Doubt (Caroline Auden Book 1) (2 page)

“So people are suing the manufacturer?” Caroline asked. The issue wasn’t obvious.

Louis nodded. “The problems first showed up among athletes. Extraordinarily fit people suddenly went into renal failure. Doctors soon began seeing the same phenomenon among babies. Athletes and children. These two populations with nothing in common except general good health were stricken with rapid-onset kidney disease. It didn’t make sense. But then someone realized the common ingredient: soy.” Louis punctuated the conclusion with a jab of his index finger.

“Let me guess,” Caroline said, “the athletes were drinking soy-based protein shakes, and the kids were drinking soy-based baby formula.”

“Correct.” Louis nodded. “Many products contain Med-Gen Biotechnology Company’s high-protein SuperSoy. Have you heard of Rapid Burn?”

“Yes,” Caroline said, relieved to have a chance to appear well informed. Not that it was difficult when it came to Rapid Burn. After its flashy rollout, Rapid Burn had become the protein of choice for athletes and health junkies. The name alone conjured images of glistening bodies pumping iron on billboards and late-night infomercials.

“How about Nature’s Comfort? Soy Gentle? Soy Satin?”

“Yes.” Caroline had seen those baby formulas and soy milk products in the aisles of her local grocery store.

“They’re all still on the shelves,” Louis said. His tone was matter-of-fact.

“Really?” Caroline’s eyebrows rose. Having been sued on the theory that its products were killing people, Med-Gen’s decision to keep them in stores seemed inexcusable.

“Unless and until we win this motion, these products will remain on the market. Med-Gen’s subsidiaries will keep selling them. People will keep buying them and getting sick.”

Louis paused to let the gravity of that moral offense sink in.

“My friend Dale Anderson is the clever lawyer who discovered the common ingredient,” Louis continued. “He’s also the reason we’re involved in this case. He brought us in about a month ago. He represents hundreds of
SuperSoy
plaintiffs down in Texas.”

“Texas?” Caroline stopped scribbling notes. “This is a multidistrict litigation?”

“Yes. There are about fifty thousand
SuperSoy
cases all over the country.” Louis held Caroline’s gaze. “I do hope you recall what we studied in class about multidistrict litigations.”

Caroline fought the same unease she’d always felt when Louis had used her as his interlocutor during the Complex Litigation Strategy course he’d taught as a visiting instructor during her third year of law school. His penchant for putting students in the hot seat had driven some students to avoid his class. But Caroline had always been either masochistic or tough enough to enjoy a challenge. Especially when it was the price for learning indispensable knowledge.

“Has a steering committee been selected?” Caroline asked, refusing to blink. Even though they hadn’t spent much time on mass torts, she recalled the lesson about multidistrict litigation. Airplane crashes. Dangerous drugs. Defective cars. These were unusual situations where many courts in many states could face many almost identical cases. To streamline the judicial process, all of the common issues were funneled to a single judge, whose decision would bind every court in the country.

Caroline also knew that a committee would steer the multidistrict litigation for all of the plaintiffs. Comprised of the top lawyers representing the largest number of plaintiffs, the powerful steering committee would decide all matters of nationwide strategy.

“Yes, there’s a SuperSoy Plaintiffs’ Steering Committee, or SPSC, as some call it.” Louis sneered out the letters in a way that suggested he didn’t approve of the shorthand and wouldn’t be using it. “Dale’s the president, poor fellow. Leading the
SuperSoy
attorneys is rather like herding cats, yet far less gratifying. At least when the cats are wrangled, you can get some rest.”

“How’d Dale end up becoming president?” Caroline asked. She noted with relief that her new boss’s tone had become more familiar. Apparently she’d passed whatever initial test he’d erected for her regarding her knowledge of multidistrict litigation.

“Dale’s a prominent personal injury attorney. He’s also a rather likable fellow. Apparently, he was the only member of the Committee that no one loathed.” Louis smiled slightly. “Regrettably, he’s more of a politician than a strategist.”

As Louis finished speaking, his eyes traveled to a table by the western window of his office. With brass fittings holding its ancient joints together, the small pedestal table had only one chair positioned in front of it. Atop it sat an antique bone chess set. The pieces were positioned midgame, some of the black-and-white figurines beside the board, already forced from the battle.

