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Authors: Diane Capri

Tags: #mystery, #thriller, #Suspense

Due Justice (21 page)

BOOK: Due Justice
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I pulled into my reserved spot and parked Greta illegally across two parking places. Building security got the meter maid to write me a ticket the first time they found my car parked like this, and I smiled remembering that I personally vacated it. I may have no rank with the CJ, but I certainly rank higher than a meter maid. This parking garage was built with the very minimum allowable tolerances. There is just no way I'm going to park Greta where she can be hit by other car doors. If the building loses revenue, they should have thought of that when they were marking off the spaces. If all the spaces were large enough to hold a Greyhound bus, we'd all have enough room, wouldn't we?

When I got to my office, there was still no word from Carly. I did some paperwork, and rescheduled the
Jones v. General Medics
case to start again tomorrow. Then I went home and went straight to bed.

The next morning, the hours dragged on interminably. My mind was definitely not on the trial and I kept thinking about where Carly could possibly be, when she would return and whether she'd be dead or alive.

By the time I recessed the trial at 4:30, the inactivity was driving me crazy. Off the record, but in open court, I said “Mr. Grover, I want to see you in my chambers. Mr. Worthington, I represent to you that I don't want to discuss anything related to the case with him and I will not hear anything related to the case from him. If you want me to declare a mistrial and you can appeal this ex parte communication, all you have to do is ask.”

I could see O'Connell's astonished face as I hurried off the bench, while he shouted toward my back, “Judge, this is most irregular!” And Grover was simultaneously exclaiming “Judge, you'll create reversible error in my trial.” I ignored them both.

When Grover came into my chambers, I had removed my robe and was sitting behind my desk. He came in somewhat gingerly, not knowing what to expect. When he sat down in the ugly olive green client chair across from me, I studied him a long moment before saying anything.

Grover looked worse than I had ever seen him. His sartorial excellence is legendary. He usually dresses like Armani is his personal tailor. He usually looked every inch the successful lawyer and I could see why other attorneys would refer their big cases to him. He was well known, successful and a formidable adversary. I didn't care about any of that.

“Christian, I've known you a long time. We've never seen eye to eye on cases or politics and I don't care. I know you're deep into this breast implant business and you have several suits pending against MedPro. Do you have any idea where Carly Austin is?”

I watched him closely. I didn't expect him to tell me the truth, but I was hoping that I would be able to tell whether he was lying. He was a good poker player. He appeared astonished at the question, with just the right touch of puzzlement. All trial lawyers are actors on some level and Grover was in the top ten percent of the local performers.

“Judge, I don't even know
who
Carly Austin is.”

“What you don't know, Christian, is that I know Carly very well. So I know that she clerked in your firm when she was in law school. You definitely know
who
she is. What I want to know is whether you know
where
she is. And now that you've lied to me once, I'm not sure I'll believe you no matter what you say. But answer the question anyway.”

“I'm not clear just exactly what right you have to ask me this question, Judge Carson. Carly Austin, and any relationship I may or may not have with her, has nothing to do with you. I know she's a friend of yours, but that doesn't give you any right to pry into her personal life.” His indignation may have been genuine, but it's hard to say.

“Are you saying that you and Carly have a personal relationship of some kind?” I was incredulous. The possibility not only of Carly having a relationship with Grover, but that she would have a relationship with him and not tell me, was very disturbing. How far was she going to take this rebellious teenager stuff, anyway?

“What I am telling you, Judge Carson, is that it's none of your business. If you have some professional reason for asking me, which I can't imagine in the light of the fact that you told Mr. Worthington you would not be asking me ex parte questions about this case, then tell me what it is. If you're asking me on a personal basis, I don't have the kind of personal relationship with you that would make me answer that. I don't intend to discuss my personal relationships with you. If Carly wants to tell you, she will. Why don't you ask her?” He was belligerent now, feeling he was on firmer ground.

“I would if I knew where she was.” I snapped.

“Just as I thought,” he snorted. “You're not as close to her as you'd like to believe. If you don't have anything else related to the case, Judge, I do have to prepare for my next witness.” We sat there staring across the desk, measuring each other for a few moments until he got up and left. Without my permission.

If I hadn't heard the Junior story, I'd have said it wasn't possible that Carly could be involved in a personal relationship with Christian Grover. Apparently, Carly's taste in men runs from the unsuitable to the unthinkable. As the corporate counsel of a defendant in the breast implant cases, Carly's relationship with a notorious plaintiff's attorney bringing cases against her company would have been enough to get her fired if not disbarred. But then, maybe that's why she hadn't told me about it. Being sexually disgraced in a town where everyone knows everything about you might have snuck up on her the first time. She wouldn't allow that to happen again. She didn't tell anyone about it. And maybe that's why she was so reluctant to pass on Dr. Morgan's theories to her superiors at MedPro. Maybe she didn't want Dr. Morgan to be right.

Poor kid, what a dilemma. If she chose her job, she lost her lover and if she chose her lover, she lost her job. For Carly, who apparently believed she had nothing else, either choice would be an impossible one. I could feel my Mighty Mouse tendencies creeping up again.

If I gave this information to Ben Hathaway, he would believe he was right, that Carly did kill Dr. Morgan. It wouldn't be the first time love prevailed over ethics. His view would be cast in concrete. He'd likely arrest Carly on sight. If she'd killed Morgan either for love or money, her motive wouldn't matter to Chief Hathaway.

And what about Grover? If he knew where Carly was, that would explain his lack of concern over my questions. Of course, that would be true whether she was dead or alive.

