Wrongful Death: The AIDS Trial

by Stephen Davis

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Twenty minutes later, as Crawley enters his firm’s large conference room on the 17th floor of the Collier Building, just six blocks from the Federal Courthouse, the rest of the team was already arguing amongst themselves. Crawley overhears some of it as he makes his way to the head of the table: “should have cross-examined,” “crazy not to put on a defense,” “what was he thinking?”, “didn’t know Gallo had such power over The Man.”

  Crawley stands behind his chair waiting for everyone to notice his presence and cease their individual conversations. When it is finally quiet, in a controlled but powerful voice, Crawley says, “All right. You've had enough time. I want some answers.”

  When Dr. Gallo stands and starts to speak first, Crawley interrupts before the first word is audible. “Not you, Dr. Gallo. I don’t ever want to hear from you again. We’ve all listened to you for much too long, me in particular. You were able to bullshit me almost as long as you bullshitted the entire country, but now it’s over. You may remain there in your seat and listen while the rest talk or you can leave the room and find other counsel to represent you. It’s your choice.”

  Gallo looks angry, but he sits down dutifully. Crawley takes that as a sign that he’s staying. “Now, how about the rest of you?”

  Mr. Fogerty, representing the FDA, was the first to speak up. “I think they’ve made quite a strong case to be honest, and I think we're in deep trouble. The biggest problem is, obviously, we committed to not defending ourselves in the very beginning.”

  “I take full responsibility for that,” Crawley admitted. “I was certain, from everything Dr. Gallo told me, that this was a frivolous lawsuit and we didn’t need to say a word.”

  “I….” Gallo starts to speak.

  “I thought I told you to sit down and shut up, Dr. Gallo!” Crawley is really pissed now. “Look, we didn't put you in this position. You did, by your actions twenty-some years ago. We're trying to get you out of this the best way we can. You're not making it any easier for us, and your comments are no longer welcome. So please shut up! And I want to remind all of you that we discussed not putting on a defense as a group at length before this trial began, and we were in agreement about how to proceed.”

  “Based on the information we had,” Fogerty is quick to add.

  “Yes, and in hindsight that information seems to have been very wrong,” Crawley agrees, while looking directly at Dr. Gallo.

  Mr. Crenshaw from the Department of Health and Human Services raises his hand, and Crawley nods at him. “But I think it would be deadly to change our position now. The jury's going to remember that we said we weren't going to mount a defense. If we stand up and argue now, it makes us look weak, like we're scared, like...”

  “…like we're a bunch of pansies running around with our heads up our arses.” It was Mr. Gladstone, for GlaxoSmithKline, who breaks in with his courtly British accent.

  Crawley nods. “The way I see it, anything we try to do now is not going to be received well by the jury. I think our best bet is to settle this case before we reconvene at two.”

  The lesser legal members of the team let out gasps. One even says, “Oh my god!” But the head lawyers, all of them, know that Crawley is speaking the truth, as heretical as it is.

  “Well, let me put it to you this way,” Crawley continues. “I have already turned in my letter of resignation to this firm. I'm finished as a lawyer. This case did me in. It was time for me to step down anyway, but I'm sick to death of this. You can either agree, as my partners in this case, to offer to settle with the plaintiffs, or I'll go to the judge and try my damnedest to be removed from this case as your lead attorney and let you proceed on your own. But I figure the only way I can convince Judge Watts to let me off the hook is to tell her the truth – that after hearing all the evidence, I agree with the plaintiffs and can no longer put on a proper defense. That obviously will be disastrous for all of you, not just Dr. Gallo, and maybe for me personally as well. But so what if I’m disbarred? I never want to practice law again, and I'm no longer willing to continue this farce. It's that simple. I'll go to bat to secure a settlement before two o'clock this afternoon, or I'm out of here. Is that clear?”

  Everyone sits stunned for a moment. Then Crenshaw, since Health and Human Services had the least to lose, asks a loaded question. “It seems to me like Baker is pretty much in the driver's seat as it is. Why do you think he would even consider a settlement?”

  It’s obvious that Crawley had given this a lot of thought, because he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Two reasons. Number one, which is something apparently none of you have figured out yet, the main thing Baker is after, and Messick before him, is a platform to get the truth out about AIDS and HIV and AZT to the American public. No one had succeeded in doing that in the last thirty years, thanks to the media blackout. The only way to break through that was a court case like this, which the media would have to cover, and in the process, the truth would surface. They've had their day in court, and they're satisfied. The whole world finally knows the real story. I bet Baker, and whoever else is on that team, could walk away today feeling totally victorious, even if they didn't take home a penny. It's never been about the money, as I see it.”

  Fogerty is doubtful. “I wonder whether their clients would feel the same way, but what's the second reason?”