Caroline didn’t recall the chess set from her last visit to Louis’s office, but she wasn’t surprised to see he played. While he exuded an old-world grace, Louis’s reputation as a master tactician spoke of a street fighter beneath the cultured exterior. Chess was a gentleman’s game—every bit as nasty as a bar brawl, only infinitely more deliberate.

“Dale wants your advice on strategy, doesn’t he?” Caroline surmised, her nerves now almost forgotten as she probed the role this prominent litigator had taken in this high-stakes case.

“Among other things.” Louis nodded. “I told Dale to coordinate the
SuperSoy
litigation before Judge Samuels here in Los Angeles.”

“Why Judge Samuels?” Caroline asked. Louis never did anything without careful thought and a sound rationale.

“Judge Samuels has been on the bench for three decades. He’s a talented jurist with experience handling multidistrict litigations.”

Caroline nodded. Those were good, sensible reasons.

“Also, his wife is on dialysis.” Louis’s eyes twinkled with the secret knowledge. “As a result, I expect that Judge Samuels knows something about kidney disease and the terrible toll it takes on its victims . . . and their families.”

Caroline opened her mouth to ask her boss how he’d learned about the judge’s personal life, but Louis held up a hand.

“Information is power,” he said simply.

Caroline had heard the litigation platitude before. It was one of many that Louis had shared with his classroom of rapt students, each future lawyer scribbling down the golden nuggets of wisdom he cast in his wake. She’d felt an immediate affinity with her professor upon learning that he, like she, was an information hound. She preferred the phrase to the less savory term
stalker
.

“In addition to advising on strategy and monitoring the proceedings here in Los Angeles,” Louis continued, “we’ll be assisting the Committee with the preparation of our side’s opposition to Med-Gen’s
Daubert
motion.”

“The other side’s challenging the science,” Caroline stated rather than asked.

“Yes. Judge Samuels will get to decide whether it is scientifically possible for SuperSoy to cause a kidney to fail. If he isn’t convinced that the scientific literature demonstrates such a link, he’ll dismiss the entire litigation.”

Caroline silently absorbed the significance of Med-Gen’s motion. A single fallible individual would be acting as the gatekeeper for every
SuperSoy
case in the entire country.

“A
Daubert
motion is to be expected in a case of this magnitude,” Louis continued. “It’s Med-Gen’s best chance to drown this litigation in the bathtub.” He exhaled softly. “Sadly, they have a rather good chance of doing exactly that.”

Caroline’s eyes widened. The Louis she’d known from class had always exuded confidence. A supreme mastery of all pieces in the game. This unvarnished skepticism about their chances of beating Med-Gen’s
Daubert
motion seemed out of character. And unsettling.

“You must understand the obstacles we face,” Louis said. “The biotech industry has always painted the public’s fears about GMOs as alarmist. As ungrounded in any actual science. To win, we must prove that the public’s fears have now come to terrifying fruition. And to do that, we must prove something no one has ever proved before—that GMOs have the capacity to kill people.”

The frown on Caroline’s mouth mirrored her boss’s. The task ahead was going to be hard. Creating new precedent always was. But this was especially true when an entire industry would be affected by a court’s decision. Especially a lucrative, powerful industry.

“The good news is that to obtain relief for our clients, we needn’t try all fifty thousand cases,” Louis said. “We only need to beat this motion. If we can do that, if we can convince Judge Samuels that SuperSoy has the capacity to damage kidneys, Med-Gen will settle.”

“How do you know?” Caroline asked. She silently lamented the lack of practical education at law school. She’d spent three months studying the dormant Commerce Clause, but not three seconds learning how to evaluate a case for settlement. It was one of the reasons she’d loved Louis’s class. His lessons on procedural maneuvering were akin to learning how to sneak past the velvet rope at an exclusive club. Useful. And fun.

“If Judge Samuels denies Med-Gen’s
Daubert
motion, the
SuperSoy
cases will go to trial. Juries are unpredictable. Med-Gen could get hit with huge verdicts. Many of them. All over the country. The company won’t tolerate that kind of risk. Instead, it’ll cap its exposure by setting aside enough money in a settlement fund to pay for treatment for all of the plaintiffs, plus a little something extra to encourage them to opt in.”

