Gray Mountain: A Novel(69)

Donovan made eye contact with Samantha, who quickly shook her head. No, I haven’t said a word. He said, “We’re still investigating, and signing up clients.”

“Clients mean a lawsuit, right? Not prying here, just a bit curious. It sounds like a massive case, and a very expensive one. Krull Mining is a monster.”

“I know Krull very well,” Donovan said, with caution. Not for a split second would he trust Marshall Kofer with any information he might swap or barter in another deal. When it was obvious he preferred not to talk about the case, Marshall said, “Oh well, I know two funds that specialize in toxic waste cases. It’s an extremely lucrative area, I might add.”

Is everything lucrative, Dad? Samantha wanted to ask. Then she thought, What a perfect match! Donovan Gray and his gang who either have possession of, or access to, a treasure trove of ill-gotten documents once owned by Krull Mining, and the Kofer Group, a gang of disbarred lawyers who no doubt would bend the law again if put in a bind. That was just in one corner. In the other corner was Krull Mining, a company with the worst safety record in the history of U.S. coal production and an owner who was reputed to be one of the deadliest Russian gangsters in Putin’s frat pack. And in the center of the ring, and dodging bullets, were the poor and suffering souls of Hammer Valley who’d been cajoled out of their trailers and sweet-talked into signing up for this thrilling adventure into American tort law. They would be named as plaintiffs and sue for a billion dollars. If they got a thousand they’d spend it on cigarettes and lottery tickets. Wow! Samantha chugged her beer and once again vowed to avoid serious litigation. She watched football on two screens but had no idea who was playing.

Marshall was telling a story about two jets—one from Korea and one from India—that collided over the Hanoi airport in 1992. Everybody was dead and nobody was from America; however, Marshall filed suit in Houston where the juries understand big verdicts. This fascinated Donovan, and Jeff seemed mildly interested. That was enough of an audience for Marshall. Samantha kept watching the game.

After one beer—Donovan was piloting—they walked back to the office and said good-bye. Samantha noticed that the sun was out and the sky was clear. Perhaps the ride home would be nice and smooth, with great visibility.

She pecked her father on the cheek and promised to call later.





22


The Tate verdict brought excitement to the area and was a source of endless gossip and speculation. According to a story in the Roanoke paper, Strayhorn Coal was promising a vigorous appeal. Its lawyers had little to say, but others were not so timid. A vice president of the company called the verdict “shocking.” A mouthpiece for some economic development group worried that “such a huge verdict” might harm the state’s reputation as a place favorable to business. One of the jurors (unnamed) was quoted and said there had been a lot of tears in the jury room. Lisa Tate was unavailable for comment, but her lawyer was not.

Samantha watched and listened and had late-night drinks with Donovan and Jeff. Diet soda for her, Dickel for them. Strayhorn might have been posturing when it promised an appeal, but Donovan said the company really wanted to settle. With two dead kids at issue, the company knew it would be difficult to ever win. The punitive damages would be automatically reduced from a million to $350,000, so roughly a quarter of the verdict was already gone. The company offered $1.5 million to settle on the Tuesday after the verdict, and Lisa Tate wanted to take it. Donovan let it slip that he was getting 40 percent, so he could smell a nice payday.

On Wednesday, he, Jeff, and Samantha met with Buddy and Mavis Ryzer to discuss the potential lawsuit against Lonerock Coal and Casper Slate. The Ryzers were devastated to learn that the law firm had known for years that Buddy was suffering from black lung, yet hid the evidence. Buddy angrily said, “Sue the bastards for everything,” and never, during the two-hour meeting, backed down. The couple left Donovan’s office mad and determined to fight until it was over. That night, again over drinks, Donovan confided to Samantha and Jeff that he had mentioned the lawsuit to two of his closest trial lawyer buddies, two guys in different firms in West Virginia. Neither had an interest in spending the next five years brawling with Casper Slate, regardless of how egregious its behavior.

A week later, Donovan flew to Charleston, West Virginia, to file the Hammer Valley contamination case. Outside the federal courthouse, facing a gang of reporters and with four other lawyers beside him, he laid out their case against Krull Mining. “Russian owned,” of course. He claimed the company had been polluting the groundwater for fifteen years; that it knew what was happening and covered it up; and that Krull Mining had known for at least the last ten years that its chemicals were causing one of the highest rates of cancer in America. Donovan confidently said, “We’ll prove it all, and we have the documents to back it up.” He was lead counsel and his group represented over forty families in Hammer Valley.

Like most trial lawyers, Donovan loved the attention. Samantha suspected he rushed the Hammer Valley filing because he was still in the spotlight from the Tate verdict. She tried to back away and ignore the Gray brothers for a few days, but they were persistent. Jeff wanted to have dinner. Donovan needed her advice, he said, because both of them represented Buddy Ryzer. She was aware of his growing frustration with his trial lawyer friends, none of whom were showing any enthusiasm for tackling Casper Slate. Donovan said more than once he would go solo, if necessary. “More of the fee for me,” he said. He became obsessed with the case and talked to Marshall Kofer every day. To their surprise, Marshall came through with the money. A litigation fund was offering a line of cash of up to $2 million for 30 percent of the recovery.