Chapter 13

During the next week Andrew was totally preoccupied with the research seminar that the department was holding and which he was expected to attend. It was a full schedule and Andrew struggled to keep awake whilst speaker after speaker presented their research. The details went over Andrew’s head and he would have gladly dozed off had he not caught Jeffrey glancing at him from time to time to make sure he was paying attention.

On the Wednesday evening, he turned on his mobile phone which had been off all day. There was a message from Brendan to call him back which he did from the car on the way home.

‘Thanks for getting back to me Andrew,’ Brendan’s voice came over the car’s speakers. ‘I’ve got some interesting information for you. It’s about Winston. I’m sure now that he was involved.’

It took Andrew twenty to twenty-five minutes to drive home from Prince Charles, sometimes longer if the traffic was heavy, which it often was. That evening it took thirty-five minutes and Brendan spoke for every minute of the trip.

Brendan had managed to find out, he wouldn’t tell Andrew how, that Winston Heathfield had got his company into serious debt funding the Amaradine trial. The figure was somewhere in the vicinity of five million dollars and Winston had to put the company and all his personal assets up as collateral. The company’s cash flow was down and Winston was struggling to meet the interest payments on the loans. The banks were getting restless and were threatening to call the loans in, which would have effectively bankrupted Winston and left him with nothing.

In the meantime the Amaradine trial was proceeding, with no result expected for some months yet. Winston was getting desperate. The big drug companies were circling, hoping to pick up WH Pharmaceuticals at a bargain basement price.

And then, much earlier than expected, the trial concluded and the results were released. The trial was positive, strongly so and Winston had his blockbuster drug and all his financial worries were over.

‘Very interesting Brendan,’ Andrew said. ‘Winston must have leaned on Jeffrey. Then the unexpected extra twenty patients appear, all in a short space of time and the trial comes out positive. It all makes sense.’

‘Thought you would be interested Andrew. Another piece in the jigsaw puzzle. This is not proof mind you. You still have to get someone to talk. Good luck with that.’

‘Thanks Brendan. I’ll keep you posted.’

Andrew disconnected the phone just as his car was pulling into his driveway. He went in. The house was dark, cold and quiet. Lisa was on afternoon shift. He rang for a pizza which he consumed with two glasses of red from a half-full bottle which he found next to the kitchen sink. He was exhausted and had fallen asleep before Lisa arrived home at 10pm.

The next two days were filled with the research seminar which Andrew managed to sit through mostly.

On Monday it was back to the normal routine. Andrew planned to speak to Walter Long sometime during that week. On the Tuesday he found himself with an hour for lunch, something that rarely happened. He headed off to the staff cafeteria where he knew he would find Walter.

Walter Long had lunch in the cafeteria every day between one and two. He ate alone, always. He sat at the same table reading a book over lunch and no one, except in the case of an emergency, would disturb him during that time.

Andrew had his lunch, a garden salad and a mineral water on his tray. He spotted Walter at his usual table and headed over to him. Like everyone else, Andrew knew that Walter did not like to be disturbed during lunch but he approached nevertheless.

‘Mind if I join you Walter?’

Walter Long looked up angrily. But when he saw Andrew his face broke into a smile.

‘Sure Andrew. Sit down. Haven’t seen you in ages. Be great to catch up.’

Noticing Andrew’s tray, he added, ‘Not much of a lunch Andrew. How will that keep you going all afternoon?’

Andrew noticed that Walter’s plate had on it a half-eaten meat pie, a few roast potatoes covered in gravy and a mound of peas.

‘Not very hungry today,’ was Andrew’s reply.

He sat down and began to pick at his salad while Walter continued consuming his hearty meal.

‘How are Rena and John?’ Andrew enquired.

Rena was Walter’s wife. Andrew had met her a few times at hospital functions. While not beautiful, she was a striking woman nevertheless. She was about six feet tall with long black hair and a quick wit. She had played netball at quite a high level in her university days. Rena was also a pharmacist. She owned and ran a pharmacy in Glen Iris, five minutes from their home.

John was their son. He had recently graduated as a pharm­acist and had joined his mother in the pharmacy. He had long before made it clear to Walter that he was going “where the money was” and was not in the least interested in working at Prince Charles or at any other hospital for that matter.

“They’re both well. Thanks for asking. You know John joined Rena. She has bought the shop next door and has expanded her pharmacy. They’re doing very well. I hope to retire soon and live off my wife,’ he added jokingly.

‘I see you have settled in well Andrew,’ Walter added. ‘It’s a great time to be a neurologist at Prince Charles. Jeffrey has well and truly put the hospital on the map. And I hear on the grapevine that you and Lisa are an item again.’

‘Yes we are,’ Andrew replied. He never ceased to be amazed how quickly information spread around the hospital.

‘You’re right Walter. It is a great time to be at Prince Charles. I’m only sorry I wasn’t here when the trial was on and the results came out. It must have been fantastic. And you were in the middle of all that.’

‘Yes, it was a special time. A once-in-a-lifetime experience really. I’m glad to have played a role, although it was a pretty minor one really.’

Walter paused to finish the remaining food on his plate, drained the last of his orange juice and continued.

‘You’ve got to hand it to Jeffrey. It was not easy going. Do you know that he tried Amaradine on four patients after Lionel Myer. No response. All four died. Of course we knew later that the dose was too low but we didn’t know that at the time. Lionel was just lucky. He had a very responsive tumour. But with just one successful case, Jeffrey had no support at all to continue. I scoured the literature and could not find any other cases of Amaradine being used to treat glioma, successfully or otherwise. I was sceptical. But Jeffrey was convinced after the Lionel Myer case and would not let up. He was determined to start a trial. The Ethics Committee knocked him back three times but Jeffrey would not give up. He bullied the Board into getting the Ethics Committee to consider the trial for a fourth time. It was then that WH Pharmaceuticals offered to fund the trial and Jeffrey finally got his way. And just as well he did. Look at where we are now. Had it been someone other than Jeffrey Harris, the trial would have never happened and all those poor glioma patients would have been denied a cure. Jeffrey deserves a Nobel if you ask me.’

Andrew could detect Walter’s passion. It was obviously genuine and there was certainly no hint from Walter of anything irregular having taken place.

‘I heard somewhere that the trial was nearly negative,’ Andrew ventured tentatively.

‘Yes, I heard something about that too,’ Walter replied. ‘I wasn’t involved in that part of it but I recall that at one stage recruitment was down. There were a few referrals from outside the hospital but in the end they got their numbers and it turned out okay.’

Andrew noticed how nonchalant Walter was in this remark. There was no way he’s involved thought Andrew. Thank goodness. He can be crossed off the list.

‘It’s been great catching up Walter,’ Andrew said as he looked at his watch. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to run. I’ve got the Glioma Follow Up Clinic. We must do this again, soon.’

‘Love to Andrew. I’ve got to go too. It’s been great chatting.’

They both stood up, deposited their meal trays and headed off in separate directions.