Chapter 122
‘Thisprofile is wrong,’ Doyle said.
‘I told you, Poe!’ Bradshaw cried. ‘I had nowhere near enough data.’
‘Calm down, Tilly,’ Poe said. Then to Doyle, ‘All of it, or just part of it?’
‘First of all, Tilly, given what you had to go on, this’ – Doyle held up the profile – ‘is remarkably accurate.’
‘But we’ve got something wrong?’
‘More like you haven’t included something you had no way of knowing.’
‘Important?’
‘It entirely changes Freddie’s psychological profile.’
‘Frederick Beck was a fussy, self-important man,’ Doyle said, ‘but his pharmaceutical expertise in exploiting NCEs was unparalleled.’
‘NCEs?’ Mathers asked.
‘New chemical entities. They’re sourced through chemical synthesis or through the isolation of natural products. Not including animal venom, which has come on in leaps and bounds recently, there are four main natural products used in medicine: fungi, bacteria, marine, and Frederick’s particular expertise, botanical.’
Poe, Bradshaw, Flynn, Mathers and Doyle had grabbed a corner table in the hospital’s staff canteen. They all had hot drinks. Despite the late hour, Poe had persuaded the cook to rustle up a bacon sandwich. White bread, no sauce, lots of butter, lots of pepper. Perfect. Bradshaw grimaced each time he took a bite.
‘Tilly’s profile is entirely accurate in that he was driven by his ego,’ Doyle continued. ‘In his eyes, there’s nothing worse than being anonymous. Now, in the field of pharmaceutical research, a little bitof ego is not necessarily a bad thing – some of the best scientists in the world are driven, but appalling people. Arrogant, sexist, competitive. Belittling and bullying colleagues.’
‘Tilly’s profile says Beck was all these things,’ Flynn said.
‘He was. On one occasion he was asked to appear in front of the European Medicine Agency Committee for Medicinal Products for Human Use as he had refused to share credit on a piece of research. A woman had co-authored a paper with him, but before it was submitted he removed her name from the title page. Downplayed her role in the research to little more than a junior assistant.’
‘What happened?’
‘The company they worked for put pressure on her to withdraw the complaint,’ Doyle replied. ‘Said in-fighting didn’t reflect well on them. What wasn’t said was that Frederick had threatened to walk if he were forced to share credit. She was given a six-figure bonus and told to keep quiet.’
‘He had that much clout?’ Poe asked.
‘Motor neurone disease is a multi-billion-dollar market, and, although Frederick’s field, acquired Breeg–Bart syndrome, is relatively small, the company that brings the first effective drug to market will make hundreds of millions a year. When Frederick threatened to walk, they were left with a stark choice: insist the woman got the credit she deserved or protect their investment. For a company with shareholders, that’s no choice at all.’
‘If he was that much of a star, why wasn’t he working on one of the better-known motor neurone diseases?’ Mathers asked. ‘Is it true he sacrificed his career to work on a cure for his wife?’
‘We’re getting to the nub of the matter now,’ Doyle replied. ‘He was the leader in his field because he refused to play in anyone else’s and he wouldn’t let anyone play in his.’
‘He’d rather be a big fish in a small pond, you mean?’
‘Exactly. He chose to work in acquired Breeg–Bart syndrome so he could be the acknowledged expert. He wasn’t interested in being part of a big research push, didn’t want to be on a team. If anyone mentioned Breeg–Bart, in whatever context, he wanted Frederick Beck mentioned in the same sentence.’
Poe frowned. ‘But surely he chose to work in Breeg–Bart because of Melanie, his wife?’ he said.
‘Explain the timeline of events as you understand them, Poe,’ Doyle replied.
‘Which part?’
Doyle opened the profile. ‘Page eight,’ she said. ‘Meeting his wife and the subsequent discovery she had Breeg–Bart. The love story the press obsessed over.’
Poe had read the profile cover to cover and didn’t need his memory refreshing. ‘Sad story, really,’ he said. ‘They met while he was a general research assistant at a teaching hospital and she was a patient. I think she had collapsed on a night out. He met her as she was being discharged and they hit it off. I believe they were married within six months. She was diagnosed with Breeg–Bart two years later and that’s when he diverted all his energy and expertise into the disease.’
Doyle nodded. Held up the profile again. ‘That’s certainly what it says here,’ she agreed.