The Mourning Sexton by Michael Baron Page B

perspiration on his face, a faint glimmer in his dull eyes.
    Hirsch waited. Guttner stared at him.
    Hirsch asked, “What is the one thing we both know?”
    “That there was not a damn thing wrong with any of those tires.”
    “I assumed that would be your position, Marvin.”
    “Hardly just mine, David. I had one of our accident reconstruction experts review the evidence. She sees no indication of tire malfunction.”
    “She needs to look closer.”
    “Come, come, David. We can be frank with one another. This lunch is off the record. Whatever is said here goes no further. You know, and I know you know, that there is no evidence of culpability on the part of my client.”
    “I've lost cases I should have won, Marvin, and I've won cases I should have lost.”
    “This is one case you are not going to win.”
    Hirsch shrugged. “Juries can be unpredictable.”
    “Assuming you even get to a jury. What if the judge throws the case out before trial?”
    “As you said, Marvin, let's be frank with one another. No City of St. Louis judge is going to toss this case before trial. We'll be picking a jury a year from now.”
    “So what? Let us imagine that you get your chance to play Clarence Darrow to a typical city jury of troglodytes. That's only chapter one. We both know that the existence of St. Louis juries is the reason why we have a court of appeals. I am quite confident that my client will prevail at the end of this lawsuit.”
    Hirsch smiled. “And this is why you asked me to lunch?”
    Guttner chuckled. “Touché”
    The fat man leaned forward, his smile fading.
    Finally,
Hirsch