Strong Medicine (67 page)

As to their liaison and possible gossip, Martin was sure that some was

circulating-Harlow was too small a place for that not to happen. But at the

research institute he and Yvonne were discreet, never communicating with

each other unless their work required it. Apart from that, Martin took the

view that his private life was his own affair.

He had given no thought as to how long the relationship between himself and

Yvonne would continue, but from their casual remarks it was clear that

neither saw it as demanding, or more than temporary -

An enthusiasm they shared was the progress of the Harlow research.

As Martin wrote in one of his rare reports to New Jersey: "The structure of

Peptide 7 is now known. The gene has been made, inserted into bacteria, and

large amounts have been prepared." The process, he noted, was "much like

the preparation of human insulin."

At the same time, tests for Peptide Ts safety and effectiveness continued

via injections into animals. A vast amount of animal data was accumulating,

to the point where permission for human trials would be sought within the

next few months.

Perhaps inevitably, rumors about the institute's research leaked out and

reached the press. Though Mar-tin declined requests to give interviews,

arguing that anything printed would be premature, reporters found other

sources and newspaper accounts appeared anyway. On the whole they were

accurate. Speculation about a "wonder drug to delay growing old, now being

tried on animals" was given prominence, as well as "the drug's remarkable

weight-reduc-

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ing effect." All of this aroused Martin's anger because clearly someone

on the scientific staff had been indiscreet.

On Martin's instruction, Nigel Bentley attempted to find out who had

talked, but without success.

"Actually," the administrator pointed out, "the publicity hasn't done

much harm, if any. The scientific world already has a good idea of what

you're doing-remember those two consultants you had in. And titillating

the public now could help sales of Peptide 7 later on."

Martin was unconvinced, but let the matter drop,

One unwelcome effect of the publicity was a flood of letters, pamphlets

and petitions from "animal-rights" crusaders--extremists who objected to

experiments of any kind on animals. Some described Martin and his Harlow

staff as "sadists," "torturers," "barbarians" and "heartless criminals."

As Martin told Yvonne after reading samples of the more vituperative mail

at home, "All countries have their anti-experimentation kooks, but

Britain is the worst." He picked up another letter, then put it down in

disgust. "These people don't just want animal suffering kept to a

minimum-which I'm in favor of, and I believe in laws to enforce it. But

they want our kind of science, which has to use animals, to come to a

screeching halt."

Yvonne asked, "Do you think there'll be a time when research won't need

animals at all?"

"Someday perhaps, yes. Even now, in places where we used to use animals

we're using methods like tissue cultures, quantum pharmacology, and

computers instead. But doing without animals entirely . . ." Martin shook

his head. "It could happen, but not for a long time."

"Well, don't let it get to you." Yvonne collected the protest letters and

stuffed them back into a briefcase. "Besides, think of our animals.

Because of Peptide 7, they're healthier and smarter.,,

But her words failed to change Martin's mood. The recent mail influx had

depressed him.

Overall at the institute, however, the contrast to the early days of

groping-when there was so little progress and only negative results-was

so great that Martin confided to Rao Sastri, "I'm worried. When anything

goes this well, a major setback can be just around the corner."

His words proved prophetic-and sooner than expected.

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It was the following weekend---early Sunday morning, shortly after I

A.m-when a telephone call awakened Martin. Yvonne was still asleep beside

him.

When Martin answered, the caller was Nigel Bentley.

"I'm at the institute," the administrator said. "The police called me. I

think you'd better come."

"What's wrong?"

"It's bad news, I'm afraid." Bentley's voice sounded grim. "But I'd rather

you see for yourself Can you get here quickly?"

"I'm on my way."

By now, Yvonne was awake. As Martin began to throw on clothes, she

hurriedly dressed too.

They went together, in Martin's car. At the institute, other vehicles were

outside, two of them police cars with blue lights flashing. A third

flashing light was on a fire engine, just leaving. The institute's front

doors were open.

Bentley met them inside. A uniformed police inspector was with him. If

Bentley was surprised to see Yvonne, he effectively concealed it.

"We've been raided," he announced. "By animal lovers."

Martin's brow creased. "Animal lovers?"

"Actually, sir," the policeman said, "the people who did it call themselves

the Animal Rescue Army. They've given us trouble before." The inspector,

approaching middle age, had the resigned, sardonic manner of one who had

watched many human follies and expected to see more.

Martin said impatiently, "Did what? What's happened?"

"They broke in," Bentley answered, "And then they released all the animals.

Some are still loose in the building, but most were taken outside, the

cages opened, and of course they're gone. Then they collected all the files

and records they could find, carried them outside, and poured petrol on."

