By Brian Freemantle
Unique ebook: 2005
[b]A scientist’s surprising discovery pits him opposed to a multinational drug corporation in a struggle for his existence
Richard Parnell is among the major minds in gene treatment study, and he expects the task at Dubette, Inc., to be his first step to a Nobel Prize. but if he arrives on the American pharmaceutical massive, he reveals himself close out of the most avenues of study, remoted from the innovative in a fashion he hasn't ever been before. To strength his means into the internal circle, he needs to forgo ethics. by way of trying out a brand new gene remedy on human topics, Parnell hits upon whatever superb. A shot from his syringe makes AIDS sufferers get better and tumors disappear. the company heads at Dubette are extremely joyful, and rush Parnell’s remarkable discovery to marketplace. yet what's he to do while he learns that, faraway from being a miracle remedy, his leap forward may very well be a recipe for definite death? This booklet good points an illustrated biography of Brian Freemantle together with infrequent pictures from the author’s own assortment.
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Additional info for Dead End
She refused to pause for the writer’s ministrations and did not seem to hear his urgings that she sit down and wait for help. She walked past Dickens in a brisk manner and disappeared into the few trees that grew along the bank. He helped two stunned guards extricate the crushed body of another woman from a flattened carriage and lay the body gently on the bank. A man was wading downstream, screaming, “My wife! ” Dickens led him to the corpse. ” Then the man fainted, dropping into the marsh more like someone shot through the heart than through the lungs.
Her left breast was missing. She refused to pause for the writer’s ministrations and did not seem to hear his urgings that she sit down and wait for help. She walked past Dickens in a brisk manner and disappeared into the few trees that grew along the bank. He helped two stunned guards extricate the crushed body of another woman from a flattened carriage and lay the body gently on the bank. A man was wading downstream, screaming, “My wife! ” Dickens led him to the corpse. ” Then the man fainted, dropping into the marsh more like someone shot through the heart than through the lungs.
Earlier, even before rescuing Ellen and Mrs Ternan, he had carried out his leather bag carrying most of the manuscript of the sixteenth number of Our Mutual Friend, which he had been working on in France, but now he had remembered that the last two chapters were in his overcoat, which still lay folded in the overhead above their former seats. Standing on the backs of this last row of seats in the swaying, creaking coach, the river thirty feet below reflecting darts of dancing light through the shattered windows, he retrieved the overcoat, pulled the manuscript out to make sure that all the pages were there—it had been slightly soiled but was otherwise intact—and then, still balancing on the seats, he tucked the papers back into his overcoat.
Dead End by Brian Freemantle