True by Michael Cordy Read Free Book Online Page A

nervous.
    He approached the reception desk where he was directed to the lifts and told to go to the sixth floor. As he walked across to them the first opened and Klaus Kappel stepped out. Bacci recognized him from the party at the Schloss, but he was deep in conversation with a short, stocky man with a bald head and dark tan, and didn't notice Bacci. Klaus was tugging at his beard and shaking his head. As Bacci stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, he heard him mutter, 'All I'm saying, Herr Lysenko, is that you have everything to gain by staying with us.'
    Bacci stepped out of the elevator on the sixth floor and an assistant directed him to the conference room. 'At the end of the corridor. Just knock.'
    By the time he reached the imposing oak door his palms were sweaty. He squared his shoulders, smoothed his suit and checked his case. Then he knocked twice.
    SITTINGAT THE LONG TABLE IN THE OAK-PANELLED CONFERENCE room, Max was surprised by how nervous Professor Bacci looked as he sipped his espresso and fiddled with his silver case. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt nervous -- or, indeed, the last time he had felt anything.
    He glanced at the file in front of him. It contained everything he and his brother had been able to discover about Bacci. Joachim had once heard him speak at a gene-therapy symposium in Basle. Apparently the professor was an unorthodox but highly respected scientist in his field of neurology and genetics. When they realized he might have something to offer, they had rolled out the red carpet. Joachim had showed him around Comvec, and although Klaus was busy with Feliks Lysenko the rest were here. Helmut sat in his customary seat at the head of the table, and Joachim beside Max, facing Bacci.
    As was his wont, Max's half-brother was dressed in a flamboyant bow-tie and smoked the same Sobranie cigarettes as the father he worshipped. Although he was ten years younger than Max, his ambition to succeed Helmut Kappel was transparent. This didn't bother Max, because he knew it would never happen. Joachim was academically brilliant and their father indulged him more than he had ever indulged Max even, perhaps because Helmut saw more of himself reflected in his younger son's features, but Joachim wasn't a leader: he was too weak and too quick to seek approval.
    'Thank you for agreeing to see me,' Bacci said.
    'I hope we can help you, Professor,' Helmut said, with a relaxed smile. 'We are primarily bankers, but my son Max heads our business-consultancy section, while my other son, Joachim, heads Up Comvec, which, as you know, specializes in bringing bio tech ventures to market. Both may prove relevant to our discussions today.' He paused. 'Tell me, Professor, why did you leave the States?'
    Bacci took a sip of his espresso and fiddled with the small silver case on the table beside bis laptop. It intrigued Max. 'I became disillusioned. The big pharmaceutical companies I worked for did not give me the recognition or rewards I deserved. They say they want good science and cures for the world, but they don't. They just want profits.
    'The big US banks are even worse. They don't care about investing in the future. They understand only one thing: the bottom line. If you've got money they'll lend you more. But if you need it they give you nothing. So I returned to the Old Country and its simpler values, to realize my vision in my own way.'
    'Have you found Italy any different?'
    A sigh. 'Not really. But Marco Trapani speaks highly of your bank and its values. As for Comvec, its viral vectors are world class, and I was particularly impressed by your approach to the revolutionary airborne Tag Vector, which, although brilliant, won't yield short-term profits.'
    Max suppressed a wry smile as he caught his father glancing at Joachim. It was doubtful that the authorities would ever allow Joachim's Tag Vector, based on the virulent influenza retrovirus, to reach the market. Regardless of how brilliant it