Straits of Fortune - Anthony Gagliano [75]
“You’re not telling it right,” Nick said. “It really started years ago, about the time when all the major drug companies had jumped on the antidepressant bandwagon. Dad had had a drug in development for ten years. It was called Morphitrex. Ever hear of it?”
“Never.”
Vivian lit a cigarette. She waved the match in the air and tossed it out the open window. We were in Surfside now, among the parallel rows of ratty motels where the Canadians used to stay before they got smart and took their business north to Hollywood Beach. But to me, as tired as I was, every chintzy neon sign was the entrance to the palace of sleep.
“That was the trouble,” Vivian said. “No one else did either. The FDA killed it just as it was about to be approved. They found out he had faked some of the research. It turns out the drug had way too many side effects.”
“That’s when the money trouble started,” Nick added. “The big boys like Merck and Pfizer can afford to lose huge like that, but not Dad. You know why he never took the company public?”
“Because he’s a control freak,” I said.
“That’s right,” Vivian said. “He’s a control freak. But when he saw the company he’d built from nothing going under, he had to bring in the venture capitalists, the deep-pocket people. But they didn’t just give him the money and then go home and take a nap. You don’t borrow a hundred million dollars and not give up control. It almost killed him, but it was the only way he could save Pellucid.”
“Happens all the time,” I said. “What’s the point?”
“Guess where the money came from?” Vivian said.
“The Tooth Fairy,” I offered.
“Matson,” Nick said.
“Impossible,” I said. “Matson had money, but not that kind of money. He made booty movies,” I told him. But then the image of The Carrousel and what Agent Hackbart had said at Susan’s place about Matson and Duncan came back to me.
“Matson had friends,” Vivian said.
“That reminds me,” I said. “You forgot to mention that there was a second dead man on the boat. I know it’s a minor detail, but I don’t recall announcing any two-for-one-sale on dead-body disposal. He was the other lucky guy in the home movie your pops gave me to watch.”
“His name was Harry Duncan. He was a friend of Matson’s. Anyway, what difference does it make?” Vivian said. “They were both dead, weren’t they? All you did was get rid of them.”
“From what I saw on that video, you seem to have known him pretty well,” I said.
“Not as well as you might think. They gave me Morphitrex. That stuff makes everybody your friend.”
“Are you on it now?” I asked.
“A little.”
“Is that why you were kissing that girl back at Embers?”
“Yes, but I would have kissed her anyway.”
I looked at her for a moment and wondered who she was. I glanced at her half brother and noticed for the first time that they both had the same eyes. Not the same color—his were a washed-out blue, and hers were dark almond, almost black. But they had the same penetrating sheen to them, making them look like grown-up naughty children caught in the act. It came to me then that I had lived too long in a foreign country, and that country was my own. With a pair like these two riding with me, I was glad I had the gun. Too bad it wasn’t loaded with silver bullets.
“If the FDA didn’t approve the drug, how’d you get hold of it?” I asked.
“This is the good part,” Nick said.
“They manufactured some of the pills initially, just as samples for the trials. One night I was snooping around in my father’s office, not looking for anything in particular, when I came across a box of these little blue pills. Well, you know me. I just popped one down, and boy, it was fantastic, better than ecstasy, way better. Anyway, I gave one to Matson. That’s when he brought Harry Duncan into it, as a partner. And that’s when they made Daddy an offer.”
“What kind of offer?” I asked.
“They wanted access to Daddy’s research. Their idea was that Morphitrex was just the beginning. They would manufacture a whole line of designer drugs offshore for practically