Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Hartford
I secured my locker, pulled my backpack over my arm and headed to the hospital exit. I’d spent the last two hours of my shift catching up on paperwork, waiting for Gerry to finish his meetings. I still hadn’t managed to confess to him what I’d done.
“Hartford, just the person I’ve been looking for.”
I turned as Gerry came up beside me. It was nearly ten, and as much as I didn’t want to see Joshua, I did hear my bed calling.
“I’m being interviewed by the BBC tomorrow and I’m thinking I might bring up this Merdon thing.
There are rumors floating about Calmation being filed with the regulator tomorrow, so I can probably get away with commenting on what I’ve heard through the grapevine—no risk to my source. You mind taking a look at my notes?”
If anything was going to keep the adrenaline flowing, it was the fight against Merdon. “Absolutely, and actually I have something to tell you about that.” I followed Gerry into his office.
“I’ve been researching how to file a complaint to the health regulator,” I said.
Gerry sighed. “We need to do this in an organized way. We need lawyers to advise us and prepare a complaint.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“It will be,” he replied. “But it’s a generation of children who are going to become zombies if we don’t do something about Calmation. Every two-year-old having a tantrum is going to be given this stuff.”
It didn’t bear thinking about. “Do you think they’ll actually get it through?”
“Merdon has a lot of dollars.”
“You think they’ll bribe people?”
He shrugged. “They’ll pay millions to make sure this application is successful. And they’ll pay their lawyers to exploit every loophole they can find.”
“And millions more to advertise it when it passes.” Some of those millions would be going to Joshua.
I’d tried to push our night together out of my brain.
I’d tried to forget what I’d seen. The contract.
The different Calmation logos. The shiny, kid-friendly packaging that would make a dangerous drug seem safe. I didn’t want any of it to be true.
“Exactly. We’re going to need some money from somewhere to fight this properly.”
We couldn’t compete. But we needed to try. The only wealthy people I knew were the ones Joshua had introduced me to, and they weren’t about to take my side over his. Even though he was dead wrong.
“We could set up an online fundraiser. You could mention it in your interview tomorrow. It might help pay for a lawyer.”
“Good idea. Here are my notes.” He passed me two folded sheets of plain paper covered in what would, three months ago, have been indecipherable scrawl. Now I could read Gerry’s handwriting perfectly.
I scanned down the page, making sure he’d taken the agreed approach, which was to say that the use of this type of drug was effective only in limited circumstances that had to be established by a doctor.
“I think it’s worth pointing out that Merdon is in the business of selling drugs, not solutions to medical conditions. ”
“I like that idea.” Gerry started adding to his notes.
“Perhaps you can even mention that we’re fundraising for legal costs in your interview. I’ll set up a GoFundMe page people can contribute through.”
Gerry sat back and steepled his fingers together. “I knew I was right to hire you the moment I met you. You’re a clever, caring doctor. And a good colleague.”
“Thank you, sir.” Coming from Gerry, that was about the best compliment I could ever hope to get. “But I have a confession to make.”
I took a breath and told Gerry about my conversation with Joshua, where I didn’t mention any names but told him we were getting ready to campaign against an ADHD drug for children.
“Well, he’s a bright man. He will have known you were talking about Calmation.” Which was why it was all the more hurtful that he’d not said anything to me. I’d trusted him, but he’d not done the same in return.
“I’m really sorry.”
Gerry shook his head. “You didn’t say anything that isn’t already circulating as industry gossip anyway. You’ve not done any damage. Now, go home and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
Sleep wouldn’t come easily. I had too much to think about. Too much to do. The irony was that the person I wanted to go home and share all this with, the one person who might be able to help, was also the last man I wanted to see right now.