Fatal Care by Leonard Goldberg

splicing and was one of the first to show that the vitamin A–producing gene in a daffodil could be inserted into a rice plant with the end result being a type of rice with very high levels of vitamin A. Brennerman’s research led to over a dozen patents involving genetically modified foods, and both he and Memorial received handsome royalties from agricultural conglomerates eager to buy their patents.
    But Brennerman’s main interest was atherosclerosis, the deadly process that lays down plaques in arteries, occluding them and leading to heart attacks and strokes. And his intense interest in this disease process wasn’t just a case of scientific curiosity. He was trying to save his own life. His father and brother had died of heart attacks in their mid-forties. His mother dropped dead of a stroke on her forty-sixth birthday. In his family, atherosclerosis was rampant. Very few people lived beyond the age of fifty. Brennerman was already forty-five.
    It was as if Brennerman were racing with the clock.
    “So that’s how he came up with the lipolytic enzyme to cleanse arteries,” Joanna interjected.
    “That’s almost another story in itself,” Hoddings went on. “But a damn interesting one.”
    “I’d love to hear it.”
    Hoddings relighted his pipe before continuing.
    Brennerman had found a family living in Santa Barbara that had extremely high levels of cholesterol, yet never suffered heart attacks or strokes. He surmised that the family must have some genetic factor—perhaps an enzyme—that prevented plaque formation and protected the family members. So he began studying the genes in that family, looking for the magical factor. He worked in his lab seven days a week, sometimes even sleeping on a cot in his office. He skipped lectures and meetings so he could spend every spare moment looking for this factor. Finally he requested that he be relieved of all teaching and administrative duties so he could concentrate solely on his research.
    Simon Murdock refused, not wanting to set a precedent. Brennerman was furious and promptly went out and searched for a venture capitalist who would fund the start-up of a new biotechnology company. He found one and resigned the next day. Murdock quickly backtracked and offered to give Brennerman whatever he wanted. But it was too late.
    “So they reached an agreement,” Hoddings concluded. “Brennerman was made an adjunct professor of genetics at Memorial and allowed to keep his laboratory, and this permitted him to continue to receive NIH grants. He was also given permission to run his new Bio-Med Corporation, in which he holds a substantial interest. As I understand it, the majority interest belongs to the venture capitalist who put up the initial funding.”
    “And what does Memorial get out of this?” Joanna asked.
    “Royalties on everything that comes out of his lab at Memorial,” Hoddings told her. “So far, there are four patents on genetically modified foods which are owned by Bio-Med, but from which we receive royalties.”
    Joanna nodded, noting the word
we
. Contrary to his earlier statement, Hoddings knew exactly how much money changed hands between Bio-Med and Memorial.
    “So,” Joanna thought aloud, “for some handsome royalties, Memorial allows Eric Brennerman to use its name and laboratories, and of course he can also do his clinical trials here—as he did with the arterial cleansing procedure.”
    “Precisely,” Hoddings said. “In these days of tight money for medical research, Memorial is like all the other medical centers. We have to scratch and claw for every nickel.”
    “Scratch and claw,” Joanna repeated agreeably. But she was thinking that Murdock and Hoddings had sold out for a price.
    “Did Brennerman discover his magic enzyme here or at Bio-Med?”
    “At Bio-Med,” Hoddings replied. “But it’s not quite as magical as people make it out to be.”
    Joanna leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
    The intercom on Hoddings’s desk