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Authors: Victor Methos

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An Invisible Client (19 page)

BOOK: An Invisible Client
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“Oh, right. You asked everyone who had Herba-Cough Max to throw it away and not use it, correct?”

“Yes. We felt that was the safest course.”

“They also can’t test it, can they?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, if they throw it away, those bottles can’t then be tested to find out if they contained acetonitrile, can they?”

“We did it for their safety. Not because we were worried about tests.”

I took out the big guns. A stack of 254 emails. I approached him slowly and stood in front of the witness box.

“How many complaints did Herba-Cough Max receive before April seventh?”

“Something like two hundred and fifty.”

His honest answer surprised me, and I had to pretend to look at the pages for a moment.

“Please read this first email.”

He looked at the sheet of paper, then back up at me. “No.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“I won’t read it. I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to make it look like we knew about all these sick children and we still kept the medicine out there just to make money. I won’t do that. This company cares about people, and I won’t do that to them.”

I looked to the judge. “Your Honor?”

“Mr. Rucker,” the judge said, “those are exhibits that have been marked for introduction. They are part of the case. If Mr. Byron would like you to read one, please do so.”

Rucker shook his head. “I won’t do that. That’s slimy, and I won’t do it. I don’t care if I go to jail. I died the day I found out about those kids. I’m not going to sit here and help you make us look like we’re monsters. I won’t do it.”

“You had almost three hundred parents telling you your medicine made their children sick, and you did nothing about it, and you’re going to sit there and be upset that I want the jury to hear it?”

“Do you know how many bottles of Herba-Cough Max we’ve sold? In the millions. A certain number of complaints are expected. It says on the bottle, which I don’t know if you’ve actually read, that there may be adverse side effects because no medicine is a hundred percent safe. The multivitamins you take in the morning cause half of one percent of the population to go into anaphylactic shock. Do you expect the vitamin company to pull it off the shelves?”

“I expect them to warn me.”

“We did warn them. Read the bottle. We don’t know what it will do to everyone. We don’t know if someone tampered with it at the stores. We don’t know everything—we can’t. I have children, too. You think I’d just let them take tainted medicine? Medicine is as much art as science. It took me six years of practicing as an ER doctor to figure that out. That’s why I’m working for a pharmaceutical company. We help more people every single day than I could’ve helped in a lifetime as a lone doctor.” He shoved the emails aside. “I’m not letting you turn all our good work into another yacht for you. We save lives. What do you do, Mr. Byron? Other than robbing those who help people?”

I swallowed. My throat felt like sandpaper. My heart was beating so hard, I thought the jury could hear it. I fumbled with the papers, and a few of them fell. “I . . . um.” I glanced to Rebecca. She wasn’t looking at me.

I looked at the jury. They weren’t on my side anymore. They were staring at Rucker as if he were someone they needed to protect from me. I sat back down. “Nothing further for this witness, Your Honor.”

42

We sat in the conference room at the office that night—Marty, Raimi, Olivia, and I. No one said anything for a long time until Marty finally commented, “That went really bad, Noah. They were sympathizing with him. They felt bad that he had to be up there, going through this.”

“We should settle,” Raimi said. “They won’t offer the same, but if they offer anything, we should take it.”

Olivia sat upright, her back straight and her arms close to her body, as though preparing for an attack. She seemed pissed, either that we were losing, or that she had to watch me go through that. “They’re still scared. Before today, it could’ve gone either way.”

“Sorry, missy, but you’re not even really an attorney here,” Marty said. “I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”

“Hey, I’ve done more on this case than you did.”

“I’m one of the partners here. You don’t speak to me that way.”

I drifted off and stared out through the glass walls into the law firm. I had lost the case. I had a sense for juries, of when they were on my side and when they weren’t. That one witness had turned them against me. I rubbed my forehead. Raimi was right. We needed to settle for whatever pennies they would throw our way.

For some reason, just then, I thought of my father. I wondered if he would want to see me like this: defeated. In a way, he could never defeat me. One time, he beat me and I didn’t cry. He kept hitting me, and I wouldn’t respond. He stopped beating me after that. At that moment, he realized he couldn’t defeat me.

No, I wouldn’t let them do this. There was something . . . there was always something. Since I was a kid, I’d held an unshakeable belief that if a person wanted something bad enough, the universe would provide it. There was something in us that touched a mystery beyond ourselves . . . there had to be. Otherwise this was all for nothing.

I stared out into the firm for a good half hour while everyone argued. Then I noticed something. I glanced into the office of one of the paralegals across the hall. She had photos of her kids on her desk. Her kids . . .

“He said he has kids,” I interrupted, as the three of them were arguing.

“So?” Marty said.

“Raimi, I want to send out a subpoena for Rucker’s kids right now. How can I do it?”

“What?” Marty said. “That’s crazy. The defense needs notice. You can’t just call witnesses.”

