The Best of British Crime omnibus (33 page)

‘Very few,' Treasure corrected. ‘He supports Bob, but possibly only because Bob is too determined to be persuaded otherwise. More to the point, the bank goes along with Bob.'

‘Well I know Bob's the big noise in the company, but it's Doctor Bodlin who discovers the new drugs. If he doesn't believe Closter is big enough, why does he stay?'

‘For several reasons. Seromig and the other new development formulas are patented in the company's name not his.'

‘Is that fair?'

‘Entirely. He discovered them in company time, and he's paid handsomely to do just that.'

‘So why didn't he join a big company in the first place?'

‘Because eight years ago, when he was thirty-two, Closter offered him his present job, with a totally free hand. He liked the title of Research Director and the terms. At that time he was an unknown academic and wouldn't have got either in a big company.'

‘But he's changed his tune now?'

‘For responsible reasons, and perhaps for the added personal one that in the interim he's acquired a successful track record. If he was in a big company now he'd no doubt be given a grand title and a free hand.'

‘And that can't happen still?'

‘It could.' He paused. ‘Once Closter becomes a public company, any of the major drug manufacturers could make a takeover bid for it. A predator would find it costly, of course. At Grenwood, Phipps we're placing a substantial block of the shares with our main customers. After the flotation, they and the Closter directors will hold fifty-five per cent of the issued shares between them. They'll be looking for income and long-term growth, not a quick resale for profit. Except at a very sexy price indeed.'

‘So anyone wanting to take over Closter would have to offer a lot more than a hundred and ten pence for the shares?'

‘I'll say.'

‘If it happened though, would it mean that Closter directors would have to be talked into selling their shares?'

‘That's a possible scenario. But not the likeliest.' Treasure pulled a face. ‘No, I really can't imagine a circumstance where all the directors would be ready to sell.'

‘But if there were a takeover, the Closter directors with the larger holdings who make big fortunes next week could make even bigger ones? Could be why they've held out against selling so far.'

‘Bob Larden, you mean? And Hughie McFee?' Treasure chuckled, shaking his head. ‘I'm glad they can't overhear this conversation. Darling, your imagination is running away with us. Must be the lemon juice. I really don't believe anything dramatic is going to happen to Closter Drug. Other than a successful flotation, of course.'

But for once the banker was seriously wrong.

‘Doctor Ricini, it says in the handout that preventive treatment of migraine's been favoured in the past. That's because treatment after an attack's started is too late.' The speaker was male, old and paunchy, with a persistent cough. He was ‘London Correspondent' for several small provincial newspaper groups, which meant the food and drink he consumed at news conferences was usually worth more than he was paid for his reports. He was in the front row, balancing a glass of amber fluid on a folder of information from Closter Drug. ‘Is that the reason why Seromig is going to be a preventive treatment too?'

‘Not quite.' Mary Ricini responded with a bright smile. She was in the left end chair, facing the audience, of the row of five behind the table. Next to her stood the wooden rostrum where she and a nervous Stuart Bodlin, now sitting beside her, had earlier made formal presentations. ‘Seromig could have gone either way. Preventive or acute treatment. It still could, in the sense it's going to be a valuable therapy in both areas. As I said before,' she went on, wishing the questioner had been listening more carefully the first time, ‘Seromig can provide quick relief at the start of an attack. Especially if injected, or given through a nasal inhaler. In one group of patients it arrested attacks in an average of twelve minutes. That's fast, but perhaps not fast enough.' She paused to gauge response to the premise, but there didn't appear to be one. ‘In contrast, in two other groups of patients in the same trial series, Seromig in tablet form taken regularly over a two-year period eliminated migraine altogether in seventy-eight per cent of regular sufferers.'

‘So why aren't you pushing it just as a long term treatment?' asked a barely audible, drab young woman in the second row. She was from
Tween
magazine (advertised as ‘for girls in their teens who think over twenty').

