Ray waited for a moment, and when Judge Perry didn’t respond he continued his argument without seeming to be flustered. He continued to score points.
He concluded by saying, “Based on the consistent interpretation of the rules by the courts since the adoption of the Civil Practice Act, we respectfully ask you to deny the motion so that discovery can begin.”
Corbin felt proud. Ray had held his own with Daughbert from a presentation standpoint, and he’d left no doubt about the status of the law in Georgia. Still, Corbin needed to hear the right words from the judge’s lips.
“Gentlemen,” the judge said, “there’s no need for me to take this under advisement or request supplemental briefs. I’m ready to rule.”
Corbin felt the tightness in his chest relax. Judge Perry glanced at Corbin and Ray, then looked at Daughbert and Stamper.
“I’m going to grant the motion to dismiss the complaint. Counsel for the defendant will prepare a proposed order.”
Corbin was on his feet.
“There’s no need for me to hear from you, Mr. Gage,” Judge Perry said icily.
“We request detailed findings and conclusions of law in your order,” Corbin sputtered.
“That’s not necessary,” the judge said in the direction of the defense lawyers. “Keep it simple.”
Judge Perry left the bench. Red-faced, Corbin turned to Ray, who raised his finger to his lips. But Corbin wasn’t going to be muzzled. He faced Daughbert and Nate Stamper.
“You know he’s wrong!”
“Whatever your personal opinion, the judge made his ruling,” Daughbert replied evenly. “And that’s the law of the case.”
“It won’t be after the Court of Appeals gets hold of it!”
Nate stepped closer to Corbin and Ray and spoke in a conciliatory tone of voice. “Corbin, we know you have the right to appeal. We’re just doing our job.”
Corbin wasn’t going to back down. “Which is going to delay treatment for two boys who may die,” he said. “And if they do, it’s going to be on your head! And yours!” He gestured at Daughbert.
“Come on,” Ray said, touching his father on the arm. “Let’s go.”
Corbin shrugged off the contact. Ray left him and began walking up the aisle. After a final glare at the two defense lawyers, Corbin followed him.
FIFTY-ONE
If I thought I could get away with it, I would have punched Daughbert,” Corbin said to Ray as they crossed the street in front of the courthouse. “He needed to be knocked all the way back to wherever he came from.”
“That would have been a mistake on a lot of levels, especially on the heels of your DUI,” Ray replied, trying to keep his voice calm.
“Where’s your passion?” Corbin challenged him. “Don’t you care what just happened?”
Ray stopped on the sidewalk in front of the office and faced his father. “Of course I care. But talking like a madman isn’t going to change anything or make me feel better. If it helps you, go ahead and vent. But don’t expect me to jump in the mud pit with you. We’re different.”
Corbin grunted and pushed past Ray into the office.
Ray held back and didn’t follow for a few moments.
“What happened?” Janelle asked him with an apprehensive glance at Corbin’s office. “He stormed in like a tornado and slammed the door.”
“The judge dismissed the case.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Janelle shook her head. “All of my friends have been giving me a hard time ever since the newspaper story. The whole town is against us.”
“Including Judge Perry.” Ray shrugged. “If there’s a follow-up article, it will be a huge political boost for him. No one will have the nerve to run against him when he comes up for reelection next year.”
“Will you file an appeal?”
“Sure, but what good is that going to do the clients? The Court of Appeals won’t consider the case or issue a decision for at least nine months to a year. At that point the boys will either be in remission or dead. And a death claim for a minor child may have sympathy value, but it would be tough to justify the economic basis for a big verdict, especially with a judge who is going to fight us as hard as the other side. He could grant their motions and deny ours so many times that the case could bounce back and forth with the Court of Appeals like a tennis ball and drag on for years and years before we finally get in front of a jury.”
The forecast of the future was discouraging.
“If there’s going to be an article in the newspaper, someone should notify the clients. You don’t want them reading about it first.”
“He should do it.” Ray gestured toward Corbin’s door. “He’s had much more interaction with them than I have. But first he needs to calm down. He was ready to punch the defense lawyer from Roxy’s old firm.”
Ray told Janelle about Roxy losing her job.
“Do you think she might come to work here too?” Janelle asked, her eyes wide. “There’s no way I can work for three lawyers.”
“No, she’ll probably try to find a spot with another firm in Atlanta.”
Ray went into his office and closed the door. He considered calling Cindy to break the bad news to her, but it didn’t seem right to drag her down. In front of him on his desk was a list of experts to interview. He pushed it to the side. That task had gone from the top of his list to the bottom. He forced himself to work on another case in order to take his mind off their courtroom fiasco. After an hour passed, it was time to suggest that Corbin contact the Kilpatrick family and Millie Watson.
“Have you heard anything from him?” he asked Janelle.
“No, all his calls have gone to voice mail.”
Ray stepped across the reception area and knocked on the door. There wasn’t an answer. He entered and found Corbin lying on the floor beside his desk with his hands folded across his chest.