I turned it over and over in my head, and I could think of no reasonable alternative but to tell Hathaway. But if I did that, Carly would be arrested and charged with Dr. Morgan's murder. I had to concede, at least to myself, that Carly might be involved in a sexual relationship with Grover. He could be wickedly charming and certainly had enough conquests to prove it. Carly had so little experience that the attention of a rich and powerful lawyer like Grover would certainly have impressed her.

But I knew Carly wasn't capable of murder and the way she reacted when she described the murder scene to me convinced me that she hadn't killed Dr. Morgan. I thought she knew, or at least she believed she knew who had killed him. But what I didn't know was why. Did Carly believe Christian Grover killed Michael Morgan? It was a plausible reason for her behavior. She believed Grover did it and she wanted to protect him. But did he kill Morgan? And, if he did, why? Wasn't Morgan worth more to Grover alive?

This is the point where Mighty Mouse is stuffed into the box and thrown into the ocean. Until I could figure it out, I wasn't turning over this piece of information to Chief Hathaway or anyone else. He already had enough incriminating evidence anyway. If withholding this piece, which I only suspected and couldn't confirm until I found Carly, put the final nail in my impeachment coffin, I'd just see how well I could adjust to unemployment.

I recessed the case for the day. The best way to keep my job, help Carly, and confirm or disprove that her lover was a killer, was to do some investigation into the business of breast implant litigation.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Tampa, Florida

Thursday 5:20 p.m.

January 21, 1999

FOLLOW THE MONEY, HATHAWAY had said. I asked my law clerk to bring me a list of all of the breast implant cases I had currently pending on my docket together with the names of the attorneys and law firms representing both parties. She ran the request through the computer and had it for me in thirty minutes.

I was surprised at how many cases I actually had. The computer list was ten pages long. I asked her to sort the cases by lawyer and defendant. The list I got back reflected the majority of the plaintiffs' cases were being handled by Grover and his partner, Fred Johnson. Only one or two other plaintiffs' firms were represented and then they only handled one or two cases.

On the defense side, there were about five firms listed. The majority of the cases appeared to be against two corporate defendants and one individual, Dr. Michael Morgan. Each of those defendants was represented by E. O'Connell Worthington. The remaining third of the cases against various defendants were represented by as many defense firms.

Most of the cases had been filed more than two years, and involved a husband and wife as plaintiffs. One case was noteworthy, however, because it was a class action, listing the individual names of more than 350 plaintiffs and the defendants were each of the named manufacturers. In the 350 plaintiff case, all of the manufacturers were represented by one defense counsel, E. O'Connell Worthington. Plaintiffs' counsel was Grover.

I then looked at the trial calendar. Because 95% of all civil cases settle, I schedule about twenty trials a week during my jury term and twenty-five trials a week during non-jury term. There were 10-15 breast implant trials scheduled every jury term for the next twelve months.

The class action case was scheduled for trial six months hence. As many cases as were still on my docket, more than twice that many had been transferred to Federal Court in Georgia to the multi-district litigation being handled by my good friend, Judge Franklin. I had no idea what was happening with Judge Franklin's cases, and I called him. Miraculously, he was available to speak to me.

After the pleasantries were exchanged, I asked “Steve, what is the status of the breast implant litigation you're handling these days?”

“We've got a global settlement almost completely negotiated. It's been approved by the plaintiffs and the defendants. I have a couple of motions by insurance companies and Medicare and Medicaid to decide and then I'll make a decision on final approval.”

“What will happen to the settlement if it is not approved?”

“I haven't let myself think about that,” he laughed. “But, if that should happen, then I guess we'll start having trials on all four-hundred-forty-thousand claims. I figure I'll get done about the time I am scheduled to depart the earth, or this will kill me prematurely!”

I laughed politely in commiseration. Judges don't get paid overtime. “And what will happen after the settlement is approved, if it is?”

“After approval, the only step left is for the individual plaintiffs to submit the medical proof necessary to establish their entitlement to payments under the terms of the settlement grid.”

“Settlement grid?” I felt like I was learning a foreign language.

“We've worked out a system where women with different types of diseases will be paid different sums of money. The least amount a woman will be paid is five-thousand and the most is one million.”

I whistled. “That's a hell of a lot of money, especially to the lawyers. How will the legal fees be paid?”

“Well on the plaintiff's side, I want to limit transaction costs to twenty-five percent of the total settlement amount. Of course, the plaintiffs are squealing like stuck pigs over that because they're used to forty percent fees, exclusive of costs, and the defendants are objecting that it's too high because they're the ones that get to pay it.”

The figures he quoted were staggering. Following the money seemed to be the first rule for lawyers as well as murder investigators. “And what about defense attorney fees?”

“Defense attorneys will be paid by the defendants through whatever arrangements the defendants have made for paying them. I haven't gotten into that because the defendants haven't asked me to. I don't see how I could resolve that anyway.”

“There seems to be some new urgency in my courtroom by the plaintiffs to get these cases on for trial. I noticed today that I've got ten trials set every jury term for the next twelve months. Do you have any idea why?”

“I think that's happening all over the country, partly because it pressures the defendants to settle and partly because in the last several months the scientific studies that have come out have all been supporting the defense side. The plaintiffs feel they're playing beat the clock. If they don't get their judgments soon, they're worried the defendants will start trying the causation issues and winning. The defendants are pushing the cases to trial because they think they can win or at least they can make the plaintiffs work and then the plaintiffs' will get more reasonable. If I don't get this settlement put to bed pretty soon, I'm afraid the whole thing will fall apart.”

BOOK: Due Justice
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