Due Justice

Chapter 9

He smiled, smoothly conspiratorial. “Since you’re not in competition with me, I’ll tell you. We’re strictly a litigation firm. We’ve been involved in some of the largest litigation in the country over the years. In 1991, when it all started, we were hired by one of the large manufacturers to defend breast implant cases. We’ve been on their national trial team since then. That’s really fueled our growth.”

“Didn’t that company go into bankruptcy a year or so ago?  That impacted your business significantly.”

“Fortunately, no. By that time, we had also picked up the defense of another large manufacturer, even larger than the first. I’m sure you’ve heard of them--General Medics.  Because of trial team experience and ground floor work with the first company, we were able to take an increased role with the new client immediately. That assignment has led to additional work from the second company, and others, and the result is what you see.”  He spread his left arm out, indicting the office, the view, everything.

“Well, I’m sure you’re the envy of all your colleagues. In fact, didn’t I hear that some of the firms involved in breast implant litigation have gone out of business?”

He nodded. “We’ve been fortunate, but it’s impolite to say so.”

I sat my wine glass down, and leaned forward, “Tell me, just because I’m interested. With all the experience you’ve had defending breast implant cases, what do you personally believe the problem is?”

“There’s still a debate among the experts over that subject, and I’m certainly no expert.”  He looked away.

“I know that, but I also know that good lawyers, such as yourself, learn a great deal about the cases they’re defending. I always had my personal opinions, unrelated to what I could prove or not prove, about the facts in my cases. Surely you must have some opinions of your own based on the work you’ve done.”  Seeing his reluctance, I added “Which wouldn’t, of course be admissible at trial.”

He paused with his wine glass held out as if he were about to make a formal toast. His voice took on the stentorian quality he used in opening statements and he started to walk around the room, still carrying his wine glass. “On a personal level, and not as lawyer to judge, I’ll tell you that I think this is the greatest miscarriage of justice that has happened in this country since the McCarthy hearings. There is no evidence that breast implants, or any form of medical grade silicones, cause any type of health-related problem whatsoever.”

“If that’s true, how did we get to the point where there are more than 200,000 claims filed by women around the world?”  I was challenging him, and it was clear he didn’t like it. He began to get red in the face and his tone took on a sterner quality. I was grateful not to be one of his junior lawyers.

“If my car is wet, does that mean it’s raining outside?”  He expected an answer.

“Of course not. There could be any number of explanations for a wet car.”

“Exactly!”  He said, as if I was an exceptionally bright student. “That’s the evidence that’s been admitted in trials in these cases and upon which juries have been allowed to conclude that a sick plaintiff with breast implants means that breast implants caused the illness. No reputable scientist believes that. And on the basis of evidence no scientist accepts, one very reputable company is in bankruptcy and others have spent literally millions of dollars defending themselves.”

“Then how did this all happen?” I asked, almost afraid to push the point, he had gotten so excited. The hand gripping his wine glass was white-knuckled. I carefully moved outside the path of breaking glass.