Authors: R. J. Blacks
“Overruled. Please answer the
question Dr. Benson.”
“There were these reports.”
“Reports? What kind of
reports?”
“Reports to the EPA.”
“And what were your
concerns?”
Benson looks down, shakes his
head side to side, doesn’t answer. Berkeley asks him again.
“Dr. Benson, we’re all waiting
for you.”
Benson gazes at Berkeley,
then announces: “I think I need a lawyer.”
A buzz envelops the room as
everyone whispers to their neighbor.
“Order in the court,” the
judge says, and the room quiets down.
Berkeley approaches Benson.
“Is your reluctance to
testify based on the possibility of self-incrimination?”
“Objection,” Fullbright
shouts. “There’s no evidence Dr. Benson broke any laws.”
“Sustained,” the judge says.
Berkeley faces the judge.
“Your Honor, it is my intention to arrive at the truth, not to incriminate the
witness. Therefore, to avoid the appearance I may be seeking self-incrimination,
may I petition the court to grant him immunity from prosecution.”
“Let the record show immunity
has been granted to the witness,” the judge says. “Please answer the question
Dr. Benson.”
Berkeley approaches Benson. “I
repeat: What were your concerns about the reports to the EPA?”
“He told me to make them look
good.”
“In what way?”
“Leave out the bad stuff.”
“Falsify the reports?”
Berkeley asks.
Benson stares at the back
wall, but doesn’t say a word.
The judge interjects: “We’re
all waiting, Dr. Benson.”
“I told him I didn’t want to
go to jail.”
“And his response?” Berkeley asks.
“He told me not to worry. Said
he would use the entire legal weight of GWI to fend off anyone that challenged
us. So I asked him if the CEO agreed with this. He told me he would handle
Broadhampton if I delivered the goods. He then added that he was up for the CEO
position after Broadhampton retired and would remember what I did for the
company. But if I didn’t meet the August first date, it was over for me.”
The bailiff approaches the
bench cutting off Berkeley. He hands the judge a note. The judge opens the
note, reads it silently, and then, looks up.
“Mr. Fullbright, please
approach the bench.”
The judge hands him the note
and he studies it for a few minutes. Fullbright looks up and addresses the
judge.
“Your Honor, counsel for the
defense requests a twenty minute recess.”
“State your reason for the
record.”
“Eldridge Broadhampton has
advised me he has critical information that would interest the court.”
“Twenty minute recess
granted,” the judge says.
Everyone leaves the room and
Berkeley and I have coffee in the break room.
“Something’s going on,” he
says. “I think they’re rethinking their strategy.”
“Is that good?”
“We’ll soon see.”
Twenty minutes later, we file
back into the courtroom and noticeably absent is Ellis Grimes. Sitting in his
place at the defense table is Eldridge Broadhampton. Fullbright stands up and
requests permission to approach the bench.
“You may,” the judge says,
and then he and Fullbright chat in a low voice for a few minutes. Fullbright
returns to his seat and the judge addresses the court.
“Let the record show that
counsel for the defense has requested a private audience with me and the
plaintiff’s attorney. Counselors, please follow me.”
Berkeley winks at me, and
then he and Fullbright follow the judge out a door that leads to the judge’s
chambers. The courtroom comes alive with background chatter.
Ten minutes later, the three
of them return, and Berkeley takes his seat next to me.
“Grimes has been fired,” he
says in a whisper.
“You’re kidding,” I say.
“Shhh. I’ll tell you about it
later.”
The judge bangs his gavel on
the bench repeatedly.
“Silence in the courtroom.”
The room quiets and the judge
continues.
“In lieu of the previous
testimony, and these new developments, the counsel for the defense has advised
me it would be pointless to continue this session.”
The courtroom goes into a
spasm as everyone turns to their neighbor and starts talking out loud. The
judge again bangs his gavel on the bench with increased vigor.
“Order in the court. Order in
the court.”
The courtroom quiets down.
“The plaintiffs had
originally requested a settlement of eight million dollars, however, I find
that inappropriate for this case. Let the record show I have proposed an
alternative settlement and both parties have agreed to the amount. Compensatory
damages are hereby set at sixteen million dollars and punitive damages at fifty
million dollars, paid to George and Victoria Stewart for the death of their son
Kevin.”
For a good ten seconds no one
reacts, as the meaning of the judge’s words sink in. Then, everyone starts
talking at once and a roar of voices envelops the room.
Once again the judge bangs
his gavel on the bench repeatedly.
“Order in the court. Order in
the court.”
A few minutes later, the
courtroom quiets down.
“I would personally like to
thank the jury for their patience and to compliment both attorneys for their
professional demeanor. Court is now adjourned.”
The judge exits to his
chambers and people begin filing out the room. Berkeley and I stay in our seats
as the room empties.
“So what happened to Grimes?”
I ask.
“Broadhampton demanded his
resignation, and when he wouldn’t give it, was fired on the spot. Apparently, Benson
told them everything, how Grimes had tampered with his data and filed false
reports with the EPA. He’s got a nasty legal battle ahead and could be looking
at significant jail time. The company has pledged to cooperate with the
authorities so they don’t get dragged under with him. I can’t say I blame
them.”
“And to think it all could
have been avoided.”
Berkeley shrugs and then we
exit the courtroom. We meet up with the Stewarts who are valiantly warding off
the badgering of reporters and their camera crews. Berkeley steps into the fray,
redirecting questions to himself, and using his well-polished tact of saying a
lot of words, but telling them as little as possible. And amazingly, even
though I’m standing right next to him, no one asks me a thing. They probably
think I’m just his secretary or a no name technical advisor with no opinion
worth writing down. How does a reporter capsulize ten years of education and
six months of research in a thirty second news spot? Does anyone care? In
today’s fast moving world, the fifteen minutes of fame goes to the money winners,
the plaintiffs and their attorney.
