“That’s about the way I have it figured,” Devlin said. He laughed. “I’ve heard of ambulance chasers, but these guys are making their own accidents. Needless to say, I think all this will have a positive effect on your appeal.”
“That puts the burden on me,” Seibert said. “Me and my gas chromatograph. These malpractice attorneys must have recruited Trent Harding to contaminate Marcaine ampules and place them in OR supplies. All I can say is that I hope Henry Noble comes through this one last time. I’ve got to isolate the toxin.”
“I wonder if these lawyers are involved in any other cities?” Kelly asked. “How extensive is their operation?”
“I’m only guessing,” Jeffrey said, “but I would think it all depends on how many psychopaths like Trent Harding they’re able to find.” He shook his head.
“I never did like lawyers,” Devlin said.
“Kelly,” Jeffrey said, suddenly overcome with emotion. “You know what this means?”
Kelly smiled. “No South America.”
Jeffrey drew her into his arms. He couldn’t believe it. He was getting his life back after all. And just in time to share it with the woman he loved.
“Hey!” Devlin called to one of the waiters. “Bring me another Bud and how about a bottle of champagne for the lovers?”
EPILOGUE
MONDAY,
MAY 29, 1989
11:30 A.M.
Randolph adjusted his glasses so he could read. He cleared his throat. Jeffrey was seated at a simple oak table directly across from him, drumming his fingers on its scarred surface. Randolph’s leather briefcase was on the table to Jeffrey’s right. It was open. Jeffrey could just see that it contained a pair of squash sneakers as well as a wealth of legal papers and forms.
Jeffrey was dressed in a light-blue denim shirt and dark-blue cotton pants. As Devlin had promised, he’d brought Jeffrey back to Boston, where he’d turned him over to the authorities.
Jeffrey had not enjoyed his time in jail, but had tried to make the best of it. He lifted his spirits by repeatedly reminding himself that his stay would be temporary. He’d even had time to start playing pickup basketball, something he’d not done since his days in medical school.
Jeffrey had gotten in touch with Randolph from the Charlotte Inn after the celebration dinner with Devlin. Randolph had gotten right on things, or so he’d said. That had been over a week ago. Now Jeffrey found himself losing patience.
“I know you think that this should all be done overnight,” Randolph said, “but the reality is that the wheels of justice take time to turn.”
“Tell me the bottom line,” Jeffrey said.
“The bottom line is that I have now formally filed three motions,” Randolph said. “The first and most important is the one I have filed for a new criminal trial. I’ve filed that with Judge Janice Maloney, asking her to set aside the verdict on the ground of errors in the trial . . .”
“Who cares about the errors in the trial?” Jeffrey cried, exasperated. “Isn’t it more important that the whole affair was caused by a couple of plaintiff attorneys filling their coffers?”
Randolph removed his glasses. “Jeffrey, will you allow me to finish? I know you are impatient, and with good reason.”
“Finish,” Jeffrey said, mustering as much patience as he could.
Randolph replaced his glasses, then looked back at his notes. He cleared his throat again.
“As I was saying,” he continued, “I filed a motion for a new trial on the basis of errors in the trial and on the basis of newly discovered evidence that warrants review.”
“My God!” Jeffrey said. “Why can’t you say that in plain English? Why this beating around the bush?”
“Jeffrey, please,” Randolph said. “There are procedures to be followed in this kind of situation. You can’t demand a new trial just for any kind of new evidence. I have to make it clear that this new evidence we have is not something I could have learned with reasonable diligence. They don’t give new trials for lawyers’ malpractice. May I go on?” he questioned.
Jeffrey nodded.
“The second motion that I have filed is to amend the record on appeal of the malpractice judgment,” Randolph said. “This is a Petition of Extraordinary Equitable Relief because of newly discovered evidence.”
Jeffrey rolled his eyes.
