BLIND TRIAL Brian Deer (best novels for beginners TXT) 📖

San Francisco center. Seven on the list were picked out with yellow highlighter and two of those were double-underlined.

Nice try, Trudy thought. Those seven would be Frank’s. But all fifty-six must be checked.

The hourglass vanished and a welcome screen appeared.

BERNEWERNER REMOTE ACCESS

LOGIN:

PASSWORD:

She entered: drmayrgs@blindtrial.com

Pr0tecT10n!

The young lawyer, Ben Louviere, stood swaying behind her, casting a moving shadow across the desk. He swayed toward the screen—now a brown and yellow “Welcome”—then back to sneak a glance across the corridor.

“Dr. Honda,” Trudy called.

“Yes, Dr. Mayr?” She appeared and stood in the doorway.

“Now, I want to do this right. You want me to look at these ones you’ve yellowed, is that right?”

“I think you should.”

“What about the others?”

“Whatever you think’s best, of course.”

Dr. Honda withdrew. Trudy tried to grin. Ben flashed a smile: so handsome.

“Now then.” She keyed the first ID into the system, and a case summary appeared on a plain white background with the volunteer’s photograph and details.

WV000847: Noah James Greenspan, twenty-two at enrollment, with an address in Mill Valley, California. Dr. Abhilasha Dutta signed him up, with informed consent, and remained his clinical contact. A bar tender, African American, self-reported heterosexual, with no history of IV drug use. He’d received both shots by the time of the unblinding. Status code: LTFU.

Trudy tapped through the file. Virology: HIV-negative, antibody and antigen. Unblinded as receiving placebo. Biochemistry… immunology… microbiology… clinical. Nothing of interest. Adverse events reported: stiffness in the arm, flu, a skateboard fall, food poisoning twice. Trivia. All information available in Atlanta. No concerns flagged by Dr. Dutta.

She clicked a link to the federal SPIRE study, not accessible to trial center staff. The white screen turned green, and a dialogue surfaced from the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases in Bethesda, Maryland, with information on follow-up inquiries. Txt sent? Yes. Outcome? No response. Emailed? Yes. Outcome? Returned undelivered. Phoned? Attempted. Outcome? Disconnected. Postal inquiry from trial center? Yes. Outcome? Reply form returned to SPIRE.

Trudy clicked on “Reply form,” and the scan of a printed document appeared. It was a letter from the hospital’s academic services unit, headed “Sustaining Participation, Involvement, and Retention Endeavor” and the client’s name, “Re: Noah James Greenspan.”

The above-named volunteer has been participating in a research project associated with the hospital. Recently however s/he has failed to attend, and contact records may be incomplete.

If you are Noah, we would be grateful if you could contact the SPIRE unit at the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, via any of the email, toll-free phone, or text numbers given overleaf, or complete the reply form attached and mail it to the SPIRE unit in the pre-paid envelope.

If you are a relative, friend, neighbor, or a new resident at the address, we would appreciate your cooperation in this valuable federal research endeavor by contacting the unit using the contact information overleaf, or by mailing the reply form, checking the appropriate box(es) and providing a forwarding address or contact (if known).

Trudy clicked a link to an email attachment from a respondent named Terry Wolchinsky.

Gotten a letter from you about Noah Greenspan. Rented this apartment five months ago. Previous tenants left no forwarding info.

Trudy lifted a ballpoint and ticked the printed list. Frank wasn’t involved at any stage. “Oh, dear God,” she sighed, wiping her lips with tissue. “Only fifty-five more to go.”

Ben swayed forward. “Anything interesting?”

“Interesting? I wish. But no.”

Next, a Black woman: particularly disappointing to lose from the study’s enrollment. WV003977: Isabelle Dada, aged thirty-five. A care assistant in downtown Oakland. Seen by Dr. Honda. Virology… biochemistry… immunology… microbiology… clinical. Nothing of significance at all. HIV-negative, antibody and antigen. Unblinded as randomized to placebo.

Adverse events: trivia. SPIRE dialogue. Txt sent? Yes. Outcome? No response. Emailed? No. Outcome? n/a. Phoned? Yes. Outcome? Volunteer relocated Las Vegas, Nevada. Postal inquiry from trial center? No. Outcome? n/a.

Fifty-four remaining.

“Ben, could you ask Ardelia where we can get some coffee around here? Probably best you go out for it after what they gave us yesterday.”

As he squeaked down the corridor, Trudy grabbed her purse, scuttled to the bathroom next to Dr. Honda’s office, and fired up a Doral Ultra Lite. For five minutes she relaxed with her panties round her ankles and watched smoke rise to a window. Then she dropped the last inch of the cigarette into the toilet, where it struck blue water with a fizz.

Source data verification. Never again.

BACK AT THE workstation, she pressed on with the list until, ninety minutes later, she’d cleared nearly half—and found nothing remarkable with any. No complaints about Frank. No suspicious information. A few date-stamped corrections and a little missing data. But nothing unusual for a project of this size. Certainly, she’d sinned worse herself.

She took a second break before returning to the task, with twenty-nine cases still to check. Mr. Louviere asked permission to visit with Dr. Honda, squeaked across the corridor, and shut the door. Perfunctory giggles and laughter followed, then fifteen minutes of silence. When they emerged, they dispersed in different directions: Sumiko to the bathroom and Ben back to the consultation suite, where he now swayed smelling of liquor.

Next, WV004001: one of Dr. Honda’s underlined cases. Here was Ed C. Bernstein, aged eighteen, who’d drowned after missing an appointment. Trudy’s eyes skipped across lab and clinical findings, then she clicked on the story from SPIRE. Txt sent? Yes. Outcome? Fatality reported. Emailed? Yes. Outcome? Mother rpt: fatality; boating accident, Los Angeles County…

Trudy minimized the database, opened a Google search box, and located press reports on the incident. Seven students had gone out in a borrowed speedboat which sank northwest of Santa Monica. There were touching tributes to Ed in the coverage and an agonized confession from a girl who made it ashore and said she hadn’t known he couldn’t swim.

Now WV005318: Denis Kowalcyzk; forty-two; male; white; Honda client; two shots; randomized to vaccine arm. Nothing. Virology… biochemistry… immunology… microbiology… clinical. Nothing. And WV005991: Machado; twenty-nine; female; Latina; Wilson client; one shot; vaccine arm. Nothing.

“Dear, oh dear, where will it end?”

She’d