One by one, the reporters
drift away, and then, Berkeley invites us to a victory dinner. I don’t think
reality has quite sunk in yet because the Stewarts seem to take their triumph
rather casually. But in a few weeks, when the checks arrive, they will become
patently aware of their newfound wealth and realize this was the real thing.
It’s a bittersweet moment for
me. I never did this for money, so I didn’t expect to get any. The $30,000 I
get for three days of involvement is well appreciated and will come in handy to
pay some bills. But it’s not a life changing event. Berkeley and the Stewarts
have achieved their goal so they can put this behind them and go on with their
lives. But I’m still working on mine and who knows when that will come to
fruition. If there’s a silver lining in all this, it’s that I’ve proven my
point, and I suppose that will be my just reward for believing in myself and
persevering to the end.
As we saunter towards the
front door of the courthouse, I see Dean Haas lingering in the hallway,
straight ahead. Even though I’m no longer under her supervision, whenever I’m
around her, I still get butterflies in my stomach. I try to avoid walking past
her, but there is nowhere else to go, so I just smile politely as I get close.
She calls me aside with a wave of her hand, so I approach gingerly, expecting
the worst.
“I’d like to have a word with
you if you don’t mind,” she says.
I wonder; what is she going
to chide me on now? I look at Berkeley, and then respond respectfully, hoping
she restrains herself.
“Sure, what’s it about,” I
ask.
“You’ll see.”
Berkeley tells the Stewarts
to wait in the lobby, and then, follows me as Dean Haas leads us to a
conference room. Inside, Eldridge Broadhampton, Clarence Fullbright, and Dr.
Benson are sitting at a table. Dean Haas takes a seat next to Broadhampton.
Berkeley and I find two seats on the opposite side of the table. Fullbright speaks
first, addresses Berkeley.
“You did quite well today,”
he says.
“Thanks, you were pretty good
yourself.”
Broadhampton stands up, walks
to the head of the table, and directs his attention towards me.
“Indigo, before we get
started, I would like to apologize for the harsh treatment you received from my
special council Ellis Grimes. It was inexcusable and I was totally unaware of
the situation. I realize now this was not a personal attack on the company,
only honest research from someone who was interested in expanding the science.”
“Thank you Mr. Broadhampton,”
I say.
“But the real reason we brought
you here is to ask you if you would consider an offer. I am committed to fixing
the problem GWI created and I want you to join us.”
“Join you?”
“I think you and Dr. Benson
have more insight into the solution than anyone else on the planet and would make
a great team. I want you to know I am one-hundred percent committed to
supporting you.”
“I’m overwhelmed,” I respond.
Broadhampton hands me a
folded piece of paper.
“If you decide to join us,
this is what I’m prepared to offer.”
I open the paper and written
inside is a six-figure salary. I stare at it not knowing how to respond.
“You don’t have to decide
now. Take a couple of days to think it over. You’d be working out of our
Philadelphia lab so you’d be back with your friends and colleagues.”
“Thank you Mr. Broadhampton.
I’ll let you know.”
“One more thing. Dean Haas,
did you want to tell her now?”
“I think now would be
appropriate,” she says, and then stands up.
“Mr. Broadhampton, Dr.
Benson, and I, were all impressed by the level of research you demonstrated
during the trial. Therefore, I am granting you full rights back at the
university and if you write up a paper on what you did, I will accept it as
your official dissertation and grant you a PhD in Microbiology.”
I’m completely choked up but
manage to pull myself together and eke out a lame response.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything,” she
says brusquely. “Send me that paper as soon as possible so we can conclude this
and move on.”
She gathers her things and
then approaches the door along with Broadhampton and Benson. They exit, but she
stops, turns, and looks at me.
“One more thing...”
“Yes.”
“I see you’ve taken my
advice.”
I gaze at her with a blank
look.
“The hair,” she says, and
then abruptly leaves the room.
Berkeley and I are the only
ones left and we stare at each other in surprise.
“Congratulations,” Berkeley
says. “Come on, let’s go celebrate.”
We exit the room and meet up
with the Stewarts in the lobby, and then, he takes us to a fine restaurant on
the waterfront. We celebrate our victory with a relaxing dinner of lobster and
Champagne finishing off with a Limoncello.
After a few more drinks, the
Stewarts announce their desire to head to the airport. It’s been a tiring
ordeal for them, and they just want to get home. They get up, wish us a goodbye,
and exit the restaurant. I watch them through the window as they hail a cab
from the many parked along the waterfront, and then, get in. As the taxi pulls out,
and disappears into traffic, I am hit with the realization it’s over. I will
probably never see them again.
Berkeley pays the bill and we
exit the restaurant. We drift around the waterfront for a few hours enjoying
the warm night air and taking in the exhibits. He tells me of his intention to
hang around Baltimore for a few days to look up old friends and invites me to
join him. But I’m too burned out so I politely decline and head back to the
hotel alone.
My first order of business is
to book a flight back home. I manage to get one for the following afternoon, at
1:30 PM, nonstop, to Daytona International. Next, I send a text message to Fargo,
Will, Doug, and Brad, to bring them up to date on the outcome. They’re all
surprised it ended so soon and congratulate me on my victory. Fargo suggests we
throw a big party at the restaurant and invite everyone we know. It sounds
wonderful and I can’t wait to begin planning it. I gather my clothes together,
fold them carefully, and then, place them in my luggage, ready for the flight
home.