Sparring Partners(57)
Diantha was not sitting at the table but in a corner, as if she was there because she had to be but wasn’t really involved. When she heard the magic words about the settlement offer, she closed her eyes and tried to conceal a smile.
“Of course, I told him hell no. In no uncertain terms, I said we are not settling, at least not for a lousy million dollars.”
Diantha, eyes still closed, frowned and barely shook her head.
He paused to look around the room, almost daring anyone to question him. “Are we all on board with this?”
Carl Salter was a jury consultant, neither a lawyer nor an employee of the firm, and an old friend of Rusty’s. The two had been through many trials over the years and pulled no punches with each other. He said, “Take the money, Rusty. This jury is not with you. You may have jurors one, three, and five, but that’s only half and it’s far short. Take the money.”
Rusty said, “I disagree. We have juror number two in our pocket. I’ve watched that woman for a week now and she’s with us. She actually cried when Mrs. Brewster testified.”
“She cries a lot,” said Carl. “Hell, I saw her crying during a recess yesterday.”
Rusty looked at an associate and said, “Ben?”
“I don’t know, Rusty. She does cry a lot. I think we have four out of six but it takes five. I don’t think we have the magic number.” Ben Bush had been Rusty’s top trial assistant for the past eight years. In most firms of any size he would have already been promoted to some level of partnership, but the Malloys didn’t promote well. They were generous with salary and benefits but not ownership.
Rusty glared at him as if he were nothing but a spineless coward, then jerked his head and looked across the table. “Pauline?”
She knew it was coming and didn’t flinch. Little caused Pauline Vance to react with anything but calm. She had been on Rusty’s staff for eleven years and had earned her reputation as a gutsy litigator who’d rather fight than settle.
She said, “I don’t know. The case has tried well and we’ve proven liability. The damages are horrific. I think the potential is still there for a huge verdict.”
Rusty smiled for the first time that morning.
Carl made the smile vanish when he butted in with “May I ask a question?” Without waiting for a response, he kept talking. “Did you by chance inform your clients that the hospital made an offer to settle the case?”
“No. It was late at night. I thought I would tell them this morning.”
“But it’s too late. You’ve already rejected the offer, right?”
“We’re not taking the offer, Carl. Understand? This case is worth a fortune because in about two hours I will stand before our wonderful jurors and ask them for thirty million dollars.”
Rusty was never bullied by his staff, or anyone else for that matter. He had the brass balls and fearless temperament of a seasoned trial lawyer. He still held the record for being the youngest lawyer in Missouri history to win a jury verdict in excess of a million dollars. At the age of twenty-nine he had cajoled a $2 million award out of a jury of his peers in a Cape Girardeau courtroom. It inspired him to sue at the drop of a hat, eschew settlements, join mass-tort scams, advertise, network, boast about his verdicts, live large and spend foolishly. Typical trial lawyer.
His career had been on track until the verdicts stopped coming.
He lowered his voice and looked at his staff. Always the actor, he said gravely, “You guys know how much we need a big verdict. Well, today we’re gonna get one. Let’s go slay the dragon.”
They grabbed their papers and briefcases and began to file out. At the door, Diantha said, “Say, Rusty, got a minute?”
“Only a minute,” he said with a phony smile. They were close friends and shared many secrets, and Diantha was probably the only person Rusty might occasionally listen to.
She nodded at Carl, who closed the door and joined them. When the three were alone, Diantha said, “We have a problem, a rather large one.”
“What is it?” Rusty snapped.
“You know damned well what it is, Rusty. You got an offer to settle the case and you did not consult with your client before you rejected it.”
Carl groaned and shook his head in frustration. Rusty glared at him, then said, “It’s not going to matter, Diantha. I’ve got this jury.”
“Carl thinks otherwise, as does your team. I watched their faces.”
“You’re not in the courtroom, Diantha.”
“But I am,” Carl said. “Take the money and salvage something.”
Rusty took a deep breath and seemed to stand down for a moment. Diantha moved in quickly. “Do you know how much we owe on this case for litigation expenses?”
“No, I’m sure—”
“Just over two hundred thousand dollars.”
“It’s an expensive game.”
“And we have a fifty percent contract with the client. A million bucks covers the debt, then we split the rest with the client. That’s four hundred thousand dollars for the firm, Rusty.”
“The Brewsters deserve much more. You should see the jurors look at Trey. They want to give that boy a fortune.”
Carl said, “Yes, they do, they’re very sympathetic, but it’s not going to happen, Rusty. You have not proven liability. The damages are huge, but the liability is thin. Bancroft will eat your lunch.”