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Authors: Ken McClure

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‘Are you kidding? It didn’t work then and it doesn’t work now, and you were instrumental in showing us why not.’

‘I know, but we can exploit the membrane damage it causes in tumour cells.’ Gavin went on to explain his findings.

Ehrman seemed stunned. The silence seemed to go on for ever.

‘Max?’

‘I’m still here. Well, you’ve really given me something to think about, Gavin. I think I’d like to get back to you later if that’s all right. I need to discuss this with my colleagues. But congratulations on an intriguing piece of work.’

Gavin felt deflated. He’d expected a bit more enthusiasm from Ehrman, but told himself that this would probably come later when the company had had time to digest what he’d discovered. Frank Simmons wasn’t in his office when Gavin went to tell him about the call, but he returned shortly afterwards with Graham Sutcliffe in tow. ‘I thought you should tell Graham about your discovery,’ said Simmons. ‘It’s going to affect everyone.’

‘Sure,’ said Gavin, noting again the coldness in Sutcliffe’s eyes, although he was affecting a smile.

The three men sat in Simmons’ office while once more Gavin went through his work. Simmons looked to Sutcliffe for a response when he was finished.

‘Well, I must say, this is all very interesting,’ said Sutcliffe, giving the impression that he didn’t know quite what to say and needed time to get his thoughts in order – not that this stopped him
talking
. ‘Of course, I need hardly say … I must advise caution at this stage. These are lab results … and as such, are a world away from the human situation … or even animal trials … and as you yourselves say, they are also based on two drugs, one of which has already failed and another which has proved to be highly toxic …’

‘This is a brilliant finding,’ said Simmons.

‘It’s very encouraging,’ conceded Sutcliffe.

Gavin watched and listened to the verbal battle without
contributing
to it. Frank kept trying to ignite the flames of enthusiasm in Sutcliffe, while Sutcliffe kept dousing the fire with negativity.

‘This is the sort of thing that should be in your BBC programme. This is real breakthrough material,’ said Simmons, still trying to persuade Sutcliffe.

‘I take it you have informed Grumman Schalk?’ Sutcliffe asked Gavin.

‘I’ve just spoken to Professor Ehrman. He’s going to confer with his colleagues and get back to me.’

‘Let’s wait for that then, shall we?’

Seeing that Gavin was looking a bit down when Sutcliffe left the room, Simmons said, ‘The professor comes from a background where showing any kind of emotion is a no-no.’

‘Public school tosser,’ said Gavin.

‘Not exactly what I meant,’ said Simmons. ‘But perhaps
something
along those lines.

‘Don’t let it get to you, Gavin. Both Valdevan and the
polymyxin
drugs have already been through the trials and licensing process. They don’t need to go through it again to be used together or consecutively. It just needs Grumman Schalk to put Valdevan back into production and then the medics can try it out.’

Gavin cheered up noticeably.

‘Let me know when Max has been back in touch.’

SIXTEEN
 
 

Gavin reappeared in Frank Simmons’ office shortly after 4 p.m. He looked ashen.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I can’t believe it. Grumman Schalk say we should forget the whole thing.’

Simmons’ mouth fell open. ‘You have to be joking.’

‘They say that it’s probably just a lab artefact and that there’s no way they’d ever consider putting Valdevan back into production. Apart from that, they say that treating patients with polymyxin would be a non-starter because of the toxicity. The bottom line is that I should forget the whole thing and “move on”.’

‘No way,’ exclaimed Simmons. ‘What the hell are they playing at? Didn’t you tell them that it would only be a low dose of
polymyxin
that would be required?’

Gavin nodded. ‘Several times. They didn’t seem to want to know.’

‘This is crazy.’

A knock came at the door and Jack Martin came in with the new term’s seminar schedule. ‘Long faces,’ he said as he laid a copy on Simmons’ desk.

‘Sit down and listen to this,’ said Simmons. ‘We’ve just had Grumman Schalk’s response to Gavin’s discovery.’

Gavin told him what the company had said.

