Capitol Reflections (21 page)
Karn shook his head and walked away, his gait slowed by fatigue rather than alcohol. That Broome and Randall shared some common interest was not in the least bit surprising to him, but he would have given anything to have been a fly on the wall moments earlier and find out exactly what that common interest was.
26
Perky as ever, Katie Couric interviewed Billy Hamlin, who smiled a great deal and talked of how it felt to be at the helm of a company with one of the most recognizable names in the country. There had been much joking as Couric, in the course of her questioning, picked up a cup of coffee, looked off-camera, and declared, “I believe I’m drinking Pequod’s at this very moment, isn’t that right, Sid?” In keeping with the show’s lighthearted informality, an invisible assistant producer gave her a thumbs-up and a “Yep.”
Hamlin talked about his wife and family, his belief that America’s economy was as robust as his company’s coffee blend, and his first-class education. He’d graduated from Stanford’s Young Entrepreneurs Program and had been recruited by Pequod’s, a company he’d never heard of at the time.
“You are the great American success story,” proclaimed Couric. “Do you ever wake up and say, ‘This can’t be happening to me! It’s too good to be true?’”
“I’ve been blessed in many ways, Katie. Not only have I been very successful, but I’m head of a company that produces a fantastic product.”
“Do I hear a little of the pitchman coming out?” Couric asked with trademark enthusiasm.
“Absolutely,” replied Hamlin, laughing. “Pequod’s coffee helps this nation get moving every morning and, more than that, it tastes great! But I think our greatest accomplishment has been to offer diversity to people who want a good cup of coffee. We have seventeen different flavors, all based on the same terrific roasted beans, and we can add numerous toppings for coffee drinkers who would like to be creative when ordering their morning eye-opener.”
“Yes, the pitchman has definitely arrived,” said Couric with her signature smile. “Thank you, Billy Hamlin, for joining us this morning. It’s 8:47. Stay tuned, everyone, for more of
Today
.”
Today
.”
Mark Stern clicked off the TV in his hotel room, tossing the remote on the rumpled bed behind him. The interview had failed to cover anything substantive, and Couric’s questions were nothing more than softballs lobbed at the CEO. Fortunately, there had been no announcement about Pequod’s plans to expand, so there was still time to make a pitch for the interview. Mark suspected that Hamlin had been booked on to the show by the PR gurus at Pequod’s as a way of increasing visibility and awareness of the company, a critical small step before the company’s latest marketing barrage.
The reporter waited ten minutes, giving Hamlin time to get clear of the studio at 30 Rockefeller Center. An important guest usually had a limo waiting close by to ensure the precise execution of a tight schedule.
Mark had done some of his best investigative work in recent memory with the intent of throwing a kink into Hamlin’s seamless itinerary. He dialed the CEO’s number, his cell phone programmed to appear as if the call was emanating from a Pequod’s corporate phone number in Seattle. After two rings, Mark heard, “Hamlin here.”
“Good morning, Billy.”
“Excuse me? Who’s this?” Hamlin’s tone wasn’t indignant, just curious.
“Someone who’s in possession of a great deal of knowledge about your announcement to take Pequod’s into new markets.”
“Wait just a second. I won’t—”
“Calm down, Billy. I’m a reporter. My name is Mark Stern and I’ll write the story one way or another, but I’d rather have your input before doing a piece on how Pequod’s is making it harder for many of its competitors to stay in business. Looks to me like ‘Corporate Coffee Giant Stamps Out Competition.’ But, hey, if you can convince me that Pequod’s is in the best interest of the consumer and that other chains are not being muscled out, then the story might have a completely different feel to it.”
“And if I decline your request, you’ll write a story,” Hamlin replied personably enough. “Big deal. You wouldn’t be the first person to criticize us, Mark.”
“That’s true,” responded Mark, “but if you decline, I’ll have word out in less than sixty seconds that Pequod’s is going to steam-roll what’s left of local coffee chains. You’ll be doing damage control for weeks, maybe even months.”
“You’ll be leaking proprietary information, Mark, and that’s against the law.”
“People talk, Billy. I found out because a little bird told me. It’s a free country, and my being a reporter doesn’t mean I can’t pass on information like anyone else. First Amendment, and all that. But I’ll tell you what. I believe in playing fair. You talk with me privately and I’ll make sure the
Post
won’t run the story until you’ve made your announcement. I’m not trying to steal your thunder.”
Post
won’t run the story until you’ve made your announcement. I’m not trying to steal your thunder.”
There was a pause. Mark could tell that Hamlin was talking with someone nearby, but the words were unintelligible.
“I’m curious, Mark,” said Hamlin when he came back on the line. “Why didn’t you just come out and ask for an interview. We at Pequod’s are extremely proud of our product.”
“You’re not talking with Katie anymore, Billy, so save the tag-lines. Are you trying to tell me that if I’d just said ‘please’ you would have opened your arms and embraced me before making your announcement? I’ve never ridden in a turnip truck in my life, so I sure as hell didn’t just fall off one.”
“You speak like you write, Mark. I like that. Would it surprise you to learn that I’m one of your fans?”
“I’m not wearing my hip boots, Billy, so try to restrain yourself.”
