The Litigators

CHAPTER 43

Reuben Massey arrived after dark on a Varrick Gulfstream G650. He landed at Midway Airport and was immediately scooped up by an entourage that sped away in black Cadillac Escalades. Thirty minutes later he entered the Trust Tower and was whisked high into the sky to the 101st floor, where Rogan Rothberg kept an elegant private dining room that was used by only the most senior partners and their most important clients. Nicholas Walker and Judy Beck were waiting, along with Nadine Karros and Marvin Macklow, the managing partner of the law firm. A waiter wearing a white tux brought cocktails as everyone was properly introduced and became comfortable with each other. Reuben had been wanting to meet, and examine, Nadine Karros for many months. He was not disappointed. She turned on the charm, and after the first cocktail Reuben was thoroughly smitten. He ran the ladies hard and was always on the prowl, and, well, you never know what might happen with a new acquaintance. However, according to the scouting report, she was happily married, and her only diversion was working. In the ten months Nick Walker had known Nadine, he had seen nothing less than a complete devotion to professionalism. “It’s not going to work,” he said to his boss back at the home office.

Per Reuben’s preference, dinner was a lobster salad with pasta shells. He sat next to Nadine and hung on her every word. He went heavy on the praise for her handling of the case and the trial. He, along with everyone around the table, was anxiously awaiting a momentous verdict.

“We’re here to have a conversation,” Nick said after the dessert plates were removed and the door closed. “But first, I would like Nadine to tell us what’s up next in the courtroom.”

Without hesitation, she began her summary. “We are presuming the plaintiff has no more witnesses. If the pharmacologist were to appear in the morning, he would be allowed to testify, but according to our sources Dr. Threadgill is still hiding at home in Cincinnati. So, the plaintiff should rest its case at 9:00 a.m. At that point, we have a choice. First, and obvious, is to move for summary judgment. Judge Seawright allows this to be done both orally and in writing. We’ll do both at the same time, if we choose to go that route. In my opinion, which is shared by my trial team, there is an excellent chance Judge Seawright will grant our motion immediately. The plaintiff has failed to establish even the most basic elements of a case, and everyone, including the plaintiff’s lawyer, knows this. Judge Seawright has never liked this case, and, frankly, I get the impression he can’t wait to toss it.”

“What’s his history with summary judgment motions made after the plaintiff rests?” Reuben asked.

“In the past twenty years, he’s granted more than any other federal judge in Chicago and the State of Illinois. He has zero patience with cases that cannot reach even the lowest standard of proof.”

“But I want a verdict,” Reuben said.

“Then we will forget summary judgment and start putting on witnesses. We have a lot, you’ve paid for them, and they will be unimpeachable. But I have a strong feeling that this jury is fed up.”

“Absolutely,” said Nick Walker, who had been in the courtroom for every word. “I suspect they’ve already started their deliberations, in spite of Judge Seawright’s admonitions.”

Judy Beck added, “Our consultants feel strongly that we should finish the case as soon as possible, definitely before the weekend. The verdict is all but in.”

Reuben smiled at Nadine and said, “So, Counselor, what’s your advice?”

“For me, a win is a win. Summary judgment is a slam dunk. If it goes to the jury, there’s always the risk of a freak accident. I would take the easy way out, but then I understand there’s more in play here than a ruling by a judge.”

“How many cases do you try each year?”

“Six is the average. I can’t prepare for more than that, regardless of staff.”

“And you haven’t lost in how many years?”

“Eleven. Sixty-four wins in a row, but who’s counting?” This tired line drew laughs far louder than it deserved, but everyone needed the humor.

“Have you ever felt this confident about a trial and a jury?” Reuben asked.

She took a sip of wine and thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Not that I remember.”

“If we go all the way to the verdict, what are our chances of winning?”

Everyone watched her as she took another tiny sip. “A lawyer is not supposed to make these predictions, Mr. Massey.”

“But you’re not a typical lawyer, Ms. Karros.”

“Ninety-five percent.”

“Ninety-nine,” Nick Walker said with a laugh.

Reuben took a gulp of his third Scotch, smacked his lips, and said, “I want a verdict. I want the jury to deliberate briefly and walk back into that courtroom with a verdict for Varrick Laboratories. To me, a verdict is repudiation, it’s revenge, retribution, it’s a lot more than victory. I’ll take the verdict and splash it all over the world. Our PR people and ad agencies are ready and itching to go. Koane, our man in Washington, assures me that a verdict will break the logjam at the FDA and get a reversal. Our lawyers from coast to coast are convinced a verdict will even further frighten the tort boys and send them running for the hills. I want a verdict, Nadine. Can you deliver it?”

“As I said, Reuben, I’m 95 percent sure.”

“Then that settles it. No summary judgment. Let’s bury these bastards.”