An Invisible Client (14 page)

29

When I got back to the firm, everyone had gathered in the reception area. They clapped when I stepped through the doors. The Commandant brought out a cake with a money sign on it. People began shouting, “Speech, speech.”

I still didn’t know exactly what had happened. I had gone into that hearing absolutely expecting to lose. I mumbled a few words about never giving up and fighting tooth and nail, then we cut into the cake. I slipped away to my office as soon as I could. I stared out the windows, the adrenaline still coursing through me and making me jittery.

“Hey,” Olivia said from behind me. “Marty’s out there saying they’re gonna settle this case for at least three million. Is that true?”

I shrugged. “They’ll make a big settlement offer. Winning the motion will be in the news, and the board of directors for Pharma-K will order Bob to make it go away as quickly and cheaply as he can. The families of the other two boys retained lawyers, too. They were waiting to see what happened today before filing suit, but they’ll do that now. They’ll get settlements, too.”

“So I guess we won.”

“Guess so.”

“What did Rebecca say?”

In the rush, I had completely forgotten about telling Rebecca. “I totally forgot. I’m going to head up there now.”

She hesitated, then leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was soft and quick. Then she pulled away, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and left me there, my heart still pounding.

I reached the hospital around noon, passing crowds of doctors and nurses eating lunch in the cafeteria. I took the elevators up to Joel’s room. Rebecca was outside, crying.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“Joel stopped breathing. He stopped breathing, and they’re . . . and they’re . . .”

I didn’t wait for a response. I went to his room and saw the doctors working on him. I stood there until someone pushed me aside and ran in. So many people were in there, crowded around his hospital bed, that I couldn’t actually see him. I sat in a chair next to Rebecca as she sobbed.

An hour went by before we got word that Joel was breathing on his own and his blood pressure had stabilized. We weren’t allowed to see him yet. I stayed in the chair next to Rebecca and turned off my phone. Marty kept calling me. Bob had probably called the office in an effort to settle the case quickly. Bob could wait.

I went to the cafeteria and hung out there for a while. I got a soda and sat at one of the tables, listening to people’s conversations, the way I had as a new lawyer looking for clients. But now I didn’t want them as clients, and I actually listened to what they were saying. Entire lifetimes were recounted there. People reminisced about things that had happened long ago, because the future was uncertain, and all they had was the past. A lot of pain was there, but I heard a lot of joy, too. I had never heard either when I was looking at them as potential clients.

At one point, after I returned to the hallway, Rebecca fell asleep and put her head on my shoulder. We sat there like that until Dr. Corwin came to speak with us.

“You can see him now, if you like,” he said.

Rebecca got up and went into the room, but I stayed. I stood and faced the doctor squarely, watching as Rebecca ran in and sat down next to Joel, running her hand over his head.

“How much time does he have?” I said.

“Not long. He’s in stage-five renal failure, the end stage. The patient doesn’t typically die from the kidneys directly but from sepsis or heart failure. I’ve been working with his hepatologist, and Joel’s also in liver failure.”

“How long?”

Dr. Corwin couldn’t look me in the eyes. He licked his upper lip, which was dry, then looked down at his shoes.

“Doc, how long?”

“Couple of weeks. Maybe just a week.”

I rubbed my forehead. “I know what this is about. I know how the world really works. So let’s not play with words. Let’s be honest about it. You get him a new kidney, and tomorrow, I will cut a check to this hospital for half a million dollars. A donation. Think how much good the hospital could do with half a million dollars.”

The look on the doctor’s face told me he pitied me. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Even with a new kidney, his liver will kill him. Money doesn’t fix everything. I’m sorry, Mr. Byron, but that boy is going to die.”

30

I drove around for hours. I drove as far as the canyons near Sundance, then walked the grounds, watching people hike up a trail to a mountain. I sat by the stream for a while and watched the fish before I headed back into the city.

I had to settle the case quickly. I wanted Joel around to see it. I wanted him to know his mom would never have to work again. That meant I had maybe a week to do everything. But I also wanted something else, something from Pharma-K that didn’t involve money, and I wasn’t sure what that was—mostly because I had never wanted it before. Somewhere, deep in my gut, I wanted to fight.

I rushed back to the office. It was well after hours, and most people had gone home. Marty was still there.

“Bob’s called three times,” he said.

I sat down in his office. Unlike me, Marty had pictures everywhere, mostly of his brothers, sisters, and now, Penny.