“The third motion I have filed is for a new bond hearing. I’ve spoken with Judge Maloney to explain that there had been no harmful intent on your part, and that you had not jumped bail but had simply been conducting a commendable and eventually successful investigation leading to the uncovering of the new evidence.”
“I think I could have worded that a bit simpler,” Jeffrey said. “So what did she say?”
“She said she’d consider the motion,” Randolph said.
“Wonderful,” Jeffrey said sarcastically. “While I rot here in prison, she’ll consider the motion. That’s wonderful. If all the lawyers became doctors, all the patients would die before they got through the paperwork!”
“You have to be patient,” Randolph advised, accustomed to Jeffrey’s sarcasm. “I imagine I’ll hear tomorrow about the bond hearing. We should have you out in another day or so. The other issues will take a little longer. Lawyers, like doctors, are not supposed to give guarantees, but it is my belief that you will be totally exonerated.”
“Thank you,” Jeffrey said. “What about Davidson et al. ?”
“I’m afraid that’s a different story,” Randolph said with a sigh. “We will of course cooperate with the district attorney in St. Louis, who has assured me that there will be an investigation. But I’m afraid he feels the chances of an actual indictment are slim. Other than hearsay, there is just no evidence of any business association between Davidson and Trent Harding. The only evidence of an association is the entry in Mr. Harding’s address book, which does nothing to demonstrate or prove the nature of that association. By the same token, there is no evidence directly linking Trent Harding to the batrachotoxin that Dr. Warren Seibert has found in all the cases after having isolated it from the gallbladder of Mr. Henry Noble. With Mr. Frank Feranno dead, and any alleged association between him and Davidson also based on hearsay, so far the case against Davidson and Faber is quite weak.”
“I don’t believe this,” Jeffrey said. “So for Davidson and his colleagues, it will soon be back to business as usual, although probably not in Boston.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Randolph said. “As I mentioned, there will be an investigation. But if it doesn’t turn up any new and convincing evidence, I suppose Davidson might try it again. His firm is certainly highly regarded in the malpractice field. And the field remains highly lucrative. But maybe next time they will make a mistake. Who knows?”
“What about my divorce?” Jeffrey asked. “You must have some good news.”
“I’m afraid that also could be trouble,” Randolph said, putting his papers in his briefcase.
“Why?” Jeffrey asked. “Carol and I have no disagreements. It’s a mutual and amicable divorce.”
“It may have been,” Randolph said. “But that was before your wife retained Hyram Clark as her divorce attorney.”
“What difference does it make who she uses?”
“Hyram Clark goes for the jugular as a matter of course,” Randolph said. “He’ll consider the silver in your dental fillings as part of your assets. We’ll have to be prepared and retain someone equally aggressive.”
Jeffrey groaned aloud. “Maybe you and I should get married, Randolph. That’s how much it sounds like we’ll be together.”
Randolph laughed in his contained, Boston Brahmin fashion. “Let’s talk about the lighter side,” he said. “What are your general plans?” Randolph stood up.
Jeffrey brightened. “As soon as I get out of here, Kelly and I are going on a vacation. Someplace in the sun. Probably the Caribbean.” Jeffrey stood up also.
“What about medicine?” Randolph asked.
br />
“I’ve already spoken with the chief of anesthesia at the Memorial,” Jeffrey said. “They’ll be working quicker than the wheels of justice. I’ll be reinstated shortly.”
“So you’ll go back there?”
“I doubt it,” Jeffrey said. “Kelly and I have pretty much decided to move on to a new state.”
“Oh?” Randolph questioned. “Sounds like a serious relationship.”
“It most certainly is,” Jeffrey said. “As serious as it gets.”
“Well then,” Randolph said. “Perhaps I should draw up a preliminary premarital agreement.”
Jeffrey stared at Randolph in disbelief, but then he saw the corners of Randolph’s mouth curl up into a smile.
“It’s a joke,” Randolph said. “What’s happened to your sense of humor?”
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s Imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Robin Cook, Harmful Intent
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