The Trial

by Larry D. Thompson

  Luke saw an honorable discharge certificate that appeared to be from when Judge Nimitz was in his early forties. “Why did you get out of the navy, Judge?”

  “After Vietnam there wasn’t any prospect of another real fight. They eventually made me a squadron commander, mainly a desk job. After twenty I’d had enough. This wall here is my UT wall. Went to law school there after the navy. Best law school in the country as far as I’m concerned.”

  “You won’t hear me disagree with that. Judging from your diploma, I was just a few years behind you. Of course, I hadn’t put in twenty years serving my country.”

  “Have a seat, Luke. Tell me about yourself.”

  Luke spent the next fifteen minutes outlining his career, some of his verdicts, his ulcer, and his decision to move back to San Marcos. After giving the judge his résumé and business card, Luke thanked him for his time and left the courthouse.

  Over the next several days Luke introduced himself to most of the lawyers in the area. Next, he went to San Marcos High School and found his old English teacher. She kept up with most of the graduates and was eager to give him information about the members of his class and their whereabouts. Armed with a new list of potential clients, Luke started the same drill.

  One day he was leaving the Comal Cleaners, which was owned by a classmate, when he heard a voice. “Luke, Luke Vaughan, is that you?”

  He turned to see an attractive brunette, probably in her late thirties, smiling at him. Luke noted that her gray business suit hid what appeared to be an athletic body. Her blue dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, revealing just a hint of cleavage. With her high heels, she was almost as tall as Luke. She removed her sunglasses, revealing sparkling green eyes as she continued. “It is you, Luke. You don’t remember me, do you?”

  A little chagrined that he didn’t remember such a good-looking woman, he could only say, “I’m sorry, I don’t. Maybe you can jog my memory.” He smiled.

  “I’m Sue Ellen Taggert. I was in the ninth grade when you were a senior. I was always trying to get your attention then, but you were more interested in the cheerleaders. I heard you were a big-time trial lawyer in Houston. What’re you doing coming out of Jim’s cleaners?”

  “I don’t know about being a big-time lawyer there. Anyway, I’m just reacquainting myself with everyone. I live over on Live Oak Street. Bought the old Cramer place. My daughter and I live upstairs, and my office is on the first floor. What about you?”

  “I’m a lawyer, too. Graduated from St. Mary’s in San Antonio and took a job with the Hays County district attorney. I’m the chief felony prosecutor. I live in one of those old houses not far from you, and my only roommate is my ten-year-old son,” she said with just the hint of a twinkle in her eye. “So we need to get together. Got to run. Judge Nimitz is calling his criminal docket at one. Oh, here’s my card. I’ll write my home number on the back.”

  11

  Ryan Sinclair had a house that very few employees of CDER could afford, in an upscale neighborhood fifteen minutes from their office. He invited the other members of his team there for a Saturday night barbecue. While they were expected to relax and unwind, the real reason for the get-together was to have a place and time where they could discuss their opinions about Exxacia without interference.

  Mary Hawkins, Henry Schmidt, and Robert Walls, along with their spouses, arrived around seven. Mary was an infectious disease specialist, Henry was a pharmacologist, and Robert was a statistician. It was late fall, but Ryan cut the chill on the patio with a couple of heat lamps. His wife, Sara, had set appetizers on the patio table. Ryan escorted each couple on arrival through the house to the kitchen, where he offered drinks. The choices were Bud Light or red wine.

  Football dominated the men’s conversation. All of them had become Baltimore fans, and after a dismal start the Ravens were now making a playoff run; their young quarterback was the talk of the league. Then there was college ball. Texas, Florida, LSU, and USC were all in the hunt for the national championship. Ryan kidded that his alma mater, Harvard, should be in the BCS title game. After all, they, too, were undefeated. Finally Sara invited all of the women inside, where they made dinner preparations and found something more interesting than football to talk about. After two rounds of drinks, Ryan fired up the grill and took steak orders. In thirty minutes they were seated inside, where the guests congratulated Ryan and Sara on a fantastic barbecue dinner. After dinner, Sara cleared the table and served coffee. Ryan took over the discussion.

