule,’ qualified Parnell. ‘Until I study it all, I won’t be able to decide how applicable it is to my discipline. There’ll have to be prioritizing.’

‘Why? Of what?’ challenged Benn.

The sharpness of the demand was Parnell’s second surprise. ‘I would have thought our liaising would initially be better begun with your newer experiments than looking for possible improvements to remedies already tried and proven.’

‘You said you wanted everything?’

‘In a proper, workable order.’

‘How’s that to be decided?’

‘Between the two of us. Between others in our departments, maybe: with the workload you’ve just outlined, it’ll make practical sense to delegate, don’t you think?’

‘You want details of everything!’ persisted Benn.

‘Unless you’ve got a more effective way of our co-operation getting off the ground.’

‘You think you’ve got sufficient people?’

‘No,’ admitted Parnell at once. ‘That’s why it’s necessary to prioritize from the very beginning.’

‘So, you start – we start – with a long list!’

‘And the research notes of that list, all of which I guess is computerized and easily downloaded without causing any of your people any extra work. We’ll simply create our genetic order of priority, where we think we can make the best contribution, share it with you and arrange to the convenience of us both the inclusion of my people in the ongoing physical experiments. Which won’t mean anything more than the exchange of slides and cultures and specimens, surely?’ Parnell was glad he was talking now as if he’d had everything ready in advance, which he hadn’t. There were only a few things, one specifically, that he wanted to introduce when he considered the time to be right.

‘OK,’ said Benn, not trying to conceal the doubt. ‘Let’s try it your way.’

‘And if it doesn’t work my way, we’ll devise another,’ said Parnell, easily. He nodded acceptance to the offered coffee refill.

‘What about your people?’ asked Benn. ‘Any of those arrive with anything interesting from what they did before?’