The Associate

by Phillip Margolin

  Flynn shrugged. "Call the judge."

  Daniel barely heard what Briggs and Flynn said. All he could think about was the steps he'd taken when he reviewed the discovery. How could he have missed Kaidanov's letter? He had skim-read many of the documents, but he was specifically looking for privileged information. A letter to an attorney would have raised a red flag. It didn't seem possible that it could slip by, but it had. Daniel was devastated. No one was perfect, but to be responsible for an error of these proportions . . .

  As soon as Judge Norris was connected to the conference room, Flynn and Briggs took turns explaining the legal arguments supporting their position in the Kaidanov matter. The judge was too busy to deal with a matter of this complexity over the phone. He told the attorneys to stop questioning Schroeder until he ruled and he ordered Briggs and Flynn to submit briefs on their positions by the end of the week.

  As soon as Flynn and his minions cleared the conference room, Briggs waved Kaidanov's letter in Schroeder's face.

  "What is this, Kurt?"

  "I've got no idea, Arthur." The Geller executive looked as upset as his attorney. "I've never seen the damn thing in my life."

  "But you know this guy Kaidanov?"

  "I know who he is. He works in R and D. I don't know him personally."

  "And he's working with these monkeys?"

  "No. Not to my knowledge."

  "What does `not to my knowledge' mean? You're not holding out on me, are you? This letter could cost your company millions, if you're lucky, and it could sink Geller if you're not."

  Schroeder was sweating. "I swear, Arthur, I've never heard of a single study that we've conducted that came back with results like these. What kind of company do you think we run? If I got wind of a study of Insufort with those results, do you think I'd okay human trials?"

  "I want to speak to Kaidanov and Fournet immediately, this afternoon," Briggs said.

  "I'll phone my office and set it up."

  When Schroeder walked over to the credenza and punched in the number of his office, Briggs turned toward Daniel, who had tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Briggs held out his copy of the Kaidanov letter, which had sustained serious damage.

  "Explain this, Ames," he demanded in a soft tone that was more frightening than the screams he'd expected.

  "I . . . uh, Mr. Briggs . . . I've never seen it."

  "Never seen it," Briggs repeated. "Was Flynn lying when he said that you gave it to him?"

  Daniel glanced at Susan. She averted her eyes, but her body language revealed her anxiety. Daniel looked back at Briggs.

  "Well?" Briggs asked, his voice slightly louder.

  "He didn't mean that literally, Mr. Briggs. I was told to review five large boxes of documents that Geller produced in response to a demand for discovery." Daniel was the only one who saw Susan release her pent-up breath. "I was told to deliver the discovery first thing in the morning, eightA.M. I didn't see the boxes until eight the night before. There were roughly twenty thousand pages. I stayed at the office all evening. I even slept here. There were too many pages for me to review every one of them in that time."

  "And that's your excuse?"

  "It's not an excuse. Nobody could have gone through every page in those boxes in the time I had."

  "You're not a `nobody,' Ames. You're a Reed, Briggs associate. If we wanted nobodies we'd pay minimum wage and hire graduates of unaccredited, correspondence law schools."

  "Mr. Briggs. I'm sorry, but-"

  "My secretary will set up the meetings," Schroeder said as he hung up the phone. To Daniel's great relief, Schroeder's statement distracted Briggs.

  Schroeder reread Kaidanov's letter. When he was done he held it up. He looked grim.

  "I think this is a fraud. We never conducted a study with these results," he declared emphatically. "I'm certain of it."

  "You'd better be right," Briggs said. "If Judge Norris rules that this letter is admissible in court, and we can't prove it's a fake, you, and everyone else at Geller Pharmaceuticals, will be selling pencils on street corners."

  Briggs started to lead Newbauer and Schroeder out of the room. Daniel hung back, hoping to escape Briggs's notice, but the senior partner stopped at the door and cast a scathing look at him.

  "I'll talk with you, later," Briggs said.

  The door closed and Daniel was left alone in the conference room.

  Chapter Seven.

