making the unsugared inside taste sweet. It didn't rot the teeth and there were no calories. It was junk food without the junk."

Harvey was sitting on a billion dollar project - one that could have had profound implications not only for the epidemic of obesity in the US, but the pandemic throughout the developed Western world.

Reynolds Metal (who make the aluminium wrappings for lollies and ice creams) came on board, Barclays Bank came on board, so did the mighty Prudential. Harvey had hundreds of thousands of miracle berry plants growing in Jamaica. The American Federal Drugs Administration took a benign view of the product

And then it got nasty. In the autumn of 1973 Harvey's offices were burgled and the precious files ransacked.

"This was a professional job." Harvey recalls. "When the police arrived we discovered that

none of the building's locks had been smashed or broken."

Then the real bombshell. In 1974, the FDA changed its mind about the Miracle Berry product on the very eve of the product launch in drug stores across the whole of the Eastern seaboard. In the most brutal way, the FDA ordered all the products to be withdrawn at once. In a complete headstand, the FDA, which had indicated it would clear the product for use, now reclassified the berry as an additive, and like any artificial ingredient, it would now have to submit to years of testing for safety and efficacy.

Who was behind all that? We may never know, but suspicions abound. Harvey's project ended in near bankruptcy. And today, the Miracle Berry remains a mere party trick for those who can buy it mail order.

Tom Mangold presents The Miracle Berry on BBC Radio 4 on Monday 28 April at 9pm