Seeking Approval
Not until driving back to Morrissey with his family did Brian begin to think about work and remember to check his voice mail: the usual fire drills, new demands, why haven’t you called me. He returned one call he hadn’t expected, from Dr. Marta Everson, and agreed to fly out to Chicago the next day and meet her at the airport for what Everson called a confidential meeting and potentially career-changing proposal. You would think Everson had done enough to his career already, but Brian decided to explore all possibilities, keep all options open.
They met in the Admiral Club in view of the busy runway. Brian watched jets take off and land and wheel along the taxiway while he listened to Marta explain her idea.
Dr. Everson remained convinced that Zuprone posed a danger when prescribed at high doses for weight loss. Yet its popularity continued to grow due to Caladon’s aggressive and stealth marketing of it for such off-label use. The seminars she had participated in on Caladon’s behalf could be justified because the presentation included discussion about other drug therapies. But the entire Zuprone sales and marketing strategy, when the programs were examined in the aggregate—now, wouldn’t that tell a story of unethical and illegal practices?
No, it was not a rhetorical question. Yes, she wanted Brian to answer.
Does she think she’s the first one to pose such a question? Why should he answer her?
Because Everson needed an insider at Caladon willing to blow the whistle, and did Brian know that under the legal concept of qui tam, he would be entitled to a percentage of the fines levied by the federal government against Caladon. The amount would likely be in the millions.
Did he know about qui tam?
Of course he knew it. Being awarded a slice of the settlement pie motivated many whistle-blowers, who were shunned and pressured by management, often lost their jobs, and were blackballed from their industries.
“You would know whether a case could be made against Caladon,” Marta said. “You’re the one who implemented the marketing programs for Zuprone.”
“And what’s in it for you?” Brian asked. “Why do you want to go through all of this?”
“If you could see the condition of some of my patients, you would agree it’s the right thing to do. Two of them are quite ill; anorexia can be a life-threatening condition. Other patients could be experiencing similar bad outcomes—someone needs to protect consumers.”
The right thing to do, plus the express line to media exposure for a publicity junkie like Everson.
But what about the fact that Dr. Everson had accepted consulting arrangements from Caladon for hosting medical education seminars about weight-loss therapies?
“I was duped, just as you were,” Everson said. “I want to right a wrong.”
No one had duped Brian. On the other hand, it was never too late to do the right thing. He said he would consider her proposal, knowing he had the upper hand now. Without him to blow the whistle on Caladon, Everson had no substance to her claims. But there might not be any substance, anyway. Brian didn’t believe Caladon had crossed the line into illegal off-label marketing. Maybe because the line wasn’t a line at all, not in the traditional sense, but a blurry landmined zone you could navigate if you knew where to step and what to avoid—and if you had an army of crack attorneys ready for triage if anything exploded in your face.
He flew back that afternoon and discussed his options with Gwen.
“If you do this, aren’t you admitting you were involved in something illegal?” Gwen asked.
“Not necessarily, but I was following orders. I read about some other cases, and the whistle-blower is typically granted immunity.”
“That’s an awful expression—whistle-blower. It’s like being a tattletale.”
“You don’t approve?”
“I endured my own dark period of tattling recently and it wasn’t pleasant.”
“That was coerced out of you,” Brian pointed out. “This is just one option for me.”
“You shouldn’t do it for the money,” Gwen said. “And it doesn’t seem like a good career move, since you’ll lose your job and like you said get shut out from the industry. So the only reason to do it is if Caladon is purposely practicing deception or recklessly harming people. If that’s the situation, you need to step up and I’ll support you all the way.”
“I don’t know if that’s the situation. I’d like to think it wasn’t.”
And now, heading into Stephen’s office, Brian still hadn’t made up his mind what to do. With her limited sample of patients, Marta Everson had a weak basis for a lawsuit against Caladon—unless she allied with Brian as the insider who could expose Caladon’s intent. Except Caladon’s intent remained murky.
But, as Stephen said, consumer watchdogs and regulators had placed a target on their industry, which is why the Times article raised such an uproar and put Brian in peril. If Stephen tried to fire him today, Brian could mention Everson’s offer and see how it played.
Teresa caught up with him as he walked toward Stephen’s office.
“Everyone’s been asking if I knew where you were,” she said. “I heard they even sent someone around to your house. People were thinking you committed suicide or something.”
“I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone.”
She tugged his sleeve to stop him, turned so they were face-to-face. “They’re sending me back to Jersey. I’m working on a new project to redevelop our sales territories. We’ve had multiple reps calling on the same doctors, fighting over who has what account, and even complaints from doctors.”
“The fighting’s going to get worse before you’re done realigning the territories,” Brian told her.
She shrugged. “I can take it.”
“I’m sure you can.”
Teresa started to speak, stopped, then started again. “Anyway, I want to apologize for the other day in the bar. You know, the way I threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done it, and you were right to turn me away.”
“It wasn’t as easy as you might think.”
“Thanks, but I know you weren’t that interested.”
Brian nodded; Teresa was right. “When are you going back?”
“I start tomorrow. Today’s my last day here.”
“It could be mine, too,” Brian said. “I’ll stop by and see you before I leave.”