  Daniel spent the afternoon waiting for the ax to fall. Around two, he dialed Susan's extension to find out what was going on, but her secretary told him that she was at Geller Pharmaceuticals with Arthur Briggs. An hour later, when he realized that he'd never get any work done, Daniel went home to his one-bedroom walk-up on the third floor of an old brick apartment house in northwest Portland. His place was small and sparsely furnished with things Daniel had transported from his law-school apartment in Eugene. Its most attractive feature was its location near Northwest Twenty-first and Twenty-third streets with their restaurants, shops, and crowds. But today the apartment could have been in the heart of Paris and Daniel would not have noticed. Arthur Briggs was going to fire him. He was sure of it. Everything he had worked for was going to be destroyed because of a single sheet of paper.

  Something else troubled Daniel. He had been so worried about being fired that it was not until he was in bed, eyes closed, that the true importance of Dr. Sergey Kaidanov's letter dawned on him. Until he read the letter, Daniel had been convinced that there was no merit to the lawsuit Aaron Flynn had brought on behalf of Toby Moffitt, Patrick Cummings, and the other children allegedly affected by Insufort. What if he was wrong? What if Geller Pharmaceuticals knew that it was selling a product that could deform innocent babies? Daniel was part of a team representing Geller. If the company was knowingly responsible for the horror that had been visited upon Patrick Cummings and Daniel continued to defend Geller, he would be aiding and abetting a terrible enterprise.

  Daniel tossed and turned all night and was exhausted when his alarm went off. By the time he arrived at Reed, Briggs the next morning, he was certain that everyone in the firm knew about his blunder. Daniel managed to get from the elevator to his office without meeting anyone, but he was barely settled behind his desk when Joe Molinari walked in and his day started to go downhill.

  "What the fuck did you do?" Molinari asked in a hushed voice as soon as he shut the door.

  "What do you mean?" Daniel asked nervously.

  "The word is that Briggs has a hair up his ass the size of a redwood and you put it there."

  "Shit."

  "So it's true."

  Daniel felt utterly defeated.

  "What happened?"

  "I don't want to talk about it."

  "Look, compadre, I'm here for you."

  "I appreciate the support. I'd just rather be alone now."

  "Okay," Molinari said reluctantly. He stood up. "Just remember what I said. If there's something I can do, ask."

  Molinari left. Daniel felt exhausted and the day had just started. It suddenly dawned on him that he had never gotten around to discussing with Susan her role in the discovery fiasco. If Susan went to Briggs and told him that she was partly to blame, it might help, and from what Molinari said, he could use all the help he could get. Daniel walked down the hall to Susan's office. She was wearing a cream-colored blouse and a gray pantsuit and looked as fresh and untroubled as a woman who had slept for twenty-four hours.

  "Susan?"

  "Oh, hi," she answered with a smile.

  "Got a minute?"

  Daniel started toward a chair.

  "Actually, I don't." Daniel stopped in his tracks. "Arthur needs this yesterday."

  "We really have to talk."

  "Now is not a good time," she said firmly. Her smile was starting to look a little strained.

  "I was hoping that you'd tell Arthur that you were supposed to review the discovery and that I helped you out."

  Susan looked surprised, as if
the idea had never occurred to her.

  "Why would I do that?"

  "So he'd know how big the job was and that I didn't get started until the last minute," Daniel answered, trying to rein in his temper.

  "Even if I was supposed to review the discovery, you're the one who did," Susan answered defensively. "If I tell Arthur, it won't help. All that will accomplish is getting me in trouble, too."

  "If Briggs knew that we were both to blame it would take some of the pressure off of me."

  Susan looked nervous. " Ididn't go through the discovery. You're the one who missed that letter."

  "You'd have missed it, too. Briggs would have missed it."

  "You're right," Susan agreed quickly. "Look, you'll be okay. Arthur gets angry easily, but he'll be distracted by this mess and forget you delivered the letter."

  "Fat chance."

  "Or he'll see that you're right. That the letter was a needle in a haystack that no one could have found unless they were incredibly lucky. You don't have to worry."

  "You're the one who doesn't have to worry," Daniel said with a trace of bitterness. "He'd never fire you."

  Susan looked very uncomfortable. "I really do have to finish this assignment. It's research on the admissibility of Kaidanov's letter. Can we talk about this later?"

  "When, after I'm unemployed?" Daniel shot back.

  "I mean it, Daniel. I'll buzz you as soon as I get some free time."