"They started a fire, Doctor," the inspector said. "Someone in another

building saw it and phoned in an alarm. When the fire brigade came and put

it out is when we got here too. We were in time to catch two suspects, a

woman and a man. The man's been in prison, he admits, for another similar

offense."

"The two the police caught are being held in my office," Bentley continued.

"There seems to have been a gang of six. They overpowered our watchman and

locked him in a cupboard. They also knew how to deactivate the burglar

alarm."

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"The whole operation was carefully planned," the police inspector said.

"That's one of the hallmarks of these people."

Martin scarcely heard. His eyes were on four rats which had scampered

into a corner of the reception area and were huddled there. Now,

frightened by voices, the rats ran through another open door. Martin

followed, heading for the laboratories and animal rooms.

Mess and confusion confronted him. Animal cages had either been removed

or were open and empty. Loose-leaf reference books were gone. File

drawers had been pulled out, some of their contents scattered on the

floor. Many files were missing. Presumably they had been burned outside.

Bentley, the inspector, and Yvonne had followed Martin.

Yvonne murmured, "Oh, my God!"

Martin, emotional, despairing, could only ask, "Why? Oh, why?"

The inspector suggested, "Maybe you should put that question to the pair

we've arrested, Doctor."

Martin nodded without speaking, and the policeman led the way to the

administrator's office. Inside, a young police constable was guarding a

man and a woman.

The woman, in her mid-thirties, was tall and slim. She had aquiline,

haughty features and her hair was trimmed short. A lighted cigarette

drooped from her lips. She wore tight jeans, a lumberjack shirt, and

plastic, thigh-length boots. As the inspector and the others came in, she

regarded them disdainfully, seemingly unconcerned about her capture.

The man, of about the same age, was slight and in other circumstances

could have been thought of as meek and mild. He looked like a clerk, was

balding, slightly stooped, and wore steel-rimmed spectacles. He t;miled

thinly at the newcomers-and defiantly.

"These are the pretty pair," the inspector said. "They've been cautioned

legally, but they seem to want to talk. Real proud of themselves, they

are."

"And so we should be," the man said. His voice was reedy and unsteady;

he coughed nervously to clear it. "We've done a noble deed."

Martin exploded, his voice close to shouting. "Do you have any idea what

you've done? How much important work you've wrecked and wasted?"

"What we do know," the woman said, "is that we've saved some

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fellow creatures from the vivisectionists-tyrants like you who exploit

animals for your selfish ends."

"If you think that, you're ignorant fools." Martin wanted to lash out

physically at the two in front of him, but restrained himself. "All the

animals you released were born in captivity. Those outside can't survive.

They'll die horribly. And those inside will have to be destroyed."

"Better that," the woman said, "than suffer your inhumane cruelty."

"He isn't inhumane! He isn't cruel!" It was Yvonne, her face flushed, her

voice pitched high. "Dr. Peat-Smith is one of the kindest men who ever

lived. He loves animals."

The man sneered. "As pets, I suppose."

"We don't approve of animals as pets," the woman said. "That's a

master-slave relationship. We believe animal fights are equal to human

rights. Furthermore, animals should not be restricted, confined, or have to

suffer, merely to make humans happier or healthier." Her voice, measured

and assured, had the tone of one blessed with total moral certainty.

The man said, "Something else we believe is that the human species has no

superiority over other species."

"In your case," the inspector said, "I'd say that's true."

Martin addressed the woman. "You and your fellow lunatics have just

destroyed scientific research which will take years to repeat. And for all

that time you'll have deprived thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of

decent, deserving people of a medicine to make their lives better, more

bearable . . ."

"Well, good for the Animal Rescue Army!" Scornfully, the woman interrupted,

spitting words at Martin. "I'm delighted to hear our effort was successful.

And if what you call scientific research, and I call barbarous atrocities,

is repeated, I hope you die in agony doing it."

"You maniac!" The words were a scream, spoken as Yvonne dived forward,

hands extended. There was a second's stillness in which no one else

realized what was happening, then Yvonne was attacking the woman fiercely,

fingernails raking her face.

Martin and the inspector between them pulled Yvonne away.

Now the Animal Rescue woman screamed. "That was an assault! A criminal

assault." As two long red weals, one of them bleeding, flared on her face,

she demanded of the two policemen, "Arrest that bitch! She must be

criminally charged."

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"Arrest this lady?" The inspector seemed pained. He glanced toward Yvonne

who was trembling and seemed in shock. "Arrest her for what? I didn't see

any assault." He looked toward the constable. "Did you?"

The other policeman answered, "No, sir. I reckon the prisoner got those