“Raimi, there’s gotta be a way.”

He thought for a second. “I guess if you called them as impeachment witnesses under Rule 607, the notice requirement might be waived. But they’d have to show that Rucker was untruthful on the stand. Otherwise, it’s not impeachment.”

“I’ll draft the subpoenas. Marty, call Bob and let him know what we’re doing. Get the judge on the phone in my office,” I said, hurrying out of the room.

“What? What the hell are you doing, Noah?”

“Winning this case.”

I waited in my office for the conference call. Raimi sat across from me. The phone rang, and I heard Judge Hoss’s voice.

“Mr. Byron, I just received this fax stating you have subpoenaed three of Mr. Rucker’s children.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“This is one of the most underhanded, disgusting schemes,” Bob bellowed into the phone, “by any defense counsel I have ever worked with. To drag children into this is deplorable.”

“They’re impeachment witnesses, Judge. I need them to show that Mr. Rucker was untruthful today. I don’t need to give notice to the defense for impeachment witnesses.”

The judge said, “Mr. Walcott, what are the children’s ages?”

“Eight, ten, and thirteen. Your Honor, I would demand immediate sanctions for sending those subpoenas to my client’s—”

“Hold your horses, Mr. Walcott. I’m making my ruling. I’m quashing the subpoenas for the eight-year-old and ten-year-old. And shame on you for trying that, Mr. Byron. I will allow the thirteen-year-old to testify if he can show that Mr. Rucker was untruthful on the stand. If not, his entire testimony will be stricken. Mr. Walcott, can you get the boy there tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, Judge.”

“He’s thirteen. Just write him a sick note and get him there. I don’t want to keep this jury any longer than necessary.”

“Yes. Fine. I’ll get him there.”

“Good. Mr. Byron, you have a short leash. If I feel you are abusing that boy in any way, his testimony will end.”

“I understand.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

I hung up the phone and stared at Raimi. He said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Me, too.”

43

I was walking into the courtroom when someone pushed me from behind. Darren Rucker stood there, his face contorted with rage.

“You cocksucker!” He stuck his finger in my face. “My kids? You’re going to drag my kids into this! When this is over, I’m going to have your Bar license. Count on it.”

I let him go in first, then I went and sat at the plaintiff’s table with Olivia and Rebecca. The judge came out, and we all rose. He sat, booted up his computer, then said, “The plaintiff has made a request that an impeachment witness be called. I have granted that request. Please bring out the jury, and we’ll proceed.”

The federal marshals, who were the bailiffs in federal court, brought out the jury, and we rose again. I said, “Your Honor, the plaintiff would like to call an impeachment witness before we move on to the next defense witness. We would call Michael Rucker to the stand.”

The boy was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, not a suit, and he looked as though he were about to give a talk in class without wearing pants. His eyes were wide with fear, and I could tell the jury instantly sympathized with him. I would have to be careful.

“Please state your name,” I said, after he was sworn in.

“Um, Michael Rucker.”

“How old are you, Michael?”

“Thirteen.”

“Darren Rucker, the COO of Pharma-K Pharmaceuticals, is your father, right?”

“Yes.”

I put my hands in my pockets and approached him slowly. Then I turned away and leaned against the jury box. “Michael, you’ve been sick before, haven’t you?”

“Um, sick?”

“Yeah, you know, sick. Like with a cough and fever and all that.”

“Yeah, I’ve been sick.”

“When was the last time you were sick?”

“I don’t know. Few months ago.”

“How often do you get sick?”

“I don’t know.”

“Few times a year?”

“I guess.”

I went to the plaintiff’s table and picked up something I had asked Olivia to bring: a bottle of Herba-Cough Max.

“Your dad ever give you this medicine?”

“No.”

“Not once. In all those times you’ve been sick, he never once gave you this medicine?”

“Not my dad, no.”

“You ever taken this medicine?”

“Once.”

He was staring at his father in the audience. I stepped between the two of them, forcing Michael to look at me. “What happened when you took it?”

“I don’t know. Nothing.”

I approached him. He was fidgeting. He didn’t know what this was about, and I was betting Rucker hadn’t told him the details. Michael didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Bob either hadn’t had a chance to coach his testimony, or was too scared to. Children were difficult to coach, and if asked, they would be honest as to what their preparation had been. If Bob were found to have influenced a witness’s testimony in that way—something he knew I would be able to tell within the first few questions—it would be felony witness tampering. He would risk a lot for this case, but probably not prison.

“Did your mother give you the medicine the one time you took it?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Bob said. “This is irrelevant.”

“Overruled,” the judge said. “I’m curious to hear this as well. You may answer the question.”

“Yes,” Michael said.

“Just that one time?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t they ever give you this medicine again? Your dad works for the company. I doubt you’d have to pay for it.”

“I got kinda sick.”

“Sick how?”