“You can believe it or not, Mark, but I’ve read many of your columns, as well as your first book.”
“Which was called?”
“
Sterner Stuff
. I have
Latitudes and Attitudes
in my home library, but I’ve never gotten around to reading it.”
Sterner Stuff
. I have
Latitudes and Attitudes
in my home library, but I’ve never gotten around to reading it.”
“I’m impressed,” admitted Mark.
“I also liked the column you did on full-moon madness.”
Mark wasn’t thrown off balance very easily, be he had to admit that Hamlin had surprised the hell out of him. “Okay, so you like my ink. Maybe you’re not a corporate robot after all. What do you say we sit down and talk? I’m looking for a story. If you know my work, you know that I deal in pop culture and societal trends, and nothing is trendier than Pequod’s right now.”
“Of course I’m going to speak with you, Mark. You play racquetball?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“Good. Tomorrow at two. After the game, we sit down and I’ll answer your questions as long as we agree that your story is kept under wraps for one week.”
“That’s acceptable.”
“Deal. I’ll have my assistant give you the address of my favorite racket club in New York.”
Mark clicked off the cell after he’d gotten the necessary address.
“Damn,” he muttered. “He knew my work. This might be my best interview since I asked Bloomberg why there were two rats in New York City for every child under ten.”
27
Where to begin?
After consulting the partial list of cities BioNet listed in its search for seizure activity, Gwen typed in her private password of the day. She was looking for any kind of geographical pattern to seizures reported as part of the AE forms. The problem was that populations were ever-changing and mobile, and people were still exiting urban areas for the ’burbs. The seizure events, if there was a pattern, could well have spread beyond a neat, well-defined geographic area.
There were a few cases in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Ann Arbor was near Detroit, so Gwen summoned up AE files from the Motor City.
“Crap,” Gwen mumbled. More than a thousand AE files recorded seizure activity as part of the patient’s history. Those patients had taken dozens of different drugs in all sorts of combinations.
What would Fitz do in such a situation?
Pick a drug and a year and start reading.
She examined Pfizer’s trials for medications to treat arthritis and ulcers. Zilch. No reports of seizures were included on any of the hundreds of forms she scanned. After three hours of tedious reading, however, she began browsing adverse events stemming from trials of various birth control methods, including pills, injections, and skin patches. The patients in a test for a skin patch had all been young, sexually active women. While it wasn’t clear whether the women were aggressive professionals like Marci, the company reported that three of the women had seizures resulting in one fatality and two hospitalizations. Box number seven on the reporting form indicated that all three had been smokers, but otherwise had enjoyed reasonably good health.
Gwen leaned back and carefully studied the computer screen. Three women out of one hundred. That was highly anomalous. Birth control meds didn’t lower the seizure threshold the way other drugs did, such as SSRIs like Prozac. While they increased the chance for stroke or heart attack, especially if the woman was a smoker, seizure was not a normal precursor to such events.
As in Marci’s case, she heard her dad whisper.
Three women out of ten thousand? Maybe. Three women out of one hundred? Much less likely.
Gwen checked the dates of the seizures in the trial against the dates Jan had provided from the Detroit BioNet scan.
They matched perfectly.
Could the birth-control skin patch have been responsible? The thought warranted further investigation, but if Gwen saw similar trends in other cities associated with other drugs, the skin patch would become increasingly unlikely as a suspect.
Next stop: Chicago.
Gwen keyed on a cluster of reports submitted in association with a new antibiotic. She discovered that seven patients in a trial of 500 subjects had died from seizure episodes in Chicago during the five weeks that BioNet reported a seizure spike for the area. One of the fatalities, a forty-one-year-old man, had a history of angina. The others, including a twenty-six-year-old woman, had no prior medical history worth noting. All were smokers.
“Damn,” said Gwen. “This is too bizarre.”
This is old-fashioned detective work, Fitz’s voice reminded her, and it’s paying off.
“One more time,” the intrepid Dr. Maulder declared, summoning up new files. This time, she went straight to reports for the timeframe BioNet had specified for seizures in Trenton, New Jersey. Unbelievably, nine people out of five hundred in a test for a long-acting acid reflux pill had experienced seizures. One had died, a thirty-two-year-old woman previously treated for depression and anxiety. All of the patients were under forty. Three were smokers.
“Smoking has to be the common thread,” Gwen said aloud, “but if that’s the case, then why not four out of four?”
Maybe the other smoked and didn’t report it, either by accident or because some people aren’t always honest. Gwen had amassed an amazing amount of information in the course of one day’s work. She was willing to bet that she would find similar trends in other cities where drug companies tried out their pills and potions. Medwatch was turning out to be a valuable asset. She fired off a memo to Jan.
| Subj: | RE: AE files |
| Date: | 7/27/05 9:27 a.m. Eastern Standard Time |
| From: | [email protected] |
| To: | [email protected] |
Seizures reported in drug-testing facilities, not just emergency rooms! Direct correlation between seizure activity in clinical trials and BioNet’s findings as far as time frames and locations are concerned. Can you believe this?! What’s going on down in Atlanta? Is the quantum wizard up and running?
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