  “They would consider a settlement for the same reasons we are – the uncertainty of a jury. Three trillion dollars is a whole lot of money – 1000 times more than the largest settlement in legal history. There's a fifty-fifty chance the jury wouldn't be able to deal with the enormity of that number and make it something substantially less.”

  “So you think that Baker would really settle for less than three trillion?”

  “I’m certain he would. And as far as I'm concerned, it’s the smartest thing we could do, considering the circumstances. We can't afford an outright verdict in this case, because I’m convinced it would go against us.”

  “Offer 'em a hundred million!”

  Crawley had never really liked Gladstone, and now that he had listened to the evidence in this trial about the activities of GlaxoSmithKline, aka Burroughs Wellcome and Glaxo Wellcome, he liked him even less. After all, Crawley really wasn’t a bad person deep down, despite being a lawyer.

  “Gladstone, you're out of your fucking mind! For a class of 300,000 victims? That's just, what, a little over $300 per person for a human life! I wouldn't consider offering such an insult. And as far as I’m concerned, whatever settlement amount we come up with, I think GlaxoSmithKline should pay at least half, if not more.” Crawley tries to catch his breath and settle down a little. “In fact, since I'm the one that's going to be presenting this offer, I'm going to tell you what I'm willing to take to Mr. Baker.”

  Crawley picks up a legal pad and makes a few scribbles on it. “Of course, we would require that the amount of the settlement never be disclosed, but in these days of media leaks, I'm sure it'll be on GNN before the Judge even hears it. So I'm willing to represent an amount that is going to reasonably compensate the victims, and yet try to save us a little face.” He scribbles some more and then puts down his pad. “900 billion – three million per victim – less than one-third of what they’ve asked for.”

  Crawley’s proposal is greeted with various degrees of disbelief and consternation, like “You’ve got to be kidding.” Even Gallo gets in his two cents with: “Bullshit.”

  Gladstone waits until most of the group calmed down and coolly says, “On behalf of GlaxoSmithKline, I say: no way. As a matter of fact, I will be filing a petition with the court before we reconvene to separate us from the rest of you in this case, and we will mount our own defense.”

  “It's a little late for that, don't you think?” Crawley asks.

  “We're going to let the judge decide that. And if I were you, I would certainly hope she rules in our favor, or I'll also have a malpractice suit on your desk by this afternoon. I've n
ever seen a case so badly handled...” and he packs up his briefcase in preparation to leave.

  “All right, Gladstone. If I can negotiate a settlement before two, I will let you present your motion first, before informing the Judge of the settlement. But hear this. Dr. Gallo and the FDA and the Department of Health and Human Services are only going to take responsibility for one-third of the award. If you succeed in separating Burroughs Wellcome from the rest of us, I’ll make sure you’re saddled with the other two-thirds, or two trillion dollars if you lose, and I not only think you will lose, but I’m secretly hoping that you do.”

  After Gladstone has left with his two backup lawyers in tow, Crawley returns to the business at hand. “That leaves my client, Dr. Gallo, and the FDA and the Department of Health and Human Services. Either Dr. Gallo leaves now and gets another attorney, or I speak for him when I say we’re going to settle. Dr. Gallo?”

  Gallo remains seated, resigned to his fate.

  “Alright, Dr. Gallo. Good decision. Maybe the best one you’ve made in twenty-five years. I certainly hope you invested that 1.7 million dollars in royalty money wisely and have a fairly good-sized nest egg hidden in Switzerland or the Bahamas, because they're going to take everything from you they can find. And they will garnish every penny you make on royalties from your new Institute of Human Virology and Omega Biotherapies as well.”

  Crawley is about to continue when he remembers, “Oh, and Dr. Gallo, if I were Baker, I'd want your assistance in securing the resignations of any your cronies – any of the ‘Bob Club’ – still left in positions of scientific authority, like Dr. Fauci at the National Institute of Allergic and Infectious Diseases, and Dr. Bolognesi at Duke University, if they haven’t resigned or retired by the time this trial is over. And there may be others, so be prepared to make some phone calls.”

  Crawley looks at Crenshaw and Fogerty. “As far as the FDA and the Department of Health and Human Services is concerned, it will obviously be the government – that is, the taxpayers – that cough up most of the money for the victims anyway. So? In or out? Fogerty and the FDA?”

  “I think the FDA screwed up pretty badly in this case. We’re in.”

  “Good. Crenshaw and HHS?”

  “I see no other choice. Yes. Settle.”

  “Gentlemen, let's hope this works, or at two p.m. we'll all be making even bigger fools of ourselves.”

  Crawley picks up a phone on the conference table. “Find Mr. Baker for me in the next five minutes, whatever you have to do.”