“You gonna ask her to marry you, like you said?”

He nodded. “You betcha. Next month.”

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“What’s the matter? You should be ecstatic, Noah. We got a huge check coming in. I was skeptical, but that’s the last time I do that. I’ll never doubt your instincts again.”

“I don’t wanna settle.”

He stared at me. “Sorry, it sounded like you said you don’t want to settle.”

“I don’t want to settle. Tell Bob we’re going forward with the trial.”

“Why the hell would we possibly do that?”

“Just tell him, Marty.”

“No, I will not tell him. And neither will you. We’re taking whatever new offer they make. Do you know how much we’re into this case already? Five hundred grand. Trial might be three times that. We’re taking their offer.”

I shook my head, but my voice was even and calm. I didn’t have the strength to put up a battle. “It’s my case. I’m not taking any offers.” I stood up. “Tell him we’re going to trial.”

I went to my office and sat down. My back hurt from sitting in hospital chairs, and I stretched it from side to side. Then I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The door opened a few minutes later, and Raimi and Marty came in. They sat down across from me.

“I’m not taking an offer,” I said. “You won’t change my mind.”

They glanced at each other. Marty said, “We’re not here to change your mind, Noah. We’re here to tell you this is no longer your case.”

Now they had my attention. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re taking a partners’ vote. And Raimi and I vote that you are off this case. You’re no longer allowed to talk to the client or to opposing counsel. It’s not your case anymore.”

I laughed. “You’re shitting me. You guys are really gonna pull that with me?”

“Sorry, but this isn’t about you. It’s about the firm and protecting our bottom line. You are off the case.”

“Like hell! I’ll call Bob myself and tell him.”

“I’ve already spoken with Bob,” Marty said. “I’ve informed him that you have been taken off the case and that all settlement negotiations will go through me. I told him you no longer speak for the client and do not have authorization to negotiate any offers.”

I shook my head. “After everything I’ve done? I built this damn firm.”

Marty just looked at me sadly. “And so you think you can destroy it? A trial will cost us too much money. We can’t do it.”

“We will win, Marty. We will fucking win. I guarantee it.”

“Sorry, but we’re not willing to take that chance. You’re off the case.”

The two of them rose and left the room. At the door, Raimi turned and looked at me.

“Raimi, you can’t be with him on this. He’s getting married soon and I get that he wants security and isn’t willing to—”

“I’ve run the numbers on this case a dozen times. Joel Whiting is just not worth that much.”

I shook my head. “That kind of thinking, Raimi, is what Bob Walcott does.”

“We deal with rational approximations, not emotions. We can’t do it. Taking this to trial goes against every principle we founded this firm on.”

“Well, what if we were wrong?”

“I’m sorry you think that. You’ll see that this was the right decision in time.”

He gave me a sympathetic look, then shut the door, leaving me alone.

31

The next morning, I heard the news: Pharma-K had settled the case. Olivia texted, asking why I hadn’t been at the negotiations. She told me the company would be paying the Whitings 2.4 million dollars. Of course, the family would have to sign a gag order. Marty was up at the hospital, discussing it with Rebecca right now.

I didn’t get out of bed until noon. When I did roll out, I put on a robe and sat in the living room, watching movies, something science fiction, then a couple of dramas. I ordered a pizza. I ate that and some old ice cream I didn’t know I had. The ice cream was freezer burned, so I melted it a little in the microwave, then mixed it with whipped cream.

Then I sat on the balcony and smoked a cigar. I leaned back and looked over the city. The sun reflected in sharp angles off the glass buildings, big trucks rumbled on the freeway in the distance, and the smog seemed to cling to the sky like dirt on skin. I slowly finished the cigar, then lit another. I kept glancing over at my neighbor’s house, hoping to see Jim, but it didn’t look like he was there.

I got up, threw on some sweats, then sat back down on the couch. I texted Jessica and told her I was taking the rest of the week off and to clear my calendar.

The next day, I did almost the same thing. I didn’t answer emails or phone calls. Olivia texted, saying that the paperwork was being drawn up and the deal was being signed tomorrow. However, Rebecca had accepted the two million dollars only on the contingency that I tell her personally it was the right thing to do.

