Wrongful Death: The AIDS Trial

by Stephen Davis

  Chapter Nineteen

  Monday morning traffic on the Squaw Peak Parkway was lighter than usual and Sarah had no trouble making it to court on time.

  “Mrs. Hartman, you became Secretary of Health and Human Services for President Ronald Reagan in January of 1983, after a successful political career in Michigan.”

  Marilyn Hartman is seated comfortably in the witness chair, although she was not used to being subpoenaed. Messick’s tone is respectful and polite.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And one of the defendants,” he points to the defense table, “Dr. Robert Gallo, worked for you, did he not?”

  “Yes, Dr. Gallo was the head of the Laboratory of Tumor Cell Biology of the National Cancer Institute of the National Institutes of Health.”

  “Which was part of Health and Human Services?”

  “Technically, it was part of the branch of Health and Human Services called Public Health Services.”

  “So, Dr. Gallo was the head of one of many laboratories of one branch of another branch of a third branch of Health and Human Services...not necessarily one of your top directors.”

  “No, but he was a highly respected scientist who had jumped up to lead the War on Cancer for President Nixon. I felt very fortunate to have him on my staff.”

  “I see. You became Secretary of Health and Human Services just at the time when AIDS was starting to spread.”

  “Yes. It was a difficult time.”

  “There must have been a lot of pressure on you to find the cause of this new, deadly disease.”

  Mrs. Hartman nods her head, as if remembering those days. “Yes. Intense pressure.”

  “From the President?”

  “Some, but mostly from my own feeling of responsibility for the health of the American people. After all, that was the description of my job, and I take my jobs seriously.”

  “I can appreciate that. And I also assume that you passed this pressure – if you will, this urgency to find the cause of AIDS – you passed that on to the people who worked for you, particularly at the National Institutes of Health.”

  “Yes, I suppose. But we were all very concerned. No one needed to be reminded of the urgency. Again, that was their job.”

  “As a matter of fact, let me ask you to read the stated primary purpose of the National Institutes of Health from a booklet printed while you were Secretary.” Messick hands her the booklet he had picked up off his table. “Please start right there,” and he points to a particular place on a page.

  Mrs. Hartman finds her glasses in her purse, puts them on, and starts reading.

  “…To foster fundamental creative discoveries, innovative research strategies, and their applications as a basis to advance significantly the nation's capacity to protect and improve health.”

  “So you looked to the National Institutes of Health to find the cause of AIDS. That was their job.”

  “Yes, I did. And I did so with every confidence that they would get the job done.”

  “And I assume that when Dr. Robert Gallo came to you on that spring day in April of 1984, announcing that he had discovered the cause of AIDS, you were...what?”

  “Thrilled...relieved...and very hopeful.”

  “Exactly. And, I would also assume, proud that it was your department and your people who had made the discovery.”

  “Of course.”

  “And it was important to announce these findings to the world as quickly as possible, wasn't it?”

  “Yes. The world had waited long enough. People were dying daily from this awful disease.”

  “It had been almost three years coming…”

  “…and many thousands of people had already died, yes.” Mrs. Hartman completed Messick’s sentence, wondering where all this was going, and why he had brought her all the way to Phoenix to talk about what a great job she had done.

  “So you decided to hold a press conference on April 23, 1984, to reveal the cause of AIDS.”

  Mrs. Hartman stops and thinks.

  “I'm not sure whose idea it was, mine or Dr. Gallo's.”

  “Mrs. Hartman, let's let the court see this press conference and then I'll have some more questions for you afterward. ­Your Honor, if I could ask for the TVs, and the lights....”

  The entire courtroom watches the actual film footage of the press conference convened and presided over by Mrs. Hartman as Secretary of Health and Human Services, where Dr. Gallo announces he has found the cause of AIDS – a retrovirus he calls HTLV-3, named so because it was the latest in a family of viruses he had been working on in his research. He shows pictures of HTLV-1 and HTLV-2, and then HTLV-3.

  After the lights come back up, Messick continues with his questions. But now he’s not quite so respectful or polite.