“I was throwing up and stuff. My dad got home and told my mom to throw that medicine away. That we can never use that medicine.”

My heart was in my throat; adrenaline coursed through me. “Why did he say that?”

“Your Honor!” Bob nearly shouted. “None of this has anything to do with—”

“Sit down, Mr. Walcott. Your objection is overruled.”

“Go ahead, Michael. Answer the question,” I said.

“He just said we were never allowed to take it because it might make us sick.”

“When did he say that, Michael?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What grade were you in?”

He thought a moment. “Sixth grade, I think. So, like, a year ago.”

I stood next to Michael now. “Your father told you last year that you weren’t allowed to take this medicine because it would make you sick?”

“Yeah.” Michael nodded. He didn’t even realize what he’d just said.

I turned to Bob, who stared at Rucker in turn.

Rucker got up from the audience and rushed out of the courtroom.

44

In the attorney–client room at the courthouse, Bob sat across from me. We had sent everyone else away; it was just the two of us.

He ran his finger across the tabletop, then grinned. “How did you know he would say that?”

“It was a shot in the dark. But I was willing to bet Rucker didn’t give Pharma-K products to his own children. Yelling at me about how much they care was an act. They wouldn’t put their own asses on the line.”

He chuckled. “It was damn fine work. If you ever want to work for a real law firm, you should come talk to me.”

“I’ll pass, but thanks. Between me and you, Bob, how much did they know?”

He gazed at me. “Between me and you, Noah, the world is run by people like Rucker and people like me, who protect him. People like you just watch from the sidelines and follow our lead. It’s better people like you don’t know what people like us have to do to keep this world spinning.”

“There’s more of us than there are of you, Bob. One day, the tables will turn.” I inhaled and leaned back in the chair. “I want Pharma-K to pay up.”

“You could still lose, you know.”

“So could you. They could give me my one fifty.”

“And it’ll be knocked down on appeal.” He paused. “What’s it going to take?”

“First,” I said, “every executive involved in this has to be let go. Anyone who had anything to do with covering up the complaints can’t run that company anymore. Then I want ten million for Rebecca Whiting, with an apology. I want a third-party regulator to have access to the plant and figure out how the acetonitrile leaked into the cough medicine. I also want another ten million set up in a nonprofit dedicated to Joel Whiting. I want them to focus on consumer protection, and I want an independent board in charge of choosing their officers, no one from Pharma-K. And I want the other two sick boys to get good settlements. I know closing the plant is a deal breaker, but I’m serious about full access, and I’ll make sure the settlement contract reflects that.”

“Twenty million to make it go away?” He nodded. “We’ll do that.”

“And I want an additional hundred thousand for a special project.”

“What special project?”

I smiled.

When I stepped into the firm’s office, everyone froze. They stared at me like I had just walked out of a spaceship. Finally, one person in the back, the lawyer with anchorman hair, started clapping. Then everyone else started clapping. The Commandant came up and hugged me and wouldn’t let go. This case had come to symbolize something for them. I was witnessing all their worries and fears leaving their bodies. I managed to pull away from the Commandant and head to my office. Jessica saw me and started crying.

“Not you, too,” I said.

“Sorry. Um . . . Tia called.”

I shut the door to my office and sat. Exhaustion had eaten away at everything I had, and I felt like I needed to take a long absence and sleep eighteen hours a day. With our firm’s cut of the settlement, they certainly wouldn’t need me for a while. We had brought in, after expenses, six million dollars to the firm. The largest settlement we’d ever received.

I leaned my head back on the chair and stared at the ceiling. I could feel myself drifting off right then, except the adrenaline wouldn’t let me. Then I remembered that Tia had called and I picked up the phone and punched in her number.

“Hey,” I said as greeting.

“Rebecca called me. I can’t believe what you did for her.”

“It’s only money.”

She laughed. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Never thought I’d say it. How was the wedding?”

“It’s not until next week. Just going crazy planning everything. I kind of miss how we did it. Just ran off in a little chapel and didn’t tell anybody. I wanted to do that again at first, but Richard’s got eight siblings and said they would all freak if he didn’t give a big reception and all that. I was glad. I wanted to keep that memory between just me and you.”

I took a few breaths, remembering the smell of the chapel when we were married. It smelled like chrysanthemums and floor polish. “Are you happy?”

“Yeah, I think I am. Are you?”

“Getting there.”

“Nothing gets you there faster than finding someone who loves you.”

“I think I know that now. I’m sending you a nice gift. Tell Richard hello for me.”

“I will. Thank you, Noah.”

“Take care of yourself.”

I hung up and only noticed then that Marty was poking his head through a crack in the door. “We come in?”

“Sure.”

He and Raimi came in and sat down. The three of us looked at each other. Marty opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. He just smiled.

“I know,” I said. “I know.”

BOOK: An Invisible Client
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