Bliss (4 page)

The current project was Bliss, and the impending FDA approval.

“How about the development period?” Brian Stanlow, the chief development officer asked. “How much shorter could we get that?”

Vetter shook his head. “Brian, we are past that point. One of the great things about Bliss that has accelerated its development is that it is completely nontoxic at any dosage. That will cinch FDA approval, since toxicity verification is what usually takes up all the waiting time.”

Stanton took a sip of his before-lunch martini. “So you’re saying we’ll get FDA approval, how much sooner?”

“I’m saying we’ll have FDA approval by the time Bliss is ready for market.”

Ralph Lamson, marketing assistant, cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be the skeptic here, but we’re barely on phase two. And the FDA only does expedited schedules for drugs that have undergone human trials for at least six months. And the last time I talked with Dr. Meyer, he’d just begun animal studies.”

Vetter nodded. “That’s true, but thanks to Meyer’s successor and her innovative approach, we’ve been able to circumvent a lot of unnecessary steps in the development of Bliss.”

Vetter looked over at Katherine Blair. “Katherine will give us a presentation this evening, on her progress.”

Vetter’s outward appearance didn’t hint at his ire at the direction the meeting had taken. For him, it was a matter of do or die. He had invested all the company’s money into its new headquarters, new equipment, new employees, and most impressive, a new community for many within the company. All while convincing stockholders that Bliss would pay them back in spades. He’d seen many other pharmaceutical companies, both large and small, invest millions, only to have their drug shot down by the FDA at the last minute.

But Stephen Vetter had an ace in the hole.

And he was counting on it to make himself very rich.
FDA be damned.

After the meeting, everyone headed for the pool or the bar. Several of the older men returned to their rooms, young girls in tow, Viagra in their pockets. Vetter went to his suite, where he picked up the telephone and placed a long distance call.

“Mr. Deldeo,” he said into the phone. “We need to meet. There’s a problem in Washington.”

The voice on the other end with the thick New York accent, sounded irritated.

“When? I’ve got some things of my own going on.”

“I’ll up the ante. Another two-grand. Can you meet me at my office tomorrow night around nine?”

“All right, I’ll be there.”

Vetter hung up the phone just as Katherine Blair walked in. He could tell she’d been listening.

“Problems?” she asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Vetter didn’t like her asking questions. Maybe it was a bad idea to get her involved. But she was the ideal candidate, and Vetter had known she’d be a willing participant. Especially because it gave her clout at Imec. She was power hungry. He’d recognized that from day one. So was he, maybe that’s why they clicked.

His gaze strayed to her long legs. Then he smiled. “Maybe we should have brought Lindsey to this meeting.”

Blair eyed him askance. “I don’t think she’s ready for that yet.”

“Katherine, you sound jealous.”

“Forget it, Stephen, she’s engaged. Besides, she’s not your type.”

Vetter leveled his eyes at her. “You’re right. But then... you weren’t my type at first either.”

“Things change,” Katherine Blair said.

Lindsey Walsh went rigid when
she heard the earsplitting crash. After she realized where it came from, she jettisoned her office chair and sprinted for the ladies room and shoved open the door. Paper towels littered the floor and someone had ripped the dispenser from the wall. Sprawled on the floor was a girl she recognized as Teresa Hagen, a lab worker and neighbor whom she’d met in the cafeteria. She lived a couple doors down from Lindsey.

She lay unconscious and blood gushed from her right ear. It appeared, she’d tried to grab the towel dispenser, as she’d felt herself falling.

“Help!” Lindsey yelled, her voice echoing off the tile walls.

Seconds later, two red-faced employees bolted into the bathroom and propped the girl’s head up on a jacket one was wearing. A security guard rushed through the door about the same instant. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Lindsey said. “I heard a crash and ran in here and found her this way.”

The guard shook his head. “She’s the second one this week to pass out. Must be this new building?”

A minute later, two company nurses filed in and took up positions next to the woman. One, a petite blond pulled out a cell phone and called the local ambulance, the other did a quick assessment and started an IV.

Lindsey backed away and looked down at Teresa Hagen. She was ashen. The blond nurse put an oxygen mask over Hagen’s nose and mouth.

