Hypocrite's Isle (17 page)

‘I know exactly why Valdevan didn’t work.’

Simmons had to deal with a host of competing emotions
ranging
from surprise to disbelief. Apart from that, being wrong was never a good feeling. Was it really possible that this boy had
succeeded
where one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world had failed? He would happily have bet his house against the possibility. He distilled his thoughts into, ‘I’m all ears.’

Gavin told Simmons about his experimental work over the vacation and what he had discovered, ending with, ‘So you see, it all makes perfect sense.’

Simmons smiled, conceding that the science had been good and the logic flawless. The pleasure he took from this did much to wipe out the other things he’d been feeling. Scientific truth had a beauty all of its own. ‘It does, and I’m sure you’re right,’ he said. ‘Congratulations, that was a first-class piece of work. In fact, it was better than that; it was bloody brilliant.’

‘Thanks, Frank,’ said Gavin. ‘It just sort of fell into place …’

‘My God, Grumman Schalk will have a fit when they hear about this. How many millions did they flush down the drain?

‘Twenty, I think.’

‘And that was twenty years ago …’

Simmons looked thoughtful for a moment, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with his pen before saying, ‘I think you should write this up immediately and chalk up your first publication. My inclination would be to submit to
Antibiotic and Chemotherapy
but we can have a think about that. In the meantime, as you’ve now shown that knocking out the S16 gene is
not
lethal, there’s nothing to stop you reverting to our original plan and working on
Valdevan-treated
cells. All you have to do is keep the growth rate slow.’

Gavin adopted a slight grimace. ‘Actually,’ he began hesitantly. ‘I was wondering if you might give me a bit more time to work on Valdevan treatment of tumours?’

‘But you’ve just shown why it didn’t work and never could,’ exclaimed Simmons. ‘Game set and match to you. What’s left to do?’

‘I think there may be some more mileage in it. I’m not sure but I’d really like to do a few more experiments.’

Simmons was doubtful. ‘What did you have in mind?’

Gavin, who had not yet formulated a definite plan of action, shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I’m not quite sure yet … We know that the faster cells grow, the more unstable they become in the presence of Valdevan, and we know that tumour cells grow faster in the body than normal cells, so …’

‘There’s no way on earth you’re going to make tumour cells grow as fast in the body as they do in the lab,’ interrupted Simmons.

‘No, of course not, I accept that – but there just might be some other way to exploit the difference.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know yet … I need to get a feel for it.’

Simmons felt sceptical but then said, ‘I was about to lecture you again about heading up blind alleys, but that’s what I thought last time and I was wrong.’ He paused for a moment to assess Gavin’s likely disappointed reaction if he turned him down, before saying, ‘Look, I’ll make a deal with you. If you’ll agree to give a seminar to the department about your work, I’ll give you three weeks to chase rainbows. Deal?

‘Deal.’

 

Gavin was talking to Mary Hollis when Simmons returned from lunch. He glanced in Gavin’s direction and said, ‘I told Jack,
Thursday
at 1 p.m. if that’s all right?’

Gavin nodded.

‘What was all that about?’ asked Mary.

‘I’m giving a seminar, on Thursday apparently.’

‘You? A seminar? Now I’ve heard it all. Is this something to do with a new you or does Frank have some dodgy negatives?’

‘Neither. One forty-minute seminar gets me three more
precious
weeks to work on Valdevan.’

‘But you’ve just told me why it can never work. What are you going to do?’

‘Make it work.’

Mary’s jaw fell open as she saw Gavin was serious. ‘Ye gods, Gavin. You’re nothing if not ambitious. Can I ask how, or is that a secret?’

‘I haven’t worked that out yet,’ said Gavin, holding up and
examining
the plastic bottle he’d just removed from the fridge door. ‘In fact, the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I’m going to need more Valdevan. I wonder if Frank would ask his contact. It would be quicker than writing.’

Gavin turned away and left Mary looking after him with an amused smile while he went to make his request to Simmons, who said that he’d actually been intending to call Grumman Schalk
anyway
. There were things he needed to ask about their new research grants scheme. He’d do it before lunch.

Gavin went on down to the tissue culture suite to wish the staff a happy new year and put in an order for more cell cultures.

‘Did you use all the ones I made for you just before the break?’ asked Trish.

‘Every last one,’ said Gavin, ‘And like I said, I’ll love you forever.’

‘And a day,’ Trish reminded him.

‘And a fortnight if you like. I got some really good results and you’ll be top of the acknowledgement list when the paper gets written.’

‘Always nice to be appreciated,’ said Trish, her cheeks colouring slightly. ‘I’ll give you a call when your cultures are ready. I take it you need both tumour and primary cells?’

‘That would be great.’

