Blood List(53)

"That is correct."

"Do you have anything to say before we begin?"

"Yes. I have a lot to say. I don't know if you'll believe me, but eventually you won't have a choice." His eyes glossed over as his memory took him back. "I started work at a methadone clinic in Manhattan in 1974, to treat heroin addicts. It was heartbreaking and unrewarding. Even the best patients commonly went back to using within months of finishing treatment. But for one in ten or so, it saved their lives. That made it worth it. Sometimes.

"Then another doctor at the clinic, VanEpps, came in with a miracle treatment. He had cured six patients of heroin addiction in a matter of weeks. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. I demanded he show me at once.

"He called it Genetic Modification Therapy. Now, you have to understand, what we would today call recombinant-DNA therapy, using a retrovirus or adenovirus to modify human genetics, was scientific speculation back then. Even today, they would tell you this therapy would not work. So, VanEpps showed me his notes, how he cured his patients in mere days.

"Virginia Mullins was my biggest lost cause. She had been mainlining narcotics and opiates for years. It took almost a lethal dose of methadone just to take the edge off. Her husband had brought her in, afraid she would kill herself. So instead of her shooting up in the street, I had her strapped to a bed thrashing in agony, insane for her next fix.

"VanEpps put her on an IV drip of this new medicine, then doped her up. Not with methadone, with heroin. 'Keeping her comfortable,' he called it. He replaced the IV twice a day for three days, reducing the amount of heroin he gave her each day. Then he stopped the heroin altogether, and she recovered. Fully. Her withdrawal symptoms were mild, no more than what one would expect from their first or second high. After that there was no recidivism. No urge. She packed her bags and went home with her husband.

"That was all the proof I needed. I was, of course, a little scared. The cure was from a fledgling company called Bailey Pharmaceutical. They hadn't even been around long enough to apply for human testing, much less prescribed treatment. So this was all highly illegal, you see?

"But they came to us with destroyed bodies and destroyed lives, and we sent them home whole. Thousands of junkies cured.

"For four years we did this, but it was only a matter of time before we were caught. VanEpps and I were threatened with prison by a member of the hospital board. We showed him the data, but he didn't care. He was interested only in protecting the hospital, not helping the patient."

"Gene," Sam interrupted over the COM. "Get a name."

"Doctor," Gene cut him off. "What was the board member's name?"

Lefkowitz looked thoughtful for a moment. "Bart Jackson, if my memory is correct. It has been a long time."

"Thank you," Gene said. "Continue, please."

"So Jackson cuts off our budget and closes the clinic." A look of distaste crossed his face. "He tells us if we keep our mouths shut, we get a letter of recommendation in exchange for our resignation. Jackson says that any attempt to continue the project or contact Bailey Pharmaceutical will cancel the deal, and he will call the police.

"VanEpps takes the deal, moves to work at a hospital out west. He passed away—what, four, five years ago?—after a successful career as a general practitioner."

"I'm on it," Sam said in their ears. Gene pretended not to hear her as Lefkowitz continued.

"Jackson's threat worked for six months or so. I was too scared to risk it, but the promise of the treatment was too much. I called Bailey, but the number was disconnected. A Norwegian firm bought up Bailey, and all the employees were laid off. That firm sold all of the research documents to a Chinese company, but I was unable to get contact information. I tried for years to track down the cure, but it was buried and gone."

Gene preempted Sam's questions this time. "What were the firm names?"

"The Norwegian firm was Samarbeide Medisin." He spelled the name for them. "But they had nothing. They never even looked at the files before selling them. The Chinese company was only in Chinese. I never knew how to pronounce it. You must understand that this was before the Internet, and such information can be hard to find. I am sorry."

"Go on," Gene prompted.

"I started a lab to do the research myself. Although we mostly research in other fields, as we must to make money, I was always trying to rediscover the cure. Then, a decade ago I got a call from a former patient. He tells me this fanciful tale that the three men he came with to my clinic have all had psychotic episodes."