“Dad!” Ray called out in alarm.
Corbin opened his eyes and turned his head. “Yes?”
“Why are you on the floor?”
“Because I feel like I’ve been knocked out. I wanted a drink but decided to lie down instead.”
Ray wasn’t following the logic of his father’s thought process; however, resisting the urge to drown his disappointment in alcohol was a positive step. He held out his hand and helped him to his feet. Corbin pushed his hair off his forehead and sat down behind his desk.
“We got bushwhacked by politics and public opinion,” he said.
“That’s what I told Janelle. And we need to talk with the clients before they find out about it in the newspaper.”
Corbin let out a low groan.
Ray still wasn’t sure his father’s mind was functioning properly. “Do you think you should go to the doctor?” he asked.
“I should, but not today.” Corbin fumbled through some slips of paper on his desk and plucked one out. “Here’s Millie Watson’s number,” he said with sigh. “I’ll call her and Branson. What do you think I should tell them?”
Ray thought about the long road he knew lay ahead if they continued the litigation. The end of the road was the edge of a cliff.
“We both know where this is heading,” he said.
Corbin put his head in his hands. It was a simple act of defeat and resignation that made Ray sad. He’d rather see his father fighting mad than reduced to surrender. He held out his hand.
“Let me make the calls,” he said. “I’ll lay it out for them. Appeal is an option, but as a practical matter nothing is going to happen soon, perhaps ever.”
“We could—” Corbin started, then stopped. “No, you’re right. I wanted to take one last swing for the fences in a case that really mattered.”
“I know you did.”
Ray took the slip from Corbin’s hand. When he did he noticed a slight tremor. “And I respect you for it,” he added.
Roxy woke up Monday morning and stretched like a contented cat when she realized she wouldn’t have to face Mr. Caldw
eller. There was lightness in her soul during her morning run. Later she sat with her legs crossed in front of her laptop as she studied the profiles of firms on her short list of future employers. Many firms don’t publicize an opening, but she knew they would create a position to land a lawyer they believed could come in and immediately contribute. Her phone vibrated.
“Hello,” she said.
“Ms. Gage, this is Willard Sellers. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Yes, I’m at home this morning.”
“Once again, I’m sorry about your job. I know you told me to contact your brother directly about the water samples he sent me, but I did some more tests and found something I wanted to discuss with you first.”
“What?” Roxy uncrossed her legs and sat up straighter.
“I ran a different array of tests and discovered a very high level of perchloroethylene, or PERC.”
“The chemical used in dry cleaning?”
“Yes, but that’s not its only commercial application. It’s also used to degrease and clean machinery.”
Roxy’s mind was racing. “The water you tested came from wells that aren’t near any dry cleaning establishments. Is there a possibility the fertilizer company used PERC on its machinery and didn’t dispose of it safely?”
“That’s what I thought. PERC is a known carcinogen; however, limited concentrated use to clean machinery probably wouldn’t produce the type of long-term contamination needed to provide a causal connection with the development of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”
“Oh.” Roxy’s excitement evaporated.
“But the levels in the wells present an immediate public health risk on multiple levels, and the people in the area should be warned and corrective action taken.”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to forward you the data.”
Roxy hesitated. “You’d better send the information directly to my brother. I need to stay out of the loop.”
“Fine, but I knew you’d appreciate the issue and wanted to give you a heads-up.”
The call ended. Roxy stared at her computer screen, but she could no longer stay focused on the phony smiles of the lawyers who worked at a boutique litigation firm in Buckhead.
Corbin left the office for the noon AA meeting at the Serenity Center. He sat glumly during the discussion of the Twelve Traditions that provided guidelines for governance of AA groups. The first tradition emphasized the primacy of common welfare and unity. At least Corbin felt safe from community condemnation sitting in the circle.
When the meeting ended, Jimmy came over to him. “Are you fighting an urge to drink?” he asked.
“I did earlier and resisted, but if you’re picking up on something, it has to do with pressures at work.”
“Okay, just remember the Twelve Steps aren’t only a strategy to stay sober.”
Someone called Jimmy over, leaving Corbin to ponder his sponsor’s words as he returned to the office.
“Come here!” Ray said when he saw him. “I’ve got to show you something.”
They went into the conference room where papers were spread out on the table.
“This came in from Roxy’s chemist.”
“What is it?”
“The results of more tests on the water samples. He’s found something worse than 2,4-D.”
Corbin listened while Ray gave him a crash course on PERC.
“Would it cause non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma?” Corbin asked when Ray paused.
“Dr. Sellers can’t say. We don’t know how long it’s been in the groundwater.”
“We can ask Tommy Kilpatrick to check with the guy who still works at Colfax in product development. He’s the one who gave us the material safety data sheets. Maybe he can find out about duration.”
“Let’s do it.”
Corbin retrieved the file he needed from his office and returned to the conference room. He picked up the phone, then stopped.
“Does Tommy know what the judge did this morning?”