  “If you spouses don’t mind, we need to talk a little business.”

  “Thanks a lot, Ryan,” Henry said, grinning. “You fill us full of barbecue and beer and expect us to sound coherent. Just kidding. We knew this was coming.”

  “Ryan’s been talking about this Exxacia for months,” Sara responded. “I feel like I’m a part of the team.”

  “You are, dear,” Ryan said. “Only you don’t get a vote. Mary, you go first.”

  “Tonsillitis is out as far as I’m concerned, but I may get overruled. And I’m old-fashioned enough that if it was my call, I’d eliminate sinusitis, too. Ninety percent of sinus problems will resolve themselves without medication. For the other ten percent we’ve got a bunch of antibiotics out there that have fifteen or twenty years of history. There aren’t any more surprises with those drugs.”

  “Still, you know the problem, Mary,” Henry replied. “We can’t block a new drug application just because there are other drugs that do the same thing. I agree with you on the tonsillitis, though.”

  “Robert?” Ryan asked. “Your turn.”

  “I’ve still got safety issues. On the basis of less than a thousand patients in the Phase I, II, and III trials, I wouldn’t feel comfortable putting this drug out there. Why take a drug for a sinus problem if you may lose your liver or have a heart attack? Sure, the chance may be only one in fifty thousand or a hundred thousand. Personally, I’d rather just run through a couple of boxes of Kleenex.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Ryan added. “My friend in London sent me the European after-market data. Besides liver and cardiac problems, some vision problems are on the radar screen, along with vasculitis. That last one doesn’t make much sense and may be a coincidence, but it’s out there. Let’s take a vote. Thumbs up or thumbs down.”

  They all looked at Mary, who slowly turned her thumb down. She was followed by Henry and Robert, who looked at each other for confirmation they were doing the right thing and also turned thumbs down. Then all three turned to Ryan, who smiled and turned his thumb down as well.

  “When are you going to tell Boatwright?” Emma asked.

  “Monday morning. No use waiting. The advisory committee meeting is in four weeks, and we might as well start getting ready for it.”

  “Boatwright’s going to be pissed, Ryan,” Henry cautioned. “For some reason he’s personally interested in this one.”

  “Yeah, I know. He can override me if he wants, but I don’t think he has the stones to do it.”

  “What if he recommends a big clinical trial to the advisory committee? You go along with that?”

  “Nope, not on this drug. As far as I’m concerned, the more patients taking Exxacia, the more adverse events. Only problem is that it may not be my call.”

  12

  Ryan stopped by Dr. Boatwright’s assistant’s desk on the way to his office on Monday. “Lucille, can I see Dr. Boatwright sometime today for, say, fifteen minutes?”

  Lucille looked up from her computer. “Dr. Sinclair, you know how busy Dr. Boatwright is, don’t you? It’s probably out of the question. I’ll do my best to get you in to see him sometime this week.”

  “Whatever you say, Lucille. I would think that Roger would like to see me sooner rather than later.”

  Exasperation filled Lucille’s face. “Dr. Sinclair, you know that Dr. Boatwright does not permit first names. I’ll try to tell him you dropped by. Have a good day.”

  Lucille turned to read something
important on her computer. Ryan saluted her and walked to his office. At four o’clock that afternoon Lucille called. “Dr. Boatwright will see you at four forty-five. You will have fifteen minutes. Be prompt.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said as this time he saluted the phone.

  Ryan appeared at Lucille’s desk at four fifty. It was intentional. Lucille looked at him in disgust. “You’re late.”

  “Right you are, Lucille. I’ll talk fast.”

  Lucille escorted Ryan into the office and retreated, closing the door behind her. Boatwright was again poring over some document. This time Ryan took one of the two chairs across from his desk, crossed one leg over the other, and waited for him to look up. Finally he did. “Dr. Sinclair, punctuality is a virtue. You’re late.”

  “I agree, Dr. Boatwright, but I knew you would be reading that document and figured I could use an extra five minutes.”