Lindsey stood there thinking about the guard’s comment.
Sick Building Syndrome.
She’d heard about that. When airtight buildings containing new materials, many loaded with formaldehyde, caused workers to get sick in record numbers. That usually happened gradually, but this seemed to be of a sudden onset. She had just spoken with Teresa two days earlier, and she seemed to be in great spirits. Lindsey had noted how happy and carefree she’d acted.

After the ambulance arrived, Lindsey went back to her office. She sat at her desk, her hands shaking. The mayhem in the ladies room had left her anxious. She breathed deep, trying to calm herself. A moment later a knock sounded on her door.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Lindsey looked up to see Katherine Blair poking her head in.

“Of course not.”

“You look kind of pale, Lindsey.”

“I just had a very upsetting experience.”

Katherine furrowed her brow. “What happened?”

“Didn’t you hear about Teresa Hagen?”

“I heard someone fell in the bathroom.”

Lindsey exhaled. “I’m the one that found her. And it wasn’t just a fall. She didn’t look good at all. Something caused her to pass out. And the guard said she was the second one this week.”

“Did you say Teresa Hagen?” Katherine asked.

Lindsey nodded. “Yes.”

Katherine gave Lindsey a reassuring smile. “Well that explains it. The other one that the guard referred to suffers from the same malady as Teresa.”

Lindsey shifted in her chair. “And what is that?”

Katherine grinned now. “They’re both pregnant.”

Lindsey threw her hands up in the air. “Of course! That’s why she seemed so happy the other day when I talked to her. I hope she isn’t going to lose it. She took a pretty hard fall.”

“She was already awake, en route to the hospital. I heard the local gossip mongers in the hall on my way down here.”

“Thank God she’s okay,” Lindsey said.

“Anyway, I came down to ask you to dinner tonight. It will give us a chance to pick up where we left off the other day. I know this fabulous Tex-Mex place downtown. How bout it?”

“Sounds great. What time?”

“Meet you there at seven. I’ll write down the address for you. And by the way, you can pick up the results of your physical from medical, this afternoon.”

Lindsey gave a sheepish smile “Did I pass?”

“I don’t know. That’s confidential.” Katherine said. “Why, you’re not pregnant, are you?”

Lindsey giggled. “Not yet.”

A hard rain pounded the
earth as Frank “Murph” Deldeo barreled down Route 66 toward the Las Vegas city limits. He had the speedometer buried on the late model Lincoln and he had a cold beer in the cup holder. Things had taken an unexpected turn and now he needed to tidy them up for Vetter. He really didn’t like the guy all that much, but Vetter was paying him so much fucking money, it really didn’t matter.

He’d left his days of chasing delinquent debtors for Lou Salvano in New York, long behind him. Now, he could dine in the same restaurants as Salvano and flash the same kind of money.

He rocketed off the exit ramp toward the airport, and headed to the narrow access road. His instructions were to pick up two men at a private hanger there and take them to Las Vegas. At least that’s what the two men thought.

He had dealt with Applegate before, twice. The guy was as squirrelly as they came. But Vetter needed his cooperation. And Murph would see that he got it.

He came to an exit that said PRIVATE PLANES-- MAINTENANCE AND STORAGE. After following it for a mile, a row of hangers appeared where he could see corporate jets parked on the tarmac. He found the one he was looking for. Deldeo stood and admired the plane for a moment. A gleaming white Lear 260 with its oversized engines and upswept wingtips. The letters IMEC emblazoned in midnight blue on the fuselage.

Another one of Vetter’s toys.

He parked.

The rain stopped and a light fog drifted across the parking area. It smelled of diesel fuel and he could hear jets taking off in the background as he walked toward the plane. The steps were already down and he climbed up and into the cabin. Applegate and his associate sat in the front two seats, each holding a cocktail. A buxom blond attendant joked with the pilot as he shut down the engines and flipped on the cabin lights.

Murph smiled at the two men. “How was the flight?”

“Very comfortable,” Applegate’s associate said.

“Name’s Murph. I’ll be taking you into Vegas.”

“Everett Linhauer,” the man said. “I take it you know Robert?”

Murph nodded. “Yea, we’ve met.”

Applegate swallowed hard. “I’m ready anytime.”

Murph helped the two men take their bags to the car, then headed out of the airport.

