John Grisham - The Litigators

To which Nadine quickly replied, “Your Honor, this trial is about a drug called Krayoxx, nothing more. Anything else is a fishing expedition.”

“But as Mr. Zinc correctly pointed out, you placed the company’s reputation into issue, Ms. Karros. You weren’t required to do this, but that door is now open. Objection overruled. Continue, Mr. Zinc.”

The door was indeed open, and Varrick’s history was fair game. David wasn’t certain how it had happened, but he was thrilled nonetheless. His self-doubt was gone. The gnawing fear had disappeared. He was on his feet, all alone against the big boys, and he was scoring points. It was showtime.

“I asked about Amoxitrol, Dr. Ulander. Surely you remember it.”

“I do.”

With a bit of flair, David waved his arm at the jury and said, “Well, tell the jury about that drug. What was it intended to do?”

Ulander sank a few inches in the witness chair and again looked at the defense table for help. Grudgingly, he began talking, but in very short sentences. “Amoxitrol was developed as an abortion pill.”

To help him along, David asked, “An abortion pill that could be taken up to one month after conception, sort of an expanded version of the morning-after pill, right, Doctor?”

“Something like that.”

“Was that a yes or a no?”

“Yes.”

“The pill would basically dissolve the fetus, and its remains would eventually be flushed out with other bodily waste, is that correct, Doctor?”

“In a simplified form, yes, that is what the drug was supposed to do.”

With at least seven Catholics on the jury, David didn’t have to glance over to see how this was being received.

“Did you conduct clinical trials for Amoxitrol?”

“We did.”

“And where did these trials take place?”

“Africa.”

“Where in Africa?”

Ulander rolled his eyes and grimaced. “I can’t, uh, you know, I would have to check that.”

David walked slowly to his table, riffled through some papers, and extracted a binder. He opened it, flipped pages as he walked back to the podium, and asked, as though he were reading from the report, “In what three African countries did Varrick conduct clinical trials for its abortion pill Amoxitrol?”

“Uganda for sure. I just can’t—”

“Do Uganda, Botswana, and Somalia sound right?” David asked.

“Yes.”

“How many African women were used in the study?”

“Do you have the answer there, Mr. Zinc?”

“Does the number four hundred sound right, Doctor?”

“It does.”

“And how much money did Varrick pay to each pregnant African woman to abort her pregnancy with one of your pills?”

“Do you have the answer there, Mr. Zinc?”

“Does $50 per fetus sound right, Dr. Ulander?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t guess, Doctor. I have the report right here.”

David flipped a page, took his time, let the pathetic amount of the bounty rattle around the courtroom. Nadine Karros rose again and said, “Your Honor, I object. The report Mr. Zinc is using is not in evidence. I have not seen it.”

David snapped, “Oh, I’m sure she’s seen it, Your Honor. I’m sure all the big shots at Varrick have seen it.”

“What report are you using there, Mr. Zinc?” the judge asked.

“It’s an investigation done by the World Health Organization in 2002. Their scientists tracked the world’s largest pharmaceutical companies and the way they use human guinea pigs in poor countries to test drugs they hope to market in rich countries.”

The judge held up both hands and said, “That’s enough. You can’t use the report if it’s not in evidence.”

“I’m not offering it as evidence, Your Honor. I’m using it to impeach this witness and question the fine reputation of this wonderful company.” By now, David felt no restraint in choosing his words. What was there to lose?

Judge Seawright frowned and scratched his chin some more, obviously uncertain. “Ms. Karros,” he said.

“He’s picking facts from a report that’s not in evidence, a report the jury will not see, unless he can somehow get it admitted into evidence,” she said, still composed but clearly agitated.

“Here’s what we are going to do, Mr. Zinc. You can use the report for impeachment purposes only, but the information must be conveyed in a manner that is exact, straightforward, and not the least bit slanted to suit your purposes. Understand?”

“Sure, Judge. Would you like a copy of the report?”

“That would be helpful.”

David walked to his table, picked up two more binders, and as he sort of strutted around the courtroom, he said, “I have an extra copy for Varrick, though I’m sure they’ve already seen it. Probably buried in a vault.”

“That’s enough of the extraneous comments, Mr. Zinc,” His Honor barked.

David said, “Sorry.” He handed a copy to the judge and then tossed one on the table in front of Nadine Karros. Back at the podium, he looked at his notes, then glared at Dr. Ulander. “Now, Doctor, back to Amoxitrol. When Varrick was testing the drug, was your company concerned with the ages of these young pregnant African women?”

For a few seconds, Ulander was unable to speak. He finally mumbled, “I’m sure we were.”

“Great. So how young was too young, Dr. Ulander? What were Varrick’s guidelines on age?”

“The subjects were required to be at least eighteen years old.”

“Have you ever seen this report, Doctor?”

Ulander again looked desperately at Nadine Karros, who, along with the rest of her squad, was cowering and making eye contact with no one. Finally, he uttered an unconvincing “No.”

Juror Number 37, a fifty-one-year-old black male, made a hissing sound that was meant to be heard and vaguely sounded like the word “shit.”

“Isn’t it true, Doctor, that pregnant girls as young as fourteen were given Amoxitrol to abort their fetuses? Page 22, Judge, last paragraph, second column.”

Ulander did not respond.

Reuben Massey was sitting next to Judy Beck in the first row, defense side. As a seasoned veteran of the tort wars, he knew it was crucial to maintain a veneer of complete calm and confidence. But his heart pounded with anger, and he wanted to leap forward and grab Nadine Karros by the neck. How was this happening? How had this door been not only cracked but kicked wide open?

Varrick could have easily won on summary judgment, and he would be back at his desk, safely ensconced at corporate HQ relishing the victory and pulling strings to get Krayoxx back on the market. Instead, he was watching his cherished company get thrashed by an absolute novice.

The novice pressed on. “Now, Dr. Ulander, did Amoxitrol ever make it to the market?”

“No.”

“Had some problems with it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What were some of the side effects?”

“Nausea, dizziness, headaches, fainting, but this is common with most emergency contraceptives.”

“You failed to mention abdominal bleeding, didn’t you, Dr. Ulander? Just an oversight, I’m sure.”

“There was abdominal bleeding. That’s why we stopped the testing.”

“You stopped it rather quickly, didn’t you, Doctor? In fact, the trials were terminated about ninety days after they began, right, Doctor?”

“Yes.”

David paused for drama; the next question was the most brutal. The courtroom was silent. “Now, Dr. Ulander, from Varrick’s sample of four hundred pregnant women, how many died from abdominal bleeding?”

The witness slowly removed his glasses and placed them in his lap. He rubbed his eyes, glanced at Reuben Massey, then gritted his teeth, looked at the jurors, and said, “We were made aware of eleven deaths.”