  “What? How did you know what I was reading? Oh, never mind. What is it?”

  “I thought you might like to know the final verdict on Exxacia, Dr. Boatwright.”

  “Of course, of course. I’m sure that you found it to be both efficacious and safe for all concerned, right, Dr. Sinclair?”

  Ryan unfolded his legs and leaned forward as he spoke in almost a whisper. “Afraid not, Dr. Boatwright. My team has voted unanimously to send a nonapproval letter to Ceventa.”

  “You must be kidding,” Boatwright erupted. “It’s a joke, right? Your little joke. Dr. Kingsbury has assured me that the drug is a miracle in the making.”

  “Sorry, but my team disagrees. You’ll be getting my formal report and recommendation tomorrow. There are too many red flags popping up for us to approve it, liver toxicity, vision, one heart attack, all from a small population.”

  “But, but, but, the advisory committee hasn’t even met. They won’t for four weeks.”

  “Look, Dr. Boatwright, I only do my job. So do my team members. What you do, or what our distinguished advisory committee members do, both are out of my control.”

  Boatwright rose and paced behind his desk for at least a minute, head down, deep in thought. “That’ll be all, Dr. Sinclair.”

  As soon as Ryan left, Boatwright locked the door behind him and placed a call to a private cell number. “Dr. Kingsbury, Roger Boatwright here.”

  “Roger, my friend, delighted to hear from you. Did you forget that we’re on a first-name basis? How’s my NDA coming? About time for approval, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what I’m calling about, Dr.… I mean Alfred. Ryan Sinclair was just in here. He’s not approving the drug.”

  “Nonsense. You told him that you wanted it approved, didn’t you? I thought that after we left Jamaica it was a done deal.”

  “Yes, sir, I did tell him. He thinks there are some safety issues with Exxacia, particularly dealing with hepatitis.”

  Boatwright, of course, couldn’t see Kingsbury’s face as it turned red and he fought to control his temper.

  “Look, Roger, you’re the guy in charge at CDER. Young Sinclair is becoming a real pain in the ass. You can overrule a narrow-minded pencil pusher like him, can’t you now?”

  Boatwright fumbled for an answer. “I have the authority, but I’m sorry to say that Sinclair is quite well thought of in the agency. If I overrule him, it’s almost certain to get back to the commissioner. He’s likely to send someone down from his staff to nose around and find out the reason for the disagreement. It would be a lot worse for you if I give you an approval letter and then have to withdraw it.” Boatwright’s voice dropped almost to a whisper as he finished.

  “Dr. Boatwright, it’s highly important to me, personally, to have Exxacia marketed in the United States.” Dr. Kingsbury’s voice rose as he continued. “We’ll make sure it’s a huge success, but I can’t give it to my marketing boys until you give us the green light. It still has to go to the advisory committee, doesn’t it?”

  “Right, Dr. Kingsbury. That’s in four weeks.”

  There was silence on the other end as Kingsbury puffed a cigarette and thought. Boatwright was about to ask if there was anything else when Kingsbury said, “This advisory committee has eleven members, correct? I suggest that you plan to attend their meeting and persuade them that my drug is safe and efficacious.”

  13

  One Sunday afternoon Luke and Cocoa were out in the neighborhood when they passed Spring Park, which was on one of their regular routes. Only five acres, it usually held a few children playing soccer or football and some mothers watching toddlers roaming at one end. On this afternoon there were probably a dozen dogs and owners, too. Seated in a ragged circle, the owners chatted with each other. Some of the dogs were content to lie beside them. Other dogs were engaged in friendly contests. An older man had a Frisbee and tossed it as far as he could. His black Labrador took off, barking happily, as he followed the Frisbee. When it was four feet from the ground, the Lab leaped to catch it, did a small parade lap, and returned to his owner where he dropped the Frisbee and awaited the next toss. Luke smiled at the gathering. Cocoa was excited and strained at her leash to join the others. Then Luke spotted Sue Ellen Taggert.

  Luke and Cocoa walked to the group. “Hey, Sue Ellen, can we join you?”