“Excuse me,” Lindhaur said, leaning forward, “but aren’t you going the wrong way. I could swear that sign back there said Las Vegas was the other way.”

“Yea, you’re right. I have to get some gas up here. This tank guzzles it up.”

“Fifteen minutes later, Lindhaur was leaning over the seat again. “How much farther is this place? I’d like to get to the hotel sometime tonight.”

“Almost there.”

Murph turned off the main highway and onto a semi-paved road. In the pitch-blackness, the headlights cast an eerie glow into the empty desert. Murph slowed the car and came to a stop.

Lindhauer came forward “Say, what is this place. There’s no--”

“That’s enough out of you.” Murph stuck the barrel of a .45 in Lindhauer’s face.

Murph could see Applegate in the dash lights. He had turned clown-white, and his eyes bulged.

“Don’t worry, Bob. I’m not going to hurt you. Now as for your friend here... that’s a different story.”

Lindhauer looked at Applegate. “What’s he talking about? What is going on here, Robert? Is this some kind of joke?”

“Oh it’s no joke,” Murph said.

Lindhauer reached for the door handle. “I’m getting out of this car now!”

Applegate blocked his way. “I wouldn’t advise that.”

“Good thinking, Bob,” Murph said. “You want to explain to your friend here what’s going on.”

Applegate fell silent.

“Okay, then I’ll explain. You see. It’s very simple. Bob here made a deal with my boss, and you are getting in the way. And there is a lot of money at stake for everyone. Isn’t that right, Bob?”

Murph got out of the car and opened the trunk. He came back, yanked open the door and hauled Lindauer out. Then Applegate got out. “Hold this,” Murph said, and handed Applegate a shovel.”

The headlights illuminated the desert floor and Murph got behind the two men and shoved them forward.

“My God, man, can’t we work this out.”Applegate pleaded. “You can’t just kill him. People will wonder where he is. He’s a high-ranking government official for God’s sake.”

“I’m all impressed,” Murph said.

At that moment, Lindhauer turned and knocked the gun from Murph’s hand and bolted into the desert.

“What the fuc–” Murph snatched the gun off the ground and saw Lindhauer running about ten yards in front of them, still in the beam of the headlights.

What a dumb fuck.

Murph fired two shots and saw Lindhauer’s head explode upward on the second one. Applegate fell on the ground with his face in his hands.

“I can’t believe it,” he kept repeating.

Murph walked over to Applegate. “Get up. And bring that shovel.”

They got to Lindhauer’s body and Murph looked down. “That’s disgusting. Now bury him, and make it quick. And next time, you need to be more convincing when you require your colleague’s cooperation.”

Murph sat on a boulder and lit a cigarette while Applegate dug. He’d probably end up digging it himself. Applegate didn’t have the endurance for it. If it were up to Murph, he’d dig two holes and put Applegate in the other one. He took a drag off his cigarette and looked in the distance to the bright lights of Las Vegas, standing like a neon oasis against the desert blackness.

All things in good time.

There are roughly five thousand
pharmaceutical compounds stored in what the Imec research scientists affectionately call, “The Pharm Room.” Every thing from Asperiligus Insemonta, a chemical used in anesthetics, to Zochrome sodium, a highly toxic extract from the digitalis plant. Day in and day out, the scientists there tested one compound after another, always hoping to find the right combination to create a new unknown drug. Despite the fact Imec was about to release a revolutionary medicine, it didn’t stop the research teams from looking for the next one.

Stephen Vetter let himself inside with his pass card. Just above his head, a white-lettered sign read:

PHARMACEUTICAL COMPOUNDS

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

“Fuck that,” Vetter grumbled.

He was authorized personnel. He peered down the hall before closing the door. He knew the cleaning staff was still there, and although he could easily explain his presence, he still would rather not arouse any suspicion.

The room was a sterile looking, forty-foot-long rectangle, with lab counters running down the center. All types of lab glassware occupied every square inch of space. Along the right-hand wall, numerous stainless-steel drawers lined the wall and climbed eight feet toward the ceiling. A moveable ladder slid on a metal track, which allowed access to each drawer. On the adjacent wall, ten computer stations sat with their hard drives still humming. During the day, huge skylights let in the brilliant Arizona sun, to keep use of interior lighting to a minimum.