A Patent Lie by Paul Goldstein Page B

trial, and I don't want to be blindsided if they do. Make me a list of all the prior art you would have cited if you hadn't listened to Steinhardt or Leonard Seeley.”
    “I've got a lot on my desk.”
    “I want the references by the end of the day.”
    McKee rocked back on the balls of his feet, chest out, jaw working. “You're not even a partner here.”
    Seeley didn't get up. “I'm trying a case for a client of this law firm, and I'm not going to lose it because one of the firm's lawyers was too lazy or insecure to stand up to a client and tell the client that what it was asking him to do was wrong.”
    “They would have fired us.”
    “You've got it backward, Boyd. You should have fired them. If you can't stand up to a client, you might as well turn in your bar card.”
    McKee reddened. “Like I said, I'll get to it when I can.”
    Seeley watched McKee's back go through the door. He had made no friends at Vaxtek yesterday, and it seemed that he wasn't making any at Heilbrun, Hardy, either. But it was none of his business what these people thought of him. Sitting at Pearsall's desk, Seeley sensed that he was doing exactly what Pearsall himself would have done were he alive. What he didn't know was whether that was a good or a bad thing.
    The telephone rang.
    “Mr. Seeley?”
    “Yes.”
    “This is Lily Warren.”

SIX
----
    Over the course of his practice, Seeley had read the résumés of dozens of scientists—mostly expert witnesses testifying for or against his clients—men and women in their fifties and sixties at the top of careers filled with academic appointments, government consultancies, and awards, including in two cases a Nobel Prize. From the résumé Seeley found in the witness file, Lily Warren was at thirty-six on the same path as these other scientists, one of those rare individuals who can set a goal and then pursue it undistracted by physical or emotional limits. When he explained to her on the telephone that he was Vaxtek's lawyer and that there were facts about the discovery of AV/AS he needed to confirm, the pleasantly husky voice at the other end had the measure of authority. Seeley also thought he detected a British accent.
    “If you're their lawyer, you know that everyone's decided that Alan Steinhardt got there first. Whatever I did, it doesn't matter.”
    Seeley had said only that he wanted to confirm facts about the discovery, not her role in it. “I also know about your visit to Steinhardt's lab.”
    “I promised I wouldn't talk about this to anyone.”
    If she didn't want to talk, she wouldn't have returned his call. “Did you sign a confidentiality agreement?”
    “There's nothing in writing.” She sounded surprised that he didn't know. “They didn't make me sign anything.”
    If St. Gall didn't think it was necessary for her to sign a secrecy agreement, that meant the company had some grip on Warren stronger than a lawsuit for breach of contract.
    She said, “You're taking over for the lawyer who killed himself.”
    “Robert Pearsall. I won't ask you anything he didn't already know.” Seeley would take it one fact at a time. “I know St. Gall conceded that Steinhardt was the first to invent AV/AS.”
    “That's what St. Gall and your client agreed.” Seeley imagined a foot tapping with impatience.
    “And at the time Steinhardt made his discovery, you had already stopped working for him.”
    “
With
him. I worked with Alan, not for him. When he left UC to go to Vaxtek, I went to St. Gall.”
    “Before St. Gall and Vaxtek made their agreement, did someone from Pearsall's law firm interview you?” Seeley was still a long way from what a St. Gall employee was doing at a competitor's laboratory alone, after hours, but he was certain that Pearsall wouldn't have accepted the stipulation unless he had satisfied himself that no one had coerced Warren.
    “Pearsall interviewed me himself.”
    “What did you talk about?”
    There was a long silence. “You're persistent, aren't