 

Frank Simmons’ intended phone call to Grumman Schalk had been precipitated by an internal mail message from Graham Sutcliffe to all academic staff, announcing a meeting on Tuesday to discuss their application for a block grant. Sutcliffe had formulated a draft over the break, but said he wanted to discuss it with his colleagues and add the finishing touches to it before sending it off. Time was of the essence, he stressed. Simmons took this to mean that any discussion would not be lengthy: Sutcliffe was looking for a rubber stamp. He thought that he might have more success in finding out about the conditions attached to such grants by asking Max Ehrman directly about company policy.

Simmons paused as he lifted the phone and wondered for a
moment
how much he should tell Ehrman about Gavin’s discovery. There was a need for tact and diplomacy over it. He didn’t know if Ehrman had had any personal involvement in the Valdevan project – probably not, but he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t feel some embarrassment, and maybe even a little resentment towards a
first-year
postgrad student who had succeeded where his company and all its resources had failed. He decided he’d have to play it by ear.

Max Ehrman was his usual helpful self, and proved only too happy to fill Simmons in on the conditions attached to his
company
’s new research grants scheme. As Simmons had suspected, the company
would
insist on the final say in whether or not results could be published. Simmons’ silence when Ehrman told him this prompted Ehrman to add, ‘This hasn’t proved to be too much of a problem in the past, Frank.’

‘I suppose it’s more potential problems I’m worried about.’

‘Well, there has to be some degree of symbiosis in all this,’ said Ehrman. ‘We’re not philanthropists and don’t pretend to be: we’re in the business to make money. On the other hand, we’re not
monsters
either. New discoveries can bring glory to researchers, relief to sufferers and profits to drug companies. Everybody wins.’

‘In a perfect world,’ said Simmons.

‘You worry too much, Frank,’ said Ehrman. ‘The chances are that such a conflict will never arise, and if it should, it would be resolved without bad blood.’

‘Mmm.’

‘How is your student getting along, the one who asked us for Valdevan?’

Simmons’ pulse rate rose a little and he felt his mouth go dry. ‘Fine, very well in fact. As we thought, it seems clear that the drug does target the S16 gene. Actually, I was just about to ask you for some more of the drug if that’s possible? Gavin mentioned this morning that he’s running low.’

‘Of course it is,’ laughed Ehrman. ‘We’re renowned for our
generosity
here at Grumman Schalk. By the way, I’m going to be coming to Edinburgh shortly. I’m attending the conference at Heriot Watt University at the beginning of February, and I’m also taking part in some TV programme that your BBC are doing. They’ve asked me to say something about the company’s range of anti-cancer drugs. No doubt we will be cast in the role of big bad profit-maker, but we’re used to that. I’ll do my best to convince them otherwise. Maybe we could meet up at some point and I could talk to your student?’

‘Of course. I’ll look forward to that. Our department is going to be involved in the programme too,’ said Simmons. ‘It would be really nice if we could all sit round the table and talk … maybe over some dinner?’

‘Great. I’ll keep you informed about dates.’

Simmons felt relieved. It would be much better to discuss Gavin’s work with him present and with everyone face to face in the same room.

A knock came at the door. It was Jack Martin. ‘I take it you’ve had Sutcliffe’s letter?’

Simmons nodded.

‘Ever felt you were being steam-rollered into something?’

‘I phoned Grumman Schalk this morning. If we got the block grant, all research carried out using their funding would have to be submitted to them for approval before we could publish.’

‘Just like you thought, so what do we do?’

‘Difficult. Sutcliffe wants to empire build and he’s really got the hots for Grumman Schalk money. He’s dangling the prospect of a couple of personal chairs in front of the senior staff to keep them onside, and the young ones will be keen to grab research money wherever it comes from, so he’s virtually got all the backing he needs. Any objections from us will go down like the
Titanic
.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘Be pragmatic,’ sighed Simmons. ‘Don’t get into a fight we can’t win?’

‘I suppose,’ agreed Martin. ‘Maybe brave gestures are best left to the young anyway. Has he said anything about a personal chair to you?’

Simmons shook his head. ‘You?’

Martin said not.

‘It’s my guess he’ll want to keep everyone guessing. If he picks two out at this stage he’ll figure the rest of us might gang up on him – for the most noble of reasons, of course.’

‘You know, for such a nice guy you really have quite an
impressive
grasp of human nature,’ said Martin.

‘And it doesn’t make for pretty reading.’

‘You’ll probably find a few more pointers at the meeting
tomorrow
. Did you tell your Gavin that he’s giving the internal seminar this week?’

‘I did.’

‘You don’t think he’s going to call off at the last minute with a headache?’

Simmons shook his head. ‘If he does, the trade-off gets
cancelled
. I said he could have another three weeks to work on his pet theories if he gave a seminar to the department.’

‘Like I said, an impressive grasp … How’s his work coming along?’

‘Brilliantly; you’ll hear all about it at the seminar.’

 

Gavin met Caroline at seven and they went to eat at a Mexican
restaurant
in Victoria Street, starting with margaritas while they waited.