John Grisham - The Litigators

“Yes, as a matter of fact. The TV ads are running in Minnesota. The drug is getting a lot of attention. Looks like another mass tort scam to me. Pile on the lawsuits until the drugmaker is facing bankruptcy, then broker a huge settlement that makes the lawyers richer and allows the manufacturer to stay in business. Lost in the shuffle is the issue of liability, not to mention what’s best for the clients.”

“That’s a pretty fair summary,” David admitted.

“So you’re not sold on the case?”

“Not yet. I’ve plowed through a thousand pages, and I’m still looking for the smoking gun, the research to prove that the drug hurts people. I’m not sure it does.”

“Then why did you put your name on the lawsuit?”

David took a deep breath and thought for a moment. “Wally asked me, and since I’m new at the firm, I felt an obligation to join the fun. Look, Dad, there are some very powerful lawyers around the country who have filed this same lawsuit and who believe this is a bad drug. Wally does not inspire a lot of confidence, but other lawyers do.”

“So you’re just riding their coattails?”

“Hanging on for dear life.”

“Don’t get hurt.”

The women were back and organizing a shopping trip. David jumped to his feet and claimed to be infatuated with wallpaper. The judge reluctantly tagged along.

——

David was almost asleep when Helen rolled over and said, “Are you awake?”

“I am now. Why?”

“Your parents are funny.”

“Yes, and it’s time for my parents to go home.”

“That case your father mentioned, about the little boy and the lead poisoning—”

“Helen, it’s five minutes after midnight.”

“The lead came from a toy, and it caused brain damage, right?”

“As I recall, yes. Where is this going, dear?”

“There’s a lady in one of my classes, Toni, and we had a quick sandwich last week in the student union. She’s a few years older, kids in high school, and she has a housekeeper who is from Burma.”

“This is fascinating. Can we get some sleep?”

“Just listen. The housekeeper has a grandson, a little boy, who’s in the hospital right now with brain damage. He’s comatose, on a respirator, things are desperate. The doctors suspect it’s lead poisoning, and they’ve asked the housekeeper to search high and low for lead. One source might be the child’s toys.”

David sat up in bed and switched on a lamp.

Rochelle was at her desk diligently tracking news of a bed linen sale at a nearby discount house when the call came. A Mr. Jerry Alisandros from Fort Lauderdale wanted to speak with Mr. Wally Figg, who was at his desk. She routed the call through and returned to her online work.

Moments later, Wally strutted out of his office with his patented look of self-satisfaction. “Ms. Gibson, could you check flights to Las Vegas this weekend, leaving midday Friday?”

“I suppose. Who’s going to Las Vegas?”

“Well, who else has asked about going to Vegas? Me, that’s who. There’s an unofficial meeting of Krayoxx lawyers this weekend at the MGM Grand. That was Jerry Alisandros on the phone. Maybe the biggest mass tort operator in the country. Says I need to be there. Is Oscar in?”

“Yes. I think he’s awake.”

Wally tapped on the door as he shoved it open. He slammed it behind himself. “Come right in,” Oscar said as he pulled himself away from the paperwork littering his desk.

Wally fell into a large leather chair. “Just got a call from Zell & Potter in Fort Lauderdale. They want me in Vegas this weekend for a Krayoxx strategy meeting, off the record. All the big boys will be there to plan the attack. It’s crucial. They’ll discuss multi-district litigation, which lawsuit goes first, and, most important, settlement. Jerry thinks that Varrick might want a quick endgame on this one.” Wally was rubbing his hands together as he spoke.

“Jerry?”

“Alisandros, the legendary tort lawyer. His firm made a billion off Fen-Phen alone.”

“So you want to go to Las Vegas?”

Wally shrugged as if he could take it or leave it. “I don’t care anything about going, Oscar, but it’s imperative that someone from our firm show up at the table. They might start talking money, settlement, big bucks, Oscar. This thing could be closer than we realize.”

“And you want the firm to pay for your trip to Vegas?”

“Sure. It’s a legitimate litigation expense.”

Oscar ruffled through a pile of papers and found what he wanted. He lifted it and sort of waved it at his junior partner. “Have you seen David’s memo? It came in last night. The one about the projected costs of our Krayoxx litigation.”

“No, I didn’t know he was—”

“The guy’s very bright, Wally. He’s doing the homework that you should be doing. You need to take a look at this because it’s scary as hell. We need at least three experts on board now, not next week. In fact, we should’ve had them lined up before you filed suit. The first expert is a cardiologist who can explain the cause of death of each of our beloved clients. Estimated cost to hire one is $20,000, and that’s just for the initial evaluation and deposition. If the cardiologist testifies at trial, add another $20,000.”

“It’s not going to trial.”

“That’s what you keep saying. Number two is a pharmacologist who can explain to the jury in great detail exactly how the drug killed our clients. What did it do to their hearts? This guy is even pricier—$25,000 initially and the same if he testifies at trial.”

“That sounds high.”

“All of it sounds high. Number three is a research scientist who can present to the jury the findings of his study that will show, by a preponderance of the evidence, that statistics prove you’re much likelier to suffer heart damage while taking Krayoxx than some other cholesterol drug.”

“I know just the guy.”

“Is it McFadden?”

“That’s him.”

“Great. He wrote the report that started this frenzy, and now he’s a bit reluctant to get involved in the litigation. However, if a law firm will fork over an initial retainer of $50,000, he might favor the law firm with a lending hand.”

“That’s outrageous.”

“It’s all outrageous. Please look at David’s memo, Wally. He summarizes the backlash against McFadden and his work. There are some serious doubts about whether this drug actually causes harm.”

“What does David know about litigation?”

“What do we know about litigation, Wally? You’re talking to me, your longtime partner, not some prospective client. We bark and growl about hauling bad guys into the courtroom, but you know the truth. We always settle.”

“And we’re going to settle now, Oscar. Trust me. I’ll know a whole lot more when I get back from Vegas.”

“How much will that cost?”

“Peanuts, in the scope of things.”

“We’re in over our heads, Wally.”

“No, we’re not. We’ll piggyback with the big boys and make a fortune, Oscar.”

Rochelle found a much cheaper room at the Spirit of Rio Motel. The photos on its Web site were of stunning views of the Vegas Strip, and it was easy to get the impression that its guests were in the thick of things. They were not, as Wally realized when the airport shuttle van finally stopped. The tall, sleek casino-hotels were visible, but fifteen minutes away. Wally cursed Rochelle as he waited in the sauna-like lobby to check in. A standard room at the MGM Grand was $400 a night. At this dump it was $125, a two-night savings that almost covered his airfare. Pinching pennies while waiting on a fortune, Wally told himself as he climbed two flights of stairs to his rather small room.