‘We're not pushing Seromig. It hasn't been marketed yet. When it is, it'll only be available on prescription. We'll detail it to doctors. Definitely no pushing,' corrected Dermot Hackle, leaning forward with the devastating smile that was almost guaranteed to captivate impressionable women of all ages. He was seated at the other end of the table from Mary Ricini, next to Bob Larden. Treasure was in the centre.

On the wall beyond the directors a banner announced CLOSTER DRUG in red letters two feet high on a solid yellow background, while on either side there were portable display stands exhibiting promotion material, and packs of the company's products.

‘I meant, why bother researching it for acute attacks if it's so spot-on for the other,' the
Tween
woman responded, blinking several times, and reddening slightly: one hand moved subconsciously to improve the arrangement of a single lank curl hanging over one of her ears.

‘Because although a regular daily dose of Seromig promises to eliminate migraine for most sufferers, we have to be certain that over the long term it won't inhibit natural chemical processes in the blood.' This was the woman Medical Director again. ‘Really it's a matter of finding the right dosage.'

‘So it's dangerous in the wrong dosage?'
Tween
returned suspiciously and more loudly.

‘Not dangerous, except in massive overdose. But that applies to most drugs. Including aspirin.' Bob Larden had taken the question. ‘As Doctor Bodlin explained earlier, Seromig is a synthesised variant of 5HT, a natural body substance. That's the transmitter we believe triggers the headache in migraine by expanding the blood vessels. Seromig, chemically known to us as 5HT7, neutralises this painful effect by constricting the blood vessels. That's the simplest explanation I can give you. But natural 5HT also has useful actions that we don't want to cancel out while we stop the migraine with an antagonist.'

‘But the production of pain is a useful action too? A warning to the body, no?' The question had come in a husky voice and a German-American accent from a stylish young woman in a black beret, worn coquettishly over straight, sculpted dark hair. She had risen to speak from behind the others. The beret was setting off a crisp, red and white check shirt loosely clasped with a wide black belt over tailored black trousers. The wearer had come in after the presentation had started, and wasn't wearing one of the badge-stickers given out at the door: Treasure speculated that she probably worked for a fashion magazine.

‘To say pain is a warning is a relative truth.' It was Larden who answered again. ‘But you wouldn't get many migraine sufferers to accept it as just that.'

The reply brought a murmur of sympathetic approval, also a nasty coughing fit from the already florid ‘London Correspondent'.

‘And the clinical tests you haven't published yet. Are they going to confirm that you've found the safe dosage for acute and prophylactic treatments?' asked a donnish young man from
The Times
.

The
Tween
girl's eyes narrowed at the use of the word prophylactic.

‘Naturally our aim is to find the safe and correct dosage,' said Dr Ricini carefully.

Most observers would have considered the attendance at the news conference to be disappointing – only a dozen reporters from the consumer press (the medical press hadn't been invited), no photographers, a man from the Press Association, no one from BBC radio, one from commercial radio who had left early, and none from television.

Penny Cordwright was worried about how long she could expect to keep the Closter PR business after failing to stimulate a better showing than this. She was a big bossy woman with a flowered blouse, a loud voice and a frenetic manner. She was hovering near the door at the back, still on the lookout for latecomers.

In contrast, Mark Treasure was relieved at the poor turn-out. It was clear from the numbers and quality of those who had come – and, more to the point, those who hadn't – that editors had not considered the occasion important. For reasons of his own, the banker supported their view.

The paucity of the attendance was also emphasised by the size of the room. It was on the first floor of the New Connaught Rooms in Great Queen Street – one of the biggest banqueting venues in London. By Connaught Rooms standards, the room was one of the smallest on offer, but would still have taken many times the number present for the advertised programme, which included drinks, a presentation followed by questions, then more drinks and a stand-up buffet lunch.

It was now after one o'clock. Treasure was hoping he could soon declare formal question time closed and the buffet open.