“No, this came in shortly after you left the office, and I’ve been reading the research papers Dr. Sellers recommended. Millie Watson doesn’t know about the dismissal either.”
Corbin phoned Tommy and put the call on speakerphone so Ray could listen. Before Corbin could say anything, Tommy spoke.
“I’m glad you called,” he said. “We just found out that Mitchell has been accepted for the trial program with the new chemo meds at Egleston. The big question is whether our insurance company is going to authorize it.”
Corbin and Ray looked at each other across the table.
“That’s great,” Corbin replied. “But I need to let you know we had an unexpected setback this morning in court. It might be reported in the newspaper, and I wanted you to hear the truth from me.”
It was one of the tougher messages Corbin had delivered to a client in a long time.
“But it’s not all bad,” he said, then explained the new findings from Dr. Sellers. “Do you think Carl can find out when and how often they’ve used cleaning solvent on the machinery during the past few months?”
“I don’t know.” Tommy spoke slowly. “He took a big risk getting me the stickers from the barrels. And even if he does this, will it change the judge’s opinion?”
“Not immediately,” Corbin replied. “But Ray and I are working on a way to leverage this into the case.”
“Okay,” Tommy replied. “I’ll see what I can do. Have you talked to Millie?”
“No.”
“This is going to hit her hard. Lance is getting out of jail today, and she’s gone to pick him up. We’ve invited them over for supper to celebrate.”
“I’ll wait to call her,” Corbin said. “But don’t hold off on contacting Carl.” He replaced the phone in its cradle.
“What’s our strategy to leverage the new information?” Ray asked.
“You were so excited when I got here, I figured you’d already come up with a plan.”
An hour later Ray was putting the finishing touches on a memo organizing Dr. Sellers’s findings when Corbin burst into his office.
“Carl says they cleaned the entire line at plant 4 with some type of potent solvent within the past two months. A month before that they did the same thing at plant 3.”
“Does he know what they did with the cleaning residue when they finished?” Ray asked.
“They dumped it down a drain that leads to the creek at the rear of the company property. Carl says those drains are supposed to be for nontoxic discharge like gray water from sinks or showers.”
“If that’s the time frame, it happened after the state EPA cited Colfax for the solid waste stuff it dumped on the ground.”
“And shows the complete disregard the company has for environmental rules and regulations. This is much worse than the violations that got them into trouble when you were in the DA’s office, and explains the dead fish Billy and I saw in Braswell’s Pond.”
“However, it doesn’t establish the kind of sustained exposure needed to make our clients sick.”
Corbin slapped his hands together. “Maybe, but it gives us a chance to run a convincing bluff. How are you coming with that memo?”
“I’m almost finished.”
“Turn it into a letter to Nate Stamper”—Corbin paused—“with a copy to that lawyer at Frank and Donaldson whose name I don’t want to mention. Give them the data from Dr. Sellers and tell them we’re going to file a complaint tomorrow based on newly discovered evidence of PERC contamination and appeal the dismissal of the old complaint relying on 2,4-D to the Court of Appeals. Then draft a letter to the attorney general’s office and let them know that what we’ve uncovered is a huge threat to public health. Whatever happens to our lawsuit, the State is going to have to do something immediately about contamination of the water in every area of the county that may be affected. We’ll give a copy of that letter to the newspaper. Once it hits the street, the attitude of the whole town is going to shift 180 degree
s.”
For the second time that day, Ray was impressed with his father. “Okay,” he said. “What are you going to do?”
“Uh, go back to my office and see if I can think of anything else.”
Ray dictated the letter to the attorney general’s office and sent it to Janelle. He typed the letter to Nate Stamper and Ted Daughbert himself. As each word formed on the computer screen, his sense of vindication increased.
Corbin had stirred up a hornets’ nest when he filed the complaint. So far only people named Gage had been stung. That was about to change. He printed out the letter and took it into his father’s office.
“This is good, but add a sentence that we’ve confirmed use by Colfax of PERC-related products.”
“Should I call Nate and let him know it’s coming?”
“No.”
Ray changed the letter, then ran it along with the pertinent data from Dr. Sellers through the scanner so he could forward everything to the two defense lawyers as an e-mail attachment. He tried to imagine the reaction from the other side. A few minutes later Janelle brought him the letter for the attorney general’s office.
“Is it safe to drink city water?” she asked. “This is scary.”
“I don’t know,” Ray replied. “But don’t say anything about this to any of your friends. Let the government handle it.”
“I don’t think you’re right not to—”
“Janelle.” Ray held up his hand.
“Okay,” she sniffed. “But I’m going straight to the grocery store as soon as I leave work to buy distilled water before there’s a run on it.”
“Good idea.”
Ray took the second letter and sent it to the attorney general’s office with a copy to the defense lawyers. Finally he asked Janelle to fax a copy of the letter to the newspaper.
“Mark it to the attention of Cecil Scruggs,” he said, then paused. “And also send one to the news desk at the Atlanta Journal Constitution in case the local folks try to bury it.”
A House Divided Page 37