‘You’re kidding,’ exclaimed Martin. ‘Ye gods, you’d think they’d be jumping down your throat to get something like this up and running.’

‘I just don’t get it,’ said Simmons, getting to his feet and looking as if he didn’t know what to do with his arms. ‘How can one of the biggest drug companies in the world not be interested in curing cancer?’

‘Who did you speak to at GS?’ Martin asked Gavin.

‘Max Ehrman.’

‘Then it wasn’t as if you were speaking to the office boy.’

The three men lapsed into silence before Martin suddenly said, ‘Wait a minute; how old is Valdevan?’

‘I don’t know, maybe something like twenty to twenty five years since it first hit the market. Why?’ said Simmons.

‘It’s out of patent!’ exclaimed Martin, as if he’d just solved a
particularly
difficult crossword clue. The others just looked at him.

‘I’m trying to think like a businessman,’ explained Martin. ‘Apart from the obvious difficulties of trying to reintroduce a product that’s already failed, the drug’s out of patent. That’s why they don’t want to hear anything about it. Any company could make it now. They’ve no longer got the monopoly on Valdevan. It’s anybody’s to manufacture!’

Simmons looked at him incredulously. ‘You’re saying that they’re not interested in a potential cure for cancer because they can’t make money out of it?’

‘That’s about the size of it.’

‘What about saving lives? Doesn’t that matter to them?’

There was another silence in the room.

‘I’ve heard some stories about drug companies, but this is
outrageous
. We can’t let them get away with this,’ said Simmons angrily. ‘For God’s sake, their whole business is curing disease.’

Martin shook his head indulgently. ‘No, Frank, their whole business is making money and keeping their shareholders happy, just like any other commercial concern.’

‘Then we’ll hunt around and get another company to make the stuff if it’s out of patent like you say.’

Martin looked doubtful. ‘It’s my bet that none of them will touch it. They’ve got too much to lose. Think about it. What do you think will happen to sales of their current chemotherapy drugs if you go wiping out cancer with a compound that anyone can make? They all stand to lose a bundle. Incurable disease and chronic illness are big earners for the pharmaceutical industry, much more so than any condition they can cure.’

‘Couldn’t we get the government to make the stuff?’ asked Gavin.

‘That might be your only hope,’ agreed Martin. ‘Why don’t you guys talk to Unived? They’re supposed to be the bridge in this university between academic discovery and the wicked world of commerce, but you’d better keep Graham informed of what you’re doing. That’s one loop he wouldn’t care to be left out of.’

‘Thanks, Jack,’ said Simmons. ‘We’ll do that.’

Martin left to continue his rounds with the seminar lists, Gavin returned to the lab and Simmons picked up the internal phone book.

‘Unived. How can I help?’ asked a pleasant female voice.

‘This is Dr Frank Simmons at the med school. I need to speak to someone about some work one of my postgraduate students has been doing.’

‘One moment. I’ll put you through to Mr Chalmers.’

A pause, then, ‘John Chalmers.’

‘Mr Chalmers? I’ll come straight to the point. I think one of my students has come up with a possible cure for cancer. Can we talk?’

There was another slight pause before the reply came. ‘You know, I think I’ve been waiting all my career for a call like this.’

A meeting was set up for the following morning.

 

Simmons and Gavin drove over in Simmons’ car to the Unived
offices
on the university’s science campus at King’s Buildings. They made the journey in silence, in the aftermath of an early morning meeting with Graham Sutcliffe, who had appeared to be siding with Grumman Schalk. ‘It stands to reason that you can’t go injecting all sorts of failed rubbish and toxic compounds into people simply
because
you saw something in a test tube,’ he had maintained. ‘It’s far too early to go over the top about this. There are proper procedures to be followed, permissions to be obtained, trials to be set up.’

Simmons felt he couldn’t say what he really thought about Sutcliffe’s stance to a postgraduate student, and Gavin kept quiet for similar reasons of protocol, although he did permit himself the occasional sigh and shake of the head as thoughts of the meeting continued to prey on his mind.

