FanStory.com - The Devil Fights Back

Recap of Chapter 4: Fran decides to ignore her boss’s orders and begins to investigate on her own. She has a theory of the case and visits her friend Patty, a computer expert and hacker, who provides her with a list of phone calls for Fran’s chief suspect, Kevin Glazer.

Fran discovers a call to Kevin from a woman named Brittany who works at the US patent office, which confirms Fran’s suspicion that that’s how the secret of Dipraxa had gotten out—from Brian’s initial patent on it. Fran surmises that Brittany copied Brian’s patent file and gave it to Kevin for money. Kevin probably then sold the secret to an interested buyer. Now she must come up with a plan to prove it.

Chapter 5

Dana

When Fran Pekarsky left the bar, I decided to have one more drink before leaving myself. I signaled to the waitress for another cosmo. It would be my fourth. I needed to be a little drunk to be in the mood for the return of my likely randy husband in an hour or so. He was out with some of his friends from the conference this evening, probably at some titty bar where he’d be getting himself worked up for later.

Although I’m still reasonably attractive for a 58-year-old, he looks well beyond his 60 years. His hair is thinning rapidly, and, as his hairline retracts, his belly expands. We used to have pretty good sex together, but it’s no longer a high priority with either of us most of the time. Tonight, though, will likely be an exception, at least for him, so I must prepare for the ordeal.

It was nice to spend time with another woman. I enjoyed Fran’s company and was happy I was able to help lift her mood. I’m not sure I believed her story about being an IT security consultant. She didn’t look the part at all. She was quite buff, and I could tell she was packing* from the slight bulge beneath her jacket. I notice these things because I pack myself.

None of these little cans of mace or pepper spray for me. Some guy attacks me—I plan to disable him permanently. I think she was a cop of some sort, probably a police detective, maybe even a Fed.

And that question about Glyptophan. That was out of the blue. Funny she should have mentioned it, though. I knew a fair amount more about it than I let on.

My company, Newman-Price, is one of the five largest pharmaceutical companies in the US, but our financial picture isn’t so good right now. In the past year, two of our biggest sellers were banned by the FDA for a string of deaths in each case. Our legal staff spent a fortune in attempting to prove these deaths were not caused by the drugs but were due to other risk factors and comorbidities in the patients who died. They may have even been right about that, but the end result was that both drugs were taken off the market.

One of our vice presidents came to the marketing department the other day and sat me and my boss down with the following announcement:

“Look, guys, there’s a new analgesic drug called Glyptophan that just passed phase-1 trials with flying colors. This drug promises to replace opioids as the number one painkiller for severe pain—both acute and chronic. We can’t let that happen. We just lost our top two sellers, and our opioid is now our number one seller. If we lose that, we’re going under.

“Now, here’s what we’re going to do: I want you to instruct your sales reps never to mention Glyptophan, but if their customers bring it up, they are to say that the side effects from the human trials were terrible and that the drug will never make it through the human trials and come to market.”

I interrupted him and said, “I read about that trial. According to the article, all 80 participants experienced tremendous pain relief, and the side effects only began at the highest range of doses. Isn’t that to be expected in the phase-1 trials of any new drug? That’s one of the main purposes of the phase-1 trials—to see what the maximum tolerable dose is.”

“Whose side are you on, Dana? I know that, and you know that, but our reps and our customers don’t need to know that. As far as they’re concerned, they just need to know there were bad side effects. That’s all I want the reps to say, capisce?”

He left then. I turned to my boss and said, “That’s awfully devious, even for him, don’t you think?”

“C’mon, Dana. That’s the only way to succeed in this business. We’ve been beaten to the punch, but we’re not going to go down without a fight.”

“That’s just—”

“Look, Dana. To quote a famous slogan: ‘Just do it.’”

I knew then that if I wanted to keep my job, I had to comply. It’s no wonder Big Pharma has the reputation it has.

When I finished my fourth drink, it was time to head up to my room. Now I finally felt numb enough to face Romeo when he returns in a little while.

Marie

After some real soul-searching, I decided I would make the trip to Charlotte to attend the christening of my grandson. What did she say his name was? John? I think that was it. How original! Probably one of the most common names there is if you include all the Juans infesting the country now. I wouldn’t mind if that orange-haired dictator in the White House kept that particular promise—to round ‘em up and send ‘em back. Not just the Juans, of course, but all of ‘em. I didn’t vote for the man, but I sure agree with that policy.

My phone pinged then, indicating a text. It was from Julia, who just sent me her address and a few details about the christening.

That’s another thing. When did she get religion? She never got it from her father and me. I’ve always been an atheist. Robert claimed to be agnostic. Must have been that drug addict husband of hers who brainwashed her. And now they’re going to fill that poor child’s head with a bunch of religious nonsense.

Look at that address too: 1441 Mauney Farm Rd. in Cherrywood, North Carolina. Where the hell is that? They must’ve moved from Charlotte. I had to look the place up on Google Maps. I opened the app, typed in the address, and switched to satellite view. Holy shit! The place is out in the boonies! Is that a barn just down the road?

I zoomed in on their address and switched to street view. I was surprised; their house is actually pretty nice for a locale like this! It looks new and modern and large. Here in New York, say, in Westchester, that house would cost around $3 million. I wonder what it’s worth down there? I know Julia makes a good income as a soloist, but this house is something else. She’s just full of surprises. Maybe that addict husband of hers is a big-time drug kingpin now.

Well, I guess I’ve made up my mind to go. My curiosity has gotten me, if nothing else.

I used to be the concertmaster of the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra for a number of years before moving to New York, so I thought I knew the area pretty well. Their home isn’t too far from Charlotte, but I’ve never heard of this dinky Cherryville. Why on earth did they choose to move there?

Several days later, I texted Julia back and told her I’d be coming. I sent her the trip itinerary and told her I’d rent a car at the airport. It’s 30 miles from the airport to her house—too far for an Uber. She offered to pick me up at the airport, but I said no. I may want to visit a few old friends while there, so a rental car would be best. I planned to stay for a few days.

Julia offered to have me stay at their house, and I did take her up on that because there are no decent hotels anywhere near Cherryville.

I’ve decided I will be gracious when Julia apologizes to me for what she said 13 years ago. I guess there’s no point in carrying this on any further, and maybe it’s time for a reconciliation after all.

In two weeks, I was packed and ready to go. I planned to stay with Julia for three days—if we could last that long together.

I phoned Cedric at his desk downstairs.

“Yo, Ms. Schmidt.”

“It’s Dr. Schmidt, Cecil.”

“It’s Cedric, ma’am.”

“Whatever.”

This is a little game we play now. “Did you get me the cab like I asked last night. I’ll be down shortly.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s waiting for you now.”

“Make sure he doesn’t leave, would you?”

“I’ll plant myself in front of it, Ms. Schmidt.”

“Thank you, Cecil.”