I busied myself with packing for our five-mile drive to the Washington marina where Scalawag awaited us. The day and weekend were going to be hot and sunny. Ralph and Elaine Morgan were joining us around one in the afternoon on Saturday. Max said he’d be by on Sunday.
I felt things were getting back to normal. My mind flicked to Sarah Metzger, who had not sent me that list of watchdog authors. It wasn’t critical right now, but it could give me a little better insight into the pharmas and maybe even the FDA.
Jerry and Tyler interrupted my thoughts as they came in from the deck.
“Hey, slowpoke, we’ll never get on the water at this rate.”
“And who says I’m the one who’s causing this alleged delay? What do you think all this is?” I asked, pointing at two coolers and a large shopping bag filled to the brim.
Tyler squirmed and squealed, reaching for me. “Okay, but only for a moment.”
Jerry handed me our wiggling bundle of joy. “Eh, while you’re not doing anything, would you fetch Tyler’s and my bag from the bedroom?”
He went upstairs. I put Tyler in his high chair and cut up a banana for him to mush around. He squealed with delight as he whacked a slice off the tray. He grabbed a second piece and pushed it into his mouth by sliding it across his cheek first. I wondered what process he used to make the selection . . . which slice went where.
Jerry came down with a travel bag in each hand. “I’ll put these in the car.”
“I’ll get Tyler clean. Both coolers are ready.”
To lighten our transition from house to boat, we used a collapsible two-wheel dolly to ferry stuff from the SUV onto Scalawag. On an earlier day trip, we had put duplicate stuff like a port-a-crib, toys, and sundries on board.
The short trip was smooth. Tyler nodded right off and slept the whole way.
Once on board and with Tyler happily in his crib, Jerry set about readying the boat for our sail. I went below and cleaned the head and galley, made a food list, and walked to the fish market adjacent to the marina.
After I stowed my purchases, I put Tyler in his onboard car seat and took him and my computer aft by the helm. Jerry had installed onboard Wi-Fi after we were married. I didn’t need the enticement to spend time on Scalawag, but it did allow me to stay current with my work.
I found an email with several attachments from Michael and pulled it up. They were all about Rufus McAllister and the life and times of the McAllister family.
Jerry was in the salon of our thirty-five-foot sloop when Ralph and Elaine arrived. I had met her before but didn’t really know her. Our visitors fussed over Tyler, who was curious and quiet with these new people. After a little socializing, Jerry took Elaine on a tour. She went without question, most likely prepared for my wanting to talk with her husband. Tyler was content, so he stayed with me.
Ralph and I hadn’t spoken privately since our lunch a year earlier at the Powtomack Restaurant, downstream of Reagan National Airport. Ralph was about the same age as Jerry, but looked older—more facial lines and considerably heavier.
“Jerry told you Senator Roanne Dalton brought me into the Tutoxtamen thing, right?”
He nodded.
I kept my scenario superficial, while giving him the chronology of events.
“So Dalton believes Kelly put the heat on his caucus to support something only he and Pembroke knew about in advance—the FDA’s non-approval of the drug?” Ralph asked.
“According to Dalton’s AA, Michael Horne, the pharmas are tight with Kelly and some senior senators. Kelly made the party’s unanimous support of the FDA’s decision obligatory. Horne insists some senators are engaged in illegal and unethical activity.”
“Horne. I remember him. He worked for H.T., right?”
“Yes, H.T.’s AA at the time had died in that same crash. Had you ever dealt with Senator Pembroke?”
“I knew him. He and Grayson sat on a couple of committees together.”
“Would one have been the Health, Education, Labor, and Pension?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Pembroke is now that committee’s chair. What were your impressions of him?”
He looked at me strangely. “You going after him for something?”
I was a bit taken aback by that. “Should I?”
He shrugged. “He’s a likable guy. Has a grown-up family. He was in his second term when I knew him. He hung with Kelly, something I found strange. Kelly’s a cutthroat politician. Fred’s always . . .” He let it go with a you know expression.
“Do you know Senator Gavin Crawford?”
“I’ve heard the name but never met him. He new?”
“Beginning his second term. He and Pembroke are friends, neighbors in McLean.”
“Is he another one you’re worried about?” he asked flippantly.
Ralph’s potshots were getting tiresome. Maybe he thought he was being witty, but he was rubbing me the wrong way. “No, he has befriended Dalton professionally.” I added that to stop another remark. I needed to move on. “How do senators interact with the FDA?”
He reacted as though I’d thrown him a fastball, when he expected a slider. He took a long pull on his beer. “Officially, they don’t, except in hearings. The pharma lobbyists use their considerable influence over both the Senate and the FDA. They manage things.”
That piqued my interest. “How so?”
“The pharmas finance a lot of research and quietly dictate. I’m not referring to the thousands of scientists and associates who do their work very well. Besides, the pharmas only need to target a few key people, influence the hiring of special government employees . . .”
“Special . . . who are they?”
“They’re called an Advisory Committee. It’s something that was established in 1972 throughout the federal government.”
I felt we were getting close to something new and important. “Could the pharmas influence who’s hired?”
“I would say they do. The committee members are paid a fee.”
“Could such a committee advise the FDA to turn down a drug that they might under other circumstances have approved?”
“There is not a doubt in my mind they could,” Ralph said firmly.