Authors: Arthur Hailey
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fiction - General, #Medical, #drugs, #Fiction-Thrillers, #General & Literary Fiction, #Thrillers
of success.
But how much longer? Oh, how much longer would he have to wait?
Abruptly he sat upright in his chair and, with an effort of will,
expunged his downcast mood. Opening a drawer of his desk, he selected a
key. fie would go now--once more-he decided, to the private laboratory,
a few steps down the hall, where his research work was done.
8
Vincent Lord's Friend and ally on the Felding-Roth board of directors was
Clinton Etheridge, a successful and prominent New York lawyer who had
pretensions to scientific knowledge. The pretensions were based on the
fact that, for two years as a young man, Etheridge had been a medical
student before deciding to switch to law. As an acquaintance cynically
described the changeover, "Clint diagnosed where the big money was and
prescribed a route to it directly."
Etheridge was now fifty-three. The fact that his brief, incomplete
medical studies had taken place more than a quarter century earlier never
deterred him from making confident pronouncements on scientific matters,
delivered in his best courtroom manner with an implication that they
should be preserved on stone.
It suited Vincent Lord's purposes to flatter Etheridge by appearing to
treat him as a scientific equal. In this way the research director's own
views were often placed before the Felding-Roth board of directors with
the bonus, for Vince Lord, of a lawyer's skilled persuasiveness.
Not surprisingly, at a board meeting called to consider Sam
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Hawthorne's proposal for a British research institute, Clinton Etheridge led
off for the opposition.
The meeting was at Felding-Roth's Boonton headquarters. Fourteen of the
total complement of sixteen directors-all men-were assembled around the
boardroom's traditional walnut table.
Etheridge, who was tall, slightly stooped and cultivated a Lincolnesque
image, began genially. "Were you hoping, Sam, that if this pro-British
thing goes through, they'll be so pleased with you over there, you'll be
invited to tea at Buckingham Palace?"
Sam joined in the general laughter, then shot back, "What I'm really after,
Clint, is a long weekend at Windsor Castle."
"Well," the lawyer said, "I suppose it's an attainable objective, but in my
opinion the oni~ one." He became serious. "What you've proposed seems to me
to overlook the tremendous scientific capability and achievements of our
own country-your country too.,,
Sam had thought about this meeting in advance and had no intention of
letting the argument get away from him. "I haven't overlooked American
achievements in science," he objected. "How could I? They're all around us.
I simply want to supplement them."
Someone else injected, "Then let's use our money to supplement them here."
"The British themselves," Etheridge persisted, "have fostered a myth about
science on their little island somehow being superior. But if that's true,
why does Britain have its so-called 'brain drain'with so many of their best
people hotfooting it over here, to join in U.S. research?"
"They mostly do it," Sam answered, "because our facilities are better, and
more money is available for staff and equipment. But your question, Clint,
supports my argument. This country welcomes British scientists because of
their high quality."
"In your opinion, Sam," Etheridge asked, "what area of scientific research,
relating to this industry, is at present most important?"
"Without question, genetic engineering."
"Exactly." The lawyer nodded, satisfied with the answer. "And isn't it
true-and I speak with some scientific knowledge, as you know-that the
United States has led the world, and continues to, in this genetic field?"
Sam was tempted to smile, but didn't. For once, the pseudoscientist had
allowed himself to be mis-briefed.
"Actually, Clint," Sam said, "it isn't true. As long ago as 1651, in
Britain, William Harvey studied the development of the chick in
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the egg, and so laid the foundations of genetic studies. Also in England,
the study of biochemical genetics was begun in 1908. In between there were
other discoveries, with a good deal of work by an American geneticist, Dr.
Hermann Muller, in the 1920s and onward. But a crowning achievement,
sometimes referred to as 'an explosion in genetic science,' was also in
England-at Cambridge in 1953, when Doctors Watson and Crick discovered the
structure of the DNA molecule for which they won a Nobel Prize." Now Sam
smiled. "Dr. Watson, incidentally, was American-born, which shows that basic
science is international."
Several of the directors chuckled and Etheridge had the grace to look
rueful. He acknowledged, "As we lawyers say, there are questions you wish
you hadn't asked." Then, undeterred, he added, "Nothing that's been said
changes my view that American science is second to none; further, that our
own research quality will suffer if we spread ourselves too thin by setting
up shop in another country."
There were murmurs of agreement until another director, Owen Norton, rapped
his knuckles sharply on the table to command attention. He received it at
once.
