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Kramer leaned into the jury box and looked into the faces of the jury members.
“To most people that might sound cynical or vengeful or mercenary. But it’s not entirely the fault of the litigants.”
Kramer pushed off from the railing and moved out into the center of the room, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts before turning to face the jury again.
“I understand grief. My father and my son both died in a hospital. My baby boy died only three days after he was born. He was a gift, a blessing that was ripped away from my wife and me. My father was my best friend, my mentor, captain of my cheering section. I miss them both every day.”
Kramer’s scowl softened, and he began to pace slowly, hypnotically, in front of the jury box.
“I’m fairly sure every one of you has suffered the loss of a loved one, and you know it’s perfectly natural to want to blame someone,” Kramer said.
“You suffer, you get mad, and, eventually, you turn anger into good by remembering the good times you shared with this person.
“You make peace with the fact that love doesn’t conquer all, or that life can be unfair, or that God works in mysterious ways. And somehow you move on. You move on.
“You want to know why the plaintiffs aren’t doing that?” Kramer asked. He put his hands back on the railing, giving the jury the full force of his attention.
“Because my opponent has led them down a path that is unworthy of them. Because of a law firm called Friedman, Bannion and O’Mara. Because of this woman, Maureen O’Mara.” He pointed his finger directly at his opponent. “Because of her, these unfortunate people have come to see their personal tragedies as a financial opportunity. You’ve all heard the movie line—‘show me the money.’ That’s what this travesty of justice is really about. That’s why those people raised their hands.”
Chapter 22
CINDY ACTUALLY CLAPPED HER HAND over her mouth, stunned at Kramer’s searing personal attack on O’Mara and her firm. Damn—and this was just the trial’s first day.
O’Mara shot up from her seat.
“Objection,” O’Mara snapped. “Your Honor, Counsel’s statement is inflammatory and prejudicial and personally insulting. I move that it be stricken from the record.”
“Sustained. Ms. Campbell,” the judge said to the court reporter, “please strike Mr. Kramer’s last remark. Mr. Kramer, what’s good for the goose . . .”
“Your Honor?”
“Tone down the rhetoric and proceed, Mr. Kramer. You could be fined, or worse.”
Kramer nodded—“Yes, Your Honor”—and turned back to the jury with a strained smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen, during this trial you will hear abundant proof that San Francisco Municipal is a highly respected and responsible institution,” Kramer continued. “That it has above-industry-standard pharmaceutical safeguards and protocols, and that it follows them rigorously.
“That doesn’t mean that the hospital is perfect. Human beings sometimes commit human error. But mistakes are one thing. Malpractice is something else entirely.”
Kramer paused to let his words sink in and used the long moment to look each juror in the eye again. He was talking to them, one at a time, making this personal.
“I’m afraid that this is going to be an emotional trial because people have died. But the judge will tell you that you can’t let the plaintiffs’ attorney obscure the facts by playing on your emotions.
“Weigh the facts as presented—that’s the job you’ve accepted and it’s your charge. The facts, ladies and gentlemen. The facts will convince you that my client is not negligent, and that my client performs an incredibly valuable service for our city of San Francisco.”
Cindy’s mind leaped ahead as Kramer thanked the jury and took his seat.
She saw the front-page headline in her mind—SAN FRANCISCO MUNICIPAL SUED FOR MALPRACTICE, the block of twenty victims’ photos and the rest of her story carried over to page three.
This trial was the stuff of books and movies.
Twenty people had died.
And whether or not the hospital was guilty, the evidence would shock people.
They would take it personally. And patients who were admitted to Municipal would be scared for their lives.
Hell, she was scared just listening at this trial.