  _ _ _

  Daniel could not concentrate on the pleading he was drafting because his thoughts kept drifting to the Insufort case. He could not believe that Geller Pharmaceuticals would intentionally sell a product that produced the horrible results he'd seen in Aaron Flynn's office. He had met many of the Geller executives. They weren't monsters. The results that Sergey Kaidanov wrote about had to be an anomaly.

  Daniel set aside the pleading and opened a large folder that held all of the Insufort studies. He started with the earliest and worked his way through them looking for anything that would help. By the time he had finished his review it was almost one. Daniel suddenly remembered Susan's promise to call him when she was through with her work. He dialed Susan's extension and her secretary told him that she had left for the day. Daniel wasn't surprised. Deep down he knew that Susan was not going to help him. If he wanted to stay at Reed, Briggs, he was going to have to save himself, but how?

  Suddenly he laughed. The answer was obvious. Sergey Kaidanov wrote the report that was about to torpedo Geller's defense. Kaidanov's study had to be flawed. If he could find out why Kaidanov had erred he would save the litigation and, maybe, his job.

  Daniel dialed Geller Pharmaceuticals and was connected to the receptionist in research and development.

  "Dr. Kaidanov isn't in," she told him.

  "When will he be in?"

  "I couldn't say."

  "I'm an attorney at Reed, Briggs, Stephens, Stottlemeyer and Compton, the law firm that represents Geller Pharmaceuticals, and I need to speak with Dr. Kaidanov about a matter of importance to a suit that was brought against your company."

  "I'm supposed to refer all inquiries about Dr. Kaidanov to Dr. Schroeder. May I transfer you to his office?"

  "I don't want to bother Dr. Schroeder. I know how busy he is. I'd rather just speak to Dr. Kaidanov myself."

  "Well, you can't. He's not in and he hasn't been in for more than a week."

  "Is he on vacation?"

  "I don't have that information. You'll have to talk to Dr. Schroeder. Do you want me to connect you?"

  "Uh, no. That's okay. Thanks."

  Daniel dialed information and discovered that Sergey Kaidanov had an unlisted phone number. He thought for a moment then phoned personnel at Geller Pharmaceuticals.

  "I need an address and phone number for Dr. Sergey Kaidanov," he said to the clerk who answered. "He works in research and development."

  "I can't give out that information over the phone."

  Daniel was desperate. He had to get to Kaidanov.

  "Listen," he said forcefully, "this is George Fournet in legal. We just received a subpoena for Kaidanov. He's out of the office and I've got to get in touch with him ASAP. If he doesn't show up for his deposition we're going to be held in contempt by the judge. I have a messenger waiting to hand-deliver the subpoena, but he's all dressed up with no place to go."

  "I'm not sure . . ."

  "What's your name?"

  "Bea Twiley."

  "Did you get mine, Ms. Twiley; George Fournet? I am the head of the legal department and I don't waste my time on frivolous calls. Do you want to go to court and explain to United States District Court Judge Ivan Norris why you're there instead of Dr. Kaidanov?"

  Chapter Eight.

  It was a little after three when Daniel found Sergey Kaidanov's drab, gray bungalow in a run-down neighborhood on the east side of the Willamette. The paint was peeling and the front lawn had not been mowed in a while. It was not the type of home in which Daniel expected to find a research scientist who worked for a prosperous pharmaceutical company.

  The weather had turned nasty and there was no one on the street. Daniel parked down the block and watched the house. The shades in the front windows were drawn and the old newspapers lying on the lawn told Daniel that no one was home. He hunched his shoulders to ward off the wind and shivered as he walked up the path to Kaidanov's front door. After ringing the bell three times, he gave up. Daniel raised the metal flap of the mail slot and peeked inside the house. Mail was scattered across the floor.

  Daniel followed a slate path that ran along the side of the bungalow to the back of the house. A low chain-link fence ran around the edge of a small, unkempt yard. Daniel opened the gate and went to the back door. The shades on the kitchen window were drawn. He knocked a few times, then tried the knob. The door opened. Daniel was about to call out Kaidanov's name when he saw the chaos in the kitchen. Cabinets and drawers were open and their contents littered the floor. Daniel took a slow survey of the room. There was a layer of dust on the counters. The sink was full of dirty dishes. Daniel stepped gingerly over broken glass and shattered plates and opened the refrigerator. He was hit by the sour smell of decay. Greenish-gray mold covered a piece of cheese. Daniel uncapped a bottle of spoiled milk and wrinkled his nose.