  Sue Ellen broke off a conversation with another woman and pushed to her feet. She was wearing shorts and a Texas Longhorns T-shirt. Wow, Luke thought, I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to her in high school.

  “Welcome, Luke. Everybody, this is our new neighbor, Luke Vaughan. He grew up here and disappeared into the vast wasteland of Houston before coming to his senses. He bought the old Cramer place. And this is his dog…?”

  “Cocoa. Cocoa’s about four months. I’m teaching her to be a fierce attack dog.” Luke grinned.

  Sue Ellen introduced all of her friends and their dogs. “And this is my son, Josh, and Jackie, my border collie.”

  When the rest of the group returned to their conversations, Sue Ellen explained that the ad hoc club assembled most Sunday afternoons. Sometimes there were twenty people in attendance, sometimes only half a dozen. Dogs were their common interest. The only rule was that any dog that couldn’t get along with the other dogs would not be permitted to return.

  Sue Ellen motioned for Luke to sit beside her as Josh wandered off to toss a football with some friends. Luke looked around at the group. All of them seemed happy, contented, and relaxed. Why didn’t I opt for this lifestyle twenty years ago? he thought.

  The sun began to cast shadows on the park as people and dogs started to drift away. Luke was content to stay there until midnight. Stress was a distant memory, and Sue Ellen was a delightful conversationalist. Luke particularly enjoyed it when she would punctuate her comments by touching his arm and occasionally his knee.

  “Probably time to go,” Sue Ellen finally said. “Luke, why don’t you and Cocoa walk with us back to my house? It’s only a couple of blocks out of the way. I’ve got beer in the fridge.”

  “I’m for it. Lead the way,” Luke replied as he got to his feet and extended a hand for Sue Ellen. Sue Ellen hollered at Josh, who caught one more pass from his friend and joined them.

  Josh was a cute ten-year-old, well-mannered and big for his age. Luke took an instant liking to him. “Josh, you play any sports?”

  “Yes, sir. Most all of them, depending on the season. Football, baseball, basketball, soccer. I like football the best.”

  “Who knows, maybe I’m raising a Longhorn quarterback,” Sue Ellen said, the smile of a proud parent on her face.

  They turned the corner, and Sue Ellen motioned to the second house on the left. “That’s ours.”

  It was a smaller version of Luke’s house, well maintained, painted light blue with dark blue trim.

  “Have a seat on the porch. I’ll bring those beers. Josh, you can join us or go watch television.” Josh opted for the TV.

  Luke took a seat and Cocoa was content to lie beside him and quickly dozed off into doggie slumber. Sue Ellen returned
with two beers, then went back in the house and reappeared carrying a tray of assorted cheeses and crackers. They rocked, sipped their beers, and continued their small talk about old mutual acquaintances and caught up on life events.

  Sue Ellen had graduated from Texas and then tended bar on Sixth Street in Austin for two years until she decided what next to do with her life. She settled on law school, but her grades were not quite good enough for UT Law. St. Mary’s was a good second choice, and she moved to San Antonio. In her third year she dated a fellow student she expected to marry, but he was shocked when she announced she was pregnant and thereafter would have nothing more to do with her. She found herself in early labor during the bar exam and assumed that she had probably failed. Two days later Josh was born, and three months later she learned she was a lawyer. She admitted to no serious romantic involvement since that time.

  After a second beer the sun was almost gone, and Luke said that he would be getting on back to his house. There was an awkward moment between the two friends as she extended her hand. Rather than taking it, Luke pulled her toward him and gave her a gentle good-night kiss. He promised to call her soon and waved as he got to the end of her sidewalk. In hindsight, Luke should have savored that moment, for stress would reenter his life by the end of the summer.

  14

  It was Friday night in San Marcos. Luke had reluctantly agreed with Samantha that since she was now in high school, she could go to the movies and to the mall with her friends on weekend nights, provided a parent drove and she was home by ten thirty. He was finishing up a real estate deal for a Hill Country developer when he heard a timid knock on the door. Before he could get up, Samantha hollered down the stairs, “I’ll get it, Father.”