‘And migraine is caused by something in the blood not something in the brain?' asked the earnest, middle-aged cookery correspondent from the
Daily Gazette
whose daughter suffered from migraine: she had come for that reason, and because the medical correspondent of the paper hadn't been interested.

Stuart Bodlin cleared his throat. The others at the table looked to him expectantly. ‘Opinion is still divided on the root causes of migraine. Nobody knows the cause for sure,' he uttered in a more confident tone than he had used at the rostrum. ‘But current thinking has veered to the idea that the aetiology is almost certainly vascular not neurological. Which applies equally to common migraine and to classic migraine with aura. That's why we've been searching for a very restrictive vasoconstrictor.'

All of this indicated that the Research Director communicated with a lay audience even less well without a prepared script than he did with one. The stony silence that greeted his accurate but, to most of the listeners, fairly meaningless pronouncement gave Treasure the opportunity he needed.

‘If there are no more questions— ' he began.

‘Will Closter Drug make a lot of money out of Seromig?' the
Tween
girl interrupted, spurred perhaps by the earlier question from the latecomer.

‘If everything goes according to plan, and if Seromig is as successful as we expect, it could be one of the most important fifty drugs in the world,' Dermot Hackle supplied blandly.

‘Can we have that in round cash terms?' asked ‘London Correspondent', loosening his trousers with a violent tug at the crutch.

‘Impossible at the moment. But it should be a very significant export earner for Britain,' said Larden.

‘But you're not alone in the field. Aren't there two other manufacturers researching similar formulas?' asked the Press Association man who had been taking more notes than the others.

‘Similar, but not the same. And we believe we're some way ahead of the competition.' This was the Managing Director again.

‘And are you announcing Seromig now, before it's ready, to give a boost to your flotation next week?' demanded the black bereted girl.

‘Certainly not.' Larden had spoken after a sideward nod from Treasure. ‘The report of the first major clinical trials was scheduled to appear in the medical press last Monday. It's been delayed by a week, but the arrangement was made long before the date of the flotation was agreed. This news conference was called as a courtesy to you and your subscribers. The timing is coincidental. You must know too that the invitations were sent to medical correspondents not City editors.'

This failed to evoke better than: ‘That's not a very convincing answer, but never mind,' from the questioner, who went on: ‘Can Doctor Bodlin tell us whether in your expensive search for a treatment for migraine you ever considered the merits of the humble feverfew?'

‘I wonder if we might know who you are and who you represent?' Treasure interjected firmly, and irritated by the insult to Larden.

‘Sure. I'm Kirsty Welling. I suppose you could say I am representing the feverfew lobby. Actually I am working for
Natural World Tomorrow
.'

‘Thank you, I'll make a point of getting a copy.' The banker smiled.

‘For the benefit of anyone who doesn't know,' said Mary Ricini, ‘feverfew is a white flowering, hedgerow plant. It's been used by herbalists for centuries.' She paused to let the information register. ‘There are substances in feverfew which may well inhibit the release of natural 5HT in the body. But nobody's been able to isolate or evaluate them.'

‘But you know those substances work?'

‘We know they sometimes work in some people. The efficacy of feverfew in commercial form varies a lot. This has to do with the different methods of manufacture, and the varying shelf life of the products.'

‘Have you ever experimented with feverfew on animals, Doctor Bodlin?' Kirsty Welling persisted after switching a wide-eyed, penetrating gaze from Dr Ricini to the Research Director.

‘No. Why should I?'

‘Would you have needed to if you'd seriously thought of it as the natural, obvious cure for migraine?'

‘I might have done. The circumstance isn't likely.' Bodlin leaned forward, adjusting his spectacles on his nose so that they focused better on his attractive if discomforting questioner. ‘We haven't been researching feverfew. So far as we're concerned, it has no future as a reliable treatment for migraine.'

Larden whispered an aside to Treasure who nodded before saying: ‘I think perhaps that's enough on feverfew. So unless— '