Norton, a prestigious, authoritarian figure in his mid-seventies, was
chairman and major stockholder of a communications empire that included a
TV network. It was generally agreed that FeldingRoth was fortunate to have
him on its board. Now, having gained attention, he spoke forcefully in a
loud, rasping voice.
"May I remind all of you that we are discussing-or should bethe serious and
important problems which beset this company. We chose Sam Hawthorne as
president, believing he would give leadership, ideas and guidance. So he
has come up with a proposal embodying all three, and what is happening
here? We are being urged by Clint and others to dismiss it out of hand.
Well, I for one, will not."
Owen Norton glanced at Etheridge, with whom he had clashed at board
meetings before, and his voice became sarcastic. "I also believe, Clint,
you should save your juvenile, flag-waving polemics for a jury which is
less well informed than the members of this board."
There was a momentary silence during which Sam Hawthorne reflected on how
much it might surprise outsiders to discover that corporate board meetings
were seldom conducted on the high intellectual level which many might
expect. While weighty and some-
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times wise decisions could be arrived at, there was often a surprising
amount of low-level argument and petty bickering.
"What the hell does it matter, anyway," Norton continued, "whose science
is superior-Britain's or ours? That isn't the point."
A director asked, "Then what is?"
Norton pounded the table with a fist. "Diversification! In any business,
including mine, it's sometimes an advantage to have a second 'think
tank,' completely separate from and independent of any existing one. And
maybe the best way to get that separation is to put an ocean between the
two."
"It's also a way," someone else said, .of letting costs get out of hand.
"
For nearly an hour the debate continued, with more opposition surfacing
and alternative ideas being put forward. But there was support for Sam's
proposal from several directors, support which Owen Norton's stand had
strengthened, and in the end the opposition dissipated. Finally the
original proposal was approved by a vote of thirteen to one, Clinton
Etheridge the sole dissenter.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Sam acknowledged. "I truly believe that something
productive will come from this decision."
Later the same day he sent for Celia.
"You're moving on," he told her without time-wasting preliminaries. "The
International Division is now behind you. Your new job is special
assistant to the president and you'll be my right hand in setting up a
British research institute."
"All right," Celia acknowledged; the news delighted her, but she kept her
tone as brisk as Sam's. He was showing signs, she thought, of some of the
pressures which inevitably were crowding him. He was now almost totally
bald, only a thin fringe of hair remaining. From her own point of view,
Celia reasoned, there would be time for celebration tonight when she
shared her news with Andrew.
She asked, "When do I start?" Mentally she was calculating how long it
would take to hand over her Latin-American responsibilities. A month
should be enough.
"I'd prefer to make it this afternoon," Sam answered. "But we'll have to
arrange an office for you, so let's say 9 A.M. tomorrow."
"This new assignment you have," Sam explained to Celia next day, "won't
last long. Your main job will be to help get our British research
institute established, staffed and operating. I'd like to have
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that done in a year, though sooner would be better. As soon as possible
after that, we'll find you something else."
The priorities, Sam continued, were to find and appoint a British
scientist who would head the institute, to decide where in Britain it
should be located, then to buy or lease a building-preferably an existing
one capable of being adapted quickly to its new purpose.
Everything was to be on an urgent basis-which was the reason for pulling
Celia so suddenly from International. Sam personally would spearhead the
search for a prestigious, capable scientific director, though Celia would
help as needed. As to the other matters, Celia would handle those, coming
up with recommendations for Sam and others to consider.
Both Sam and Celia would leave for Britain the following week. Before
then, however, they would consult with Vincent Lord who, despite his
opposition to the project, was well informed about British science and
scientists and might have names of candidates to suggest.
The consultation with Dr. Lord took place a few days later in Sam's
office, with Celia present.
To Celia's surprise, Vince Lord was cooperative, even friendly as far as
that capability lay within him. Sam, who understood more of the
background than Celia, realized why. With Felding-Roth now committed to
research in Britain, Lord wanted to control it. But Sam still was
determined not to have that happen.
"I've prepared a list," Lord informed them, "of people who could be
potential candidates. You'll have to approach them discreetly because
they are either professors at universities or are employed by our
competitors."
Sam and Celia examined the list, which contained eight names. "We'll be
discreet," Sam promised, "but we'll also move quickly."
"While you're over there," Lord said, "here's something else you might
look into." From a file he extracted a batch of papers and letters
clipped together. "I've been corresponding with a young scientist at
Cambridge University. He's been doing some interesting work on mental
aging and Alzheimer's disease, but he's run out of money and wants a
grant."
"Alzheimer's," Celia said. "That's when the brain stops functioning,