While Caroline enjoyed Louis’s description of what would happen if they defeated the motion, she knew what would happen if they failed. There’d be no settlement. There’d be no gigantic fund to pay for treatment. Instead, every
SuperSoy
plaintiff in the country would be shut out of court. Forever.

“Everything points to a swift settlement,” Louis said. “Most of the victims are responding to a combination of dialysis and medication. But the medication is quite expensive.”

Caroline imagined the sacrifices the victims’ families were making to pay for treatment. How much would a family sacrifice to save a baby? A spouse? What would they give up? A house? A college fund? Their sacrifices would be as necessary as they would be heartbreaking.

“When’s our opposition due?” she asked.

“One week from today. The hearing will be three days after that.”

Caroline looked at the dates she’d scrawled on her legal pad. A week was no time at all.

“Unfortunately, the current draft of our opposition has some rather significant . . . issues.” Louis pressed his lips together. “Lawyers from a number of the firms on the Steering Committee have written various sections of our side’s brief. The procedural sections. The description of governing law. But everyone knows the real meat is the science. That’s where we’ll win or lose. As a result, every firm on the Committee has reviewed the scientific literature to look for proof of a clear link between SuperSoy and kidney injury.”

Louis shook his head, his light eyes mournful. “So far, no one has had much luck.”

“Doesn’t the proximity in time between the plaintiffs’ injuries and their ingestion of SuperSoy products prove a link?” Caroline asked.

“Certainly,” Louis allowed, “and Dale’s shop has already written up that argument. But it may not be enough. Without some support from the published science, convincing a judge to let hundreds of millions of dollars of litigation go forward will be difficult. I suspect some members of the Steering Committee are quietly panicking.”

“Quietly?”

“These high-rolling plaintiffs’ lawyers are cowboys,” Louis said in his blue-blooded accent. “They’re brash and confident. They never admit any weakness. But they’re also smart people. They know they’re vulnerable. That’s why Dale wants us to see if we can find anything in the scientific journals. I figured you could take a look. Lawyers with science and technology backgrounds are quite unusual, after all.”

Louis smiled. “You’re a rare bird.”

The compliment made Caroline feel like a freak, but she returned his smile anyway. Receiving an assignment where she could both work directly with Louis and add real value to a case was more than she’d hoped for in her first month, let alone her first day. Even if her assignment sounded only slightly easier than defeating the Nemean lion . . .

Louis studied Caroline’s face, as if scouring its surface for signs of misgiving.

Schooling her features into submission, Caroline refused to show him any.

“You really are a bit junior for this project,” Louis said, halfway to himself.

Caroline started to bristle, but he was right. She could hardly be more junior.

“And yet,” he continued, “I know your work from class. You’re always quite thorough. And your background is perfect. I believe you’ll come at the science from another angle. You may well find something everyone else missed.”

A reflexive surge of determination blossomed in Caroline’s chest. Even though Louis didn’t resemble her father in affect or in manner, both men shared a similar exactitude. On the rare occasions when Caroline’s father had overseen her homework, he’d made her redo it if she’d made a single typographical error. And when she’d missed even a single legal issue on a test, Louis had made her stay after class to discuss it. While Caroline couldn’t decide whether she liked or loathed the high expectations both men placed on her, one thing was clear: she wanted to meet them.

“Just tell me what to do,” she said, leaning forward.

“The articles are in the war room. Please set up shop there.” Louis’s voice strengthened, like a general ordering his troops to battle, infusing them with confidence to get the job done. “Review the science. Find me a link between SuperSoy and kidney damage. Give us something we can argue beyond Dale’s pet argument about proximity in time to injury.”

Caroline’s fingers ached with the effort of scribbling notes. She’d known that in leaving tech, she’d be leaving the twenty-first century. But the reality of it still surprised her. And hurt her hand.

As if reading her thoughts, Louis gestured with his chin toward her legal pad. “Please take your notes on the scientific literature in longhand. It’s an old discipline but one that I find quite useful. Something about forming words on a page creates links in the mind.”