Once we subtracted all our up-front costs and took a third of the settlement, she would still have over a million dollars left—a good settlement on a case where negligence on the part of the company wasn’t a slam dunk and the victim was a child with no earning capacity. She would never have closure—that was a myth—but maybe she could get remarried and provide a good life for any other children she had. That would be Joel’s legacy: to provide for siblings he would never meet.

I slept all day. When I woke up, it was dark outside, and I was disoriented. I couldn’t remember if I’d fallen asleep at night and woken up or if I had taken a nap and just slept in. I knew I’d taken a nap when I saw that the television was on. I never slept at night with the television on.

I was about to get dressed when I decided to turn my phone back on. I planned to text Marty and tell him I was going to the hospital to advise Rebecca to accept the money. Pharma-K would still do business as usual, and not a single person would be punished for what had happened. But I had lost. There was no point in fighting it anymore.

I went through and deleted messages. One was from KGB. He had found Debbie Ochoa, the woman Rebecca had originally spoken with at Pharma-K, who had told her the psychopath poisoning children’s medicine was a story invented by the company. Debbie was living in California and wouldn’t talk to KGB, but he thought if I went out there personally, I could get her to talk.

Several messages were from Olivia, checking up on me. A few were from Marty and Raimi. I had a couple from Jessica and the Commandant. One was from Rebecca. I listened only to Olivia’s and Rebecca’s.

Rebecca was crying. “Noah, please . . . please come down.”

That was all the message said. She had left it two hours ago.

I raced through the hospital. In the ICU, the nurse, the one I had seen in Joel’s room a dozen times, was sitting at the nurses’ station, staring at a computer monitor. Her eyes were red from recent crying.

I ran down the hall. Inside Joel’s room, two doctors and a nurse stood with Rebecca. She sat next to the bed, holding his hand. His breaths were labored, quick short intakes followed by a long exhalation. His eyes would sometimes roll into the back of his head.

I froze by the door; I didn’t have the strength to step inside. I stared at Joel the way someone would stare at a fairy tale come to life. I had known it was coming, but I couldn’t believe it was happening. My mind wouldn’t let me.

“Mama,” he rasped, “Mama, I was worried, but I’m not worried anymore.”

Rebecca wiped away her tears with her free hand and held in her sobs. “Worried about what, sweetheart?”

“I was worried . . . I was worried how you would find me and Daddy when you get to heaven. I knew there’d be a lot of people, and I didn’t know how you would find us. But I know now, Mama. I’m gonna whistle. So when you get there, I’m gonna whistle for you so you know where I am.”

Rebecca’s head dropped onto the sheets. Her body convulsed in powerful sobs, but she stayed silent so Joel couldn’t hear her. Even now, she still thought only about him.

This was a moment she would never forget. She would think about it every morning when she woke up and every moment before she went to sleep for the rest of her life. It wasn’t a moment meant to be shared with me.

“Sir, please step outside,” one of the nurses said, rushing into the room.

I collapsed into a chair and stared at the hallway floor. Within an hour, Joel had slipped into a coma.

Two hours after that, Joel Whiting was dead.

32

I stayed at the hospital as long as they would let me. Rebecca wouldn’t leave the room, even after they had taken away Joel’s body. She sat by the bed and sobbed. Finally, the nurses said that I would have to leave. They would take care of Rebecca, and her aunt was flying in to be with her. They said I should go so they didn’t have to worry about me, too.

Leaving the ICU felt like a waking dream. Everything was surreal and blurry around the edges. I roamed the halls of the hospital until I found a quiet place to sit in a hallway with walls of glass that looked out over the mountains.

A hand pressed lightly on my shoulder. It was Olivia. She didn’t say anything. Just wrapped her arms around me and held me. I buried my face in her shoulder. I wept, and she didn’t let me go.

Olivia drove me back to my house and came inside. It wasn’t spoken, but I knew she would be spending the night with me. She wouldn’t have left my side if I had told her to.

We watched shows and talked about things we’d never talked about before: about what she was going to do when there was no choice but to admit her mother to a home, where she wanted to go, and what work she wanted to do. She told me she wouldn’t be staying at our firm. She wanted to work at a nonprofit.

“It’s not the selfless world you think it is,” I said. “It’s grinding work. The people you do it for are rarely appreciative and the people you beg for money hate your guts. The ones who donate who don’t have much money, you feel sorry for because they think they’re paying to help people. Most nonprofits spend more than eighty percent of their funds on salaries and overhead.”