No one with Brian’s talent or ambition kept the same job or career path for long, and he was prepared to make a move as need or opportunity dictated. What Brian could never prepare for was losing Gwen, because he’d a glimpse of that and the view was bleak. The night Gwen was missing he lay awake for hours stroking his children’s cheeks and hair and swallowing back the dread that he’d never see his wife again. He played over and over again the worst-case scenarios. At one point he moved from Nate’s bed to Nora’s after having been kicked too many times by his sleeping son. He dozed in and out but the dreams were as bad as being awake, and he surfaced from one of the bad ones when his phone rang and woke him, while the kids slept on and morning light filled the windows.
Her voice—quiet, a single note from breaking—telling him she was safe. Like getting a call from God and ever after you are blessed with faith. Later, when Gwen told him how she’d gotten lost—the call with Jude, losing her direction, the horrific and freezing night in the wilderness—he did not chastise her or erupt in anger or jealous conniption. He comforted her and himself by holding her and whispering how she was his one true love, the only one, and please don’t ever leave him like that again.
Shelly told Brian to go right in, Stephen was waiting. She kept her face neutral, even though she knew what was about to happen: whether he was a goner or not. The executive assistants, they always knew; they held more inside information than the chairman of the board.
“Brian, sit down.” Stephen rose from his chair and shook Brian’s hand, as if Brian had come for an interview.
Brian sat in one of two leather chairs facing Stephen.
“We were getting a little worried about you. Thought maybe the FDA had snatched you up.” Stephen laughed, making light of his own comment.
“I was away with my family on a trip we’d been planning for some time.”
“Well, good, welcome back. I’ll get right to the point. We have to do something about Zuprone, and I know you’ve been working on it for a long time. So you understand the current situation. We’re going to make some changes, starting immediately.”
Here it comes.
“We’re going to issue a statement to the FDA and the media recommending that Zuprone not be prescribed for weight loss except in clinical trials.”
“What clinical trials?”
“We’ve evaluated your business case and conclusions and have decided to apply for FDA approval for Zuprone as a weight-loss drug.”
Brian sat speechless.
“That is still your recommendation, isn’t it?” Stephen asked.
“Yes, but what about the reports of anorexia?”
“We think those are isolated incidents, but we’re going to find out—without putting Caladon at risk.”
“Invest that kind of money to find out about a potential side effect?”
“Well, there’s more to it than that, Brian. You see, we believe Zuprone is safe and effective, and don’t want to subject ourselves to lawsuits, fines, and the like—which might end up costing close to what the clinical trials and FDA application will, according to the numbers you presented.”
“We might be able to wrap the further studies the FDA ordered into the new drug application,” Brian said. “That would save some money.”
Stephen showed his signature move, a nod to his chin while raising the eyebrows. Almost sheepish, yet a conclusive statement: letting you know you’ve got the picture.
“You’ve been a huge part of Zuprone’s success, although I can see why an outsider looking in, Marcus Ward from the FDA for instance, might question tactics.”
So he wasn’t out of the woods yet.
“We both know many decisions regarding those tactics came from Wilcox. He was nothing if not opportunistic and aggressive. That’s why he was able to build such a strong sales organization. We’ll miss him.”
“Miss him?”
“Resigned yesterday. We’re completely overhauling the sales force and have brought in Blair McFarland from Roche. He’ll be heading up sales and marketing for all of North America. You know Blair?”
“I know who he is, but I don’t think we’ve met.”
“He’s up here today if you get a chance to say hello. Going back to Jersey tomorrow. See what you miss when you’re gone for a few days?”
“Sounds like more than a few days in the making,” Brian said.
“But you won’t be working with Blair. I want you back on the clinical side, coordinating the Zuprone trials. You’ll report directly to me.”
Brian’s eyes widened.
“Who’s the MD?”
“Alice Conners.”
Brian nodded. Well-respected physician from the California lab.
“This is a promotion,” Stephen said. “In retrospect, you handled yourself well with Everson and the Times reporter. She could have done a lot more damage. And I admit none of it would have happened if I’d kept up my side of the bargain and dealt with Everson.”
“She might be a problem yet,” Brian said. He paused for a moment, deciding, then added, “She asked me to initiate a whistle-blower lawsuit against Caladon.”
No surprise registered on Stephen; he simply shrugged. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“It wouldn’t be easy, but with the right people working on her side an effective case could be made.”
“But you declined her invitation?”
Brian said nothing.
“Or you’ll decline it now?”
Brian nodded.
“The lure of qui tam,” Stephen said. “Like a siren’s song.” He stood. Meeting ended.
Returning to his office, Brian saw Teresa outside a conference room, in conversation with Blair McFarland, her new boss. He was about to stop and introduce himself but neither of them noticed Brian. Blair’s eyes were locked on Teresa while she spoke, subtly moving up and down to take her in. Brian knew that look: a man with his eyes on a lush prize. Teresa knew it, too. Brian almost felt the heat shimmering off her as he passed. She stood posed like statuary, oblique hip, cocked head, only her hands moving with her words, her fingers fanned out, a gesture away from embracing Blair McFarland. She’d be much happier back in New Jersey.