  “That was April 23, 1984. Mrs. Hartman, prior to that, as a congresswoman from Michigan, you served for two years on the Science and Technology Committee in the House of Representatives. But other than that, you really had no background or expertise in medicine or science, did you?”

  “No, I didn't.”

  “Your appointment as Secretary of Health and Human Services was a political appointment from a fellow republican, Ronald Reagan, who wanted you mainly because of your expertise in management and government operations.”

  Mrs. Hartman is not quite so sure she likes where this is headed now.

  “You could say that.”

  “So when Dr. Gallo came to you professing to have discovered the cause of AIDS, you had no real background to question his claim, did you?”

  “Why should I? He was one of the most respected medical researchers in the country.”

  “So you didn't ask him on what basis he made his claim, did you?”

  “No, I didn't.”

  Now she’s sure she doesn’t like where this is going. How dare he! Better be careful, young man…

  “You didn't have any idea to ask him, for example, whether his virus had passed Koch's Postulates and qualified to be the cause of AIDS, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you even know what Koch's Postulates were at that time?”

  “No, I didn't.”

  “You didn't ask him if he had published his work and had other scientists confirm his findings, which was standard operating procedure in medical research, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you even know that’s what he should have done – had his ‘discovery’ confirmed by his peers before making his declaration?”

  “No.”

  “You didn't ask him if he stood to gain anything personally – and I'm not just talking about fame, but money, lots of money, about 1.4 million dollars – by being the one you presented to the world as the discoverer of the AIDS virus, did you?”

  She had had about enough.

  “It never occurred to me to ask those questions, Mr. Messick. I trusted Dr. Gallo implicitly. I still do. If he says he found the cause of AIDS, then I believe him.”

  “Mrs. Hartman, I want to show you the three pictures that Dr. Gallo presented during the press conference….” Messick walks over to a large easel that had been set up and pulls the drape away, exposing three blow-ups of the pictures everyone had just seen on the video.

  “Mrs. Hartman, these are numbered as plaintiffs’ exhibits 103, 104, and 105. Do you recognize these pictures?”

  “Well…” hesitating. “They look like the pictures we just saw on the video, I guess.”

  “Do you remember these pictures from the actual press conference in 1984?”

  “Mr. Messick, that was a long time ago…and there was a lot going on...so, no, I can’t say that I remember them twenty years later.”

  “Do you, at least, know what they are pictures of, Mrs. Hartman?”

  “Well, we just saw Dr. Gallo on the video say they were pictures of some viruses he had discovered. Isn’t that what he said?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Hartman, That’s what he claimed.”

  Messick pauses to look at
his notes.

  “Mrs. Hartman, what is your first impression when you look at these pictures?”

  She looks at the easel for a minute.

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking, Mr. Messick.”

  “Well, do all three pictures look alike, for example?”

  Since she didn’t know what he was up to, she couldn’t do anything except answer honestly.

  “No, not really. Two of them do. Numbers 103 and 104 actually look like they may be the same picture. The other one, 105, looks like something different. That’s all I can say.”

  “Let me tell you, Mrs. Hartman, what Dr. Gallo said about these pictures. He said that number 103 is a picture of a retrovirus that he called HTLV-1, which he discovered while searching for the cause of cancer. And picture number 104 is another retrovirus discovery he called HTLV-2. It's easy to see that both of them belong to the same family of retroviruses, isn’t it? In fact, you said you thought they might be two pictures of the same thing, they’re that closely related.”

  Messick looks at Mrs. Hartman, who says nothing.

  “Now, picture number 105 is the picture Dr. Gallo presented to the world at the press conference you presided over on April 23, 1984, of his newest discovery, and according to Dr. Gallo at least, the third in this family of retroviruses, which he called HTLV-3. He also said that this – number 105 – was the cause of AIDS. Mrs. Hartman, you’ve already told us that picture 105 doesn’t look anything like 103 or 104. Can you tell me how they could be from the same family of retroviruses?”

  Mrs. Hartman starts to answer, “I'm not an expert on viruses...” and then looks to Crawley for help, who finally stands.

  “Objection. Calling for an expert conclusion from this witness.”

  “Your Honor, I'm simply asking Mrs. Hartman for her personal opinion, not an expert opinion, about how these pictures look to her.”