John Chalmers, an overweight, avuncular man dressed in a smart suit and tie – in contrast to Gavin and Simmons in their denim jeans and open-necked shirts – welcomed them to his
well-appointed
office which, as Simmons noticed, was remarkably free of the clutter he was used to in his own office, and where venetian blinds offered striped shade from the morning sunshine. They were served coffee and Gavin was invited to tell all.

‘Sounds absolutely wonderful,’ said Chalmers. ‘A historic
moment
, you might say. But let me get this straight … neither of these drugs is new?’

‘They’ve both been around for a very long time,’ said
Simmons
. ‘It’s the way of using them that would be new, and the theory behind it.’

‘Mmm,’ said Chalmers. ‘So it’s not a new treatment we’d be selling … it’s a new technique … a new idea …’

‘We’re not interested in selling anything,’ said Simmons curtly. ‘We’d like to see the medics try this out as quickly as possible.’

‘Of course you would,’ said Chalmers, smiling indulgently as if the two men in front of him were babes in his particular wood. ‘But outside your ivory tower, chaps, things are different. Some of us have to live …’

‘In the real world. Yes, whatever that is,’ interrupted Simmons. ‘We just want this treatment to be given its chance.’

‘Of course, of course, I understand that,’ said Chalmers, holding up his hands. ‘But you must appreciate that it’s my job to protect the university’s financial interests in all of this. I would be failing in my job if I didn’t put certain safeguards in place. There are a lot of sharks out there.’

Simmons kept his tongue in check and Gavin managed to do the same, although the look in his eyes suggested it might be a close-run thing. ‘Of course,’ he said.

‘It seems to me that even if we have no right to patent any single component of the new treatment, there might well be a case for patenting the intellectual property – the idea if you like – but I’m no lawyer. I’ll have to pass this on to my colleagues, but I promise you I’ll do this as quickly as possible and get straight back to you. All right?’

‘I suppose it’ll have to be,’ said Simmons.

As they got into the car to drive back to the medical school, Simmons turned to Gavin and said, ‘Well done.’

‘What for?’

‘Not decking him.’

‘Only because I thought you were going to,’ said Gavin.

It brought the first and only laugh of the day.

It was Wednesday afternoon when Chalmers called back. ‘I’ve just had the report from our legal eagles. They think it might fly, but intellectual property is a tricky area. They’re going to have to refer the whole thing to specialist lawyers.’

‘Good,’ said Simmons. ‘How long will this take?’

‘Hard to say, but first things first, we need to get university approval for the application. Patent lawyers don’t come cheap. I’ll have to request the official go-ahead from Old College.’

‘Jesus,’ sighed Simmons. ‘And how long will that take?’

‘End of the week if I stress the urgency.’

‘I take it you heard that?’ Simmons asked Gavin who was sitting in his office. Gavin nodded. ‘Good to hear he’s going to stress the urgency,’ he said flatly.

‘Well, we’ll just have to grin and bear it. I suggest you go on with your experiments – establish the lowest doses possible of both drugs, and try to calculate the doses necessary to give to patients to achieve these levels. See what you can glean from old papers on polymyxin.’

‘Will do,’ said Gavin.

‘I’m going to try and persuade Graham to incorporate your stuff in the BBC programme. There’s nothing like a bit of publicity for concentrating people’s minds.’

It was late afternoon before Simmons could see Graham
Sutcliffe
, who had been acting as co-examiner in a PhD viva exam for one of the students downstairs. On hearing Simmons’ request he immediately voiced his reservations again, insisting that
publicity
would be premature and that proper procedures had to be followed.

Simmons listened politely until impatience overtook him and he interrupted. ‘I’m sorry, Graham, but you are missing the point here. Both Valdevan and polymyxin already have licences for human use – they’ve been through clinical trials and have been licensed for use both here and by the FDA in the USA. There is nothing to stop physicians trying this new treatment – if only they could get their hands on a supply of clinical grade Valdevan.’

BOOK: Hypocrite's Isle
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