“I don’t think success or failure is the measure. It’s the trying. It’s doing your best to try and follow what you think is right. I thought big-firm life would be for me. I’ve never really had any money and that sounded appealing. To hire a full-time nurse for my mom and take her places. I’ve met a lot of rich people through this firm, Noah, and none of them seem happy to me. I wanna try another way. The money will barely be enough to live on, but I’m willing to take that chance.”

“It’s not a good decision.”

“Maybe not, but it’ll be my decision. Not my mother’s, not society’s, just mine. And if it’s a mistake, it’s my mistake.”

She was telling me something about myself, too, but I was in too much of a haze to think about it. My thoughts felt like soup in my head, everything mixing with everything else. All I wanted to do was take a sleeping pill and hide under the covers for a few days.

“I don’t know if I can go back to the firm,” I said. “The thought of talking to someone who’s been in a car accident and telling them how much money I can get for them makes me sick. I might be done with law.”

She didn’t say anything. She just took my hand and led me out to the balcony and we watched the city lights below us. After a few minutes, she said, “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone else.” She swallowed and didn’t look at me. “I lied to you.”

Emotion choked her and her eyes welled with tears. I put my hand over hers and she wiped away the tears and kept going.

“When I told you about that serious boyfriend I had? He didn’t run off because of my mom. I was a . . . I’d never had sex before him. We’d been dating maybe a month, and he kept hassling me about it, but I wanted to wait. One day we went out to this park and we were lying down by the stream, hidden by some trees. He, um, he started taking my clothes off and I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He pushed my hands over my head and held me down. He started . . . he raped me. I couldn’t even scream, I was in, like, shock. A deep shock where you can’t even move.” More tears came and she wiped at them with her fingers. “He didn’t say anything after. He just got up like it was the most natural thing in the world.” Inhaling deeply, she finally looked at me. “I wanted to die, Noah. That night, I wanted to die. I felt worthless. Like it was my fault. Why hadn’t I screamed? Why hadn’t I put up more of a fight? I didn’t understand it. So I went to the medicine cabinet and got a bunch of my mom’s pain pills. I had them right there, on the counter. Twenty of them. I had made up my mind and I was gonna do it.”

“What stopped you?”

“The thought that my mother wouldn’t have anybody. When you give up, it’s not yourself you hurt the worst. It’s everybody who cares about you. I would’ve hurt her worse than anyone’s ever hurt her in her life.”

She hugged me tightly and put her head on my shoulder. I could smell her shampoo and just that—the pleasant scent of another person near me, their warmth, their touch, their tears—made me realize how alone I had been. It stung in a way I didn’t think it would, almost like physical pain.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Did you ever go to the police?”

She shook her head. “I was too embarrassed. I thought it was my fault. By the time I realized it wasn’t, it didn’t matter anymore. I heard from someone else that he was already in prison for raping another girl. I went to his parole hearing a few years ago. I sat in the audience and watched him. Coward couldn’t even look at me.”

I held her and watched the city. I wanted to tell her that if that guy ever got out, I would kill him. But that seemed condescending somehow, so we just held each other quietly a few moments before she asked about the case again.

We talked about how KGB had found Debbie Ochoa. The one witness who could prove liability on the part of Pharma-K. Finally, we talked about Joel.

“It was money,” I said. “I’m rich . . . and I couldn’t save him. Everything I have—all my money, power, everything I fought so hard to get my entire life—it was . . . an illusion. When I needed it, nothing was there.”

She looked into my eyes. “You have the capacity to help a lot of people. You won’t be able to help all of them, but you will help some. It’s the people, Noah. That’s what matters. The people who love you and look up to you are your power, not the money. One of the associates told me Marty was bankrupt when you met him. He was going to quit law and go back to Iowa to help run his dad’s hardware store. The Commandant was working three jobs to support her kids as a single mom when you paid her double what other people in her position make. I’ve heard all the stories. Your employees adore you because you helped these people when nobody else was there to help them, Noah. That’s your power.” She took my face in her hands; our eyes locked. “Fly out to California tomorrow and see Debbie Ochoa. Don’t let them get away with this. That’s what you fought your whole life for: to be in a place where you could help Rebecca Whiting.”

Neither of us was hungry, so we didn’t eat. We just went to bed. Olivia fell asleep next to me, and it was warm enough that we left the sliding glass doors to the balcony open and let the balmy air wash over us.

The next morning, I booked a flight to Los Angeles.