  A small living room opened off of the kitchen. Except for an expensive stereo that had been ripped out of its cabinet, most of the other furnishings looked secondhand. CDs were strewn around the floor. Daniel saw a lot of classical music and some jazz.

  A bookshelf took up one wall, but the books it used to hold had been thrown around the room. Many of the books were about scientific subjects like chemistry and microbiology. Daniel spotted a few popular novels and several books on gambling and mathematics.

  The contents of a liquor cabinet were lying among the books and CDs on the hardwood floor. Most of the bottles contained Scotch and many of them were empty. On top of the liquor cabinet was more dust and a framed photograph of a slightly overweight man in his early forties dressed in sports clothes. Standing next to him was an attractive woman in a revealing sundress. They were smiling at the camera. The picture looked like it had been taken in front of a Las Vegas casino.

  Daniel turned slowly, taking in the room again. This couldn't be a coincidence. Kaidanov's disappearance, the search of his home, and the primate study had to be connected.

  A short hall led to the bedroom. Daniel edged into it, half expecting to find a mutilated corpse. Blankets and sheets were heaped on the floor, the mattress of a queen-size bed had been dislodged, drawers in a chest had been pulled out, and shirts, underwear, and socks had been strewn around the room. The doors to a clothes closet were open and it had obviously been searched.

  Across the hall was a small office. More books had been pulled out of a bookshelf, but Daniel's attention was drawn to a monitor on Kaidanov's desktop. It looked odd sitting where it was supposed to be when everything else in the room had been tossed about. Daniel sat down and turne
d on the computer. As soon as it booted up, he tried to gain entry, but he needed a password. If Kaidanov had information about his study in the house it would be on his computer, but how could he access it?

  Daniel turned off the computer and pulled the CPU tower out from under Kaidanov's desk. Using the screwdriver on his Swiss army knife, Daniel removed the sheet-metal cover of the computer's case, popped the cover, and pulled it off. He placed the computer on its side so he could see the motherboard, which held all of its electronics. Next to the motherboard was the hard-drive bay, a rack that held the hard drive in the computer. The hard drive was connected to the motherboard by a ribbon cable and a power cable. Daniel unplugged the cables from their connectors and unscrewed two more screws on the bay. He then flipped the CPU tower upright and took out two more screws on the other side. When all the screws were out Daniel gently slid the hard drive out of its bay. It consisted of a green circuit board encased in heavy black metal and was about the size of a paperback book. Daniel wrapped it in his handkerchief and placed it in his jacket pocket.

  Daniel put the CPU tower back together and was sliding it under the desk when he froze at the distinctive sound of a bottle rolling across a wood floor. Daniel remembered that the liquor bottles were in the living room, which meant that he was trapped, because he would have to go through the living room to get out the front or back doors.

  A shadow appeared on the corridor wall. Daniel could make out the bill of a baseball cap, but the shadow was too indistinct to tell him much more. He edged the door almost shut. The shadow flowed toward him along the wall. Daniel held his breath. If the intruder went into the bedroom he-Daniel-might be able to slip down the hall. If he went into the office first . . . Daniel opened the large blade on his knife.

  Through the narrow gap in the door Daniel saw a figure in jeans and a leather jacket stop between the two rooms, facing away from him. The intruder hesitated, then the office door slammed into Daniel with enough force to stun him. Before he could recover, his wrist was bent back and his feet were kicked out from under him. The knife flew from his grasp.

  Daniel crashed to the floor and lashed out with a punch that brought a gasp from his attacker. The grip on his arm loosened and he broke it, then struggled to his knees. A knee smashed into his face. Daniel grabbed his attacker's leg, surged to his feet, and twisted. His assailant went down with Daniel on top, his head pressed against the leather jacket. A blow glanced off Daniel's ear. He worked himself into a position to punch back, then reared up. As soon as he saw his attacker's face he checked his punch and gaped in astonishment.