  Judge Watts pauses for a moment before saying, “Objection sustained.”

  Messick looks puzzled by the ruling, but he knows the jury is seeing what he wants them to see anyway.

  “All right. Mrs. Hartman, if the viruses in pictures 103 and 104 were, as Dr. Gallo claimed, potentially responsible for causing cancer, and if cancer is a disease where cells are multiplying uncontrollably, how could a third member of this same family cause AIDS, a disease in which cells are dying uncontrollably?”

  “I said I'm no expert....”

  “Objection.”

  “Sustained.”

  Messick had said he didn’t think Judge Watts was leaning favorably toward Crawley, but after those two rulings, he’s not so sure he was right. He pauses to regain his rhythm.

  “Mrs. Hartman, isn't it true that you didn't ask any questions of Dr. Gallo, that you took his claim of discovering the cause of AIDS at face value…”

  Mrs. Hartman breaks in, tired of his harassment. “I had no reason to doubt Dr. Gallo.”

  “Isn't it true that you have no medical or scientific background to ask any of the tough questions that should have been asked before calling a press conference and announcing the cause of AIDS to the world?”

  “We needed this information to be made public as quickly as possible, so we could start finding a cure.”

  “Isn't is true that you were so pleased with this political coup, this feather that would go in your own cap as well, that you couldn't see, or basically overlooked, all the evidence that was there, and all the evidence that wasn't there, that would have brought this claim crashing to the ground?”

  “No, that's not true.”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained. The jury will disregard the question and the witness’s answer. Stop badgering the witness, Mr. Messick.”

  “Very well, Your Honor.” He looks at his notes again, trying to calm himself down. He could get really incensed at some of the answers from these witnesses, and he knew he should keep his own emotions under control.

  “Mrs. Hartman, you said earlier that you felt a sense of hope – hope was the word you used – when Dr. Gallo told you he had found the cause of AIDS.”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  Mrs. Hartman was so thankful that Crawley and the Judge had put this young upstart in his place.

  “Hope about what?”

  “I thought that if we had found the cause of AIDS, we were not far from finding the cure, and a vaccine to prevent it.”

  “That would be logical, wouldn't it?”

  “Yes, but I obviously underestimated the difficulty of finding a cure or a vaccine for this particular disease.”

  “Or, Mrs. Hartman, maybe the reason that – more than 20 years after the discovery of what supposedly caused AIDS – maybe the reason we still don't have a cure or a vaccine is because we have the wrong cause to begin with!”

  Mrs. Hartman doesn’t respond, but it is clear from her reaction that she never considered that possibility.

  “Mrs. Hartman, you left the position of Secretary of Health and Human Services in 1985, did you not?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Was it because you realized that you had made such a huge mistake, and didn't know how to correct it by then, and had to leave?”

  “No, Mr. Messick, it was not.” Now she was indignant.

  “Was it because you found yourself way over your head in that department, unprepared for the medical and scientific expertise that was required during those times?”

  “No, I...”

  Messick doesn’t let her finish, hoping to get some kind of rise out of her.

  “Then Mrs. Hartman, why leave a prestigious Presidential cabinet post in less than three years?”

  Crawley gets up and starts to object, but Mrs. Hartman shoots him a look of, "It's okay." Crawley remains standing, just in case.

  “Let's just say it was for personal reasons.”

  Damn, she didn’t bite. Okay. Move on. Messick hands her the same booklet she read from before.

  “Mrs. Hartman, one last thing. Again, from the printed purposes of the National Institutes of Health, where Dr. Gallo worked. Would you please read purpose number four?”

  Mrs. Hartman puts her glasses back on and reads. “Number Four – to exemplify and promote the highest level of scientific integrity, public accountability, and social responsibility in the conduct of science...”

  “That’s enough, Mrs. Hartman, Thank you.” Messick then repeats those lines, obviously from memory, while looking directly at the jury. “Scientific integrity, public accountability, and social responsibility...” He turns back to look at the witness. “And you truly thought Dr. Gallo embodied these lofty principles?”

  But Messick doesn’t let Mrs. Hartman respond. “That's all. Thank you.”

  Crawley finally sits back down, and so does Messick.