He moved to unlock it. This was about to get interesting.
Chapter 12
“Okay. You’ve guessed that this Lightness in Living conference isn’t our first encounter with Rita Ratwill,” Gerald said after securely closing the door and motioning me toward a chair near the window. “When we got to the first yoga class Monday morning, I didn’t recognize her at first. She used to work in a law office and she wore suits and had her hair in a much more businesslike style.”
“It was those square white plastic glasses that I noticed,” Nicole piped up. “She always wore those. But she didn’t seem to remember us. Not surprising, really. We only went to their office once or twice. It wasn’t until she, uh . . . died, that I learned her last name.”
Gerald shot her a look and continued. “The law office was her husband’s. David Ratwill was head of a firm that sued my company. Of course, he was young and eager and snapped up the case immediately.”
“What was the case about?” I asked. “Just generally.”
“Oh, I can tell you exactly. You probably heard about it on the news, roughly two years ago. The guy who thought he’d become an instant millionaire suing AceChem because his son was born with severe birth defects. Claimed our pesticide was used on the apples that his wife loved so much and her eating them caused the defects.”
“And you own AceChem? I do remember that one,” I said. “They won some enormous amount but AceChem is appealing.”
“On the grounds that the wife’s repeated use of illegal drugs during her pregnancy was never brought out in front of the jury. On the grounds that every one of our products is FDA approved and EPA tested—don’t even get me started on the joys of dealing with those agencies—and any burden of proof should rest with them. Common sense is dead, I tell you.” His face grew red as he paced the floor.
“Gerald, your heart—” Nicole said.
He took a deep breath. “I know. Okay, so Ratwill’s fledgling firm gets this big case. The dollar signs are glowing in his eyes. He’s promised the client untold riches, obviously. Truthfully, the case was so flimsy that our attorney was every bit as surprised as we were when he won it. Lifelong judge who should have been disbarred twenty years ago for his antics and a bleeding-heart jury who saw absolutely nothing they were shown except that poor little kid with breathing tubes and missing limbs.”
“Yeah, as I recall, that image made the news on a regular basis too,” I said.
“Why is it that no one, not the judge, the jury or the media gave a shit about how the kid got that way, they just wanted a big corporation to pin it on.”
Nicole signaled him again to slow down.
“I know. I’ve now got a heart condition and a stress-related cancer over this thing. Does anybody care how my health conditions came about?”
“But the appeal—is that going well?”
“Extremely. A new judge has already ruled that the mother’s drug use has to be admitted. He’s also allowed documents proving the government approval of every one of our chemicals. So, yes, I think we’ll win ultimately. Problem is that our insurance company already paid out a big chunk, not all but a lot, of the judgment. With the verdict getting overturned, David Ratwill and his client will be required to repay that money. Will we ever get it? Not likely. Ratwill went right out and spent his greedy share—big house, yacht in the Bahamas, art. Cash accounts that seem to have mysteriously disappeared. None of it but the real estate has a chance of selling for its full value. The client paid medical bills for their poor kid. How can I ask for that money back? But not to do so admits guilt to a certain degree in our convoluted legal system. In short, it’s a total mess.”
“What did Rita have to do with any of this?” I asked.
“Nothing directly, not with our case, anyway. She’d quit the law office awhile back, apparently went the New Agey
Chapter 12
“Okay. You’ve guessed that this Lightness in Living conference isn’t our first encounter with Rita Ratwill,” Gerald said after securely closing the door and motioning me toward a chair near the window. “When we got to the first yoga class Monday morning, I didn’t recognize her at first. She used to work in a law office and she wore suits and had her hair in a much more businesslike style.”
“It was those square white plastic glasses that I noticed,” Nicole piped up. “She always wore those. But she didn’t seem to remember us. Not surprising, really. We only went to their office once or twice. It wasn’t until she, uh . . . died, that I learned her last name.”
Gerald shot her a look and continued. “The law office was her husband’s. David Ratwill was head of a firm that sued my company. Of course, he was young and eager and snapped up the case immediately.”
“What was the case about?” I asked. “Just generally.”
“Oh, I can tell you exactly. You probably heard about it on the news, roughly two years ago. The guy who thought he’d become an instant millionaire suing AceChem because his son was born with severe birth defects. Claimed our pesticide was used on the apples that his wife loved so much and her eating them caused the defects.”
“And you own AceChem? I do remember that one,” I said. “They won some enormous amount but AceChem is appealing.”
“On the grounds that the wife’s repeated use of illegal drugs during her pregnancy was never brought out in front of the jury. On the grounds that every one of our products is FDA approved and EPA tested—don’t even get me started on the joys of dealing with those agencies—and any burden of proof should rest with them. Common sense is dead, I tell you.” His face grew red as he paced the floor.
“Gerald, your heart—” Nicole said.
He took a deep breath. “I know. Okay, so Ratwill’s fledgling firm gets this big case. The dollar signs are glowing in his eyes. He’s promised the client untold riches, obviously. Truthfully, the case was so flimsy that our attorney was every bit as surprised as we were when he won it. Lifelong judge who should have been disbarred twenty years ago for his antics and a bleeding-heart jury who saw absolutely nothing they were shown except that poor little kid with breathing tubes and missing limbs.”
“Yeah, as I recall, that image made the news on a regular basis too,” I said.
“Why is it that no one, not the judge, the jury or the media gave a shit about how the kid got that way, they just wanted a big corporation to pin it on.”
Nicole signaled him again to slow down.
“I know. I’ve now got a heart condition and a stress-related cancer over this thing. Does anybody care how my health conditions came about?”
“But the appeal—is that going well?”
“Extremely. A new judge has already ruled that the mother’s drug use has to be admitted. He’s also allowed documents proving the government approval of every one of our chemicals. So, yes, I think we’ll win ultimately. Problem is that our insurance company already paid out a big chunk, not all but a lot, of the judgment. With the verdict getting overturned, David Ratwill and his client will be required to repay that money. Will we ever get it? Not likely. Ratwill went right out and spent his greedy share—big house, yacht in the Bahamas, art. Cash accounts that seem to have mysteriously disappeared. None of it but the real estate has a chance of selling for its full value. The client paid medical bills for their poor kid. How can I ask for that money back? But not to do so admits guilt to a certain degree in our convoluted legal system. In short, it’s a total mess.”
“What did Rita have to do with any of this?” I asked.
“Nothing directly, not with our case, anyway. She’d quit the law office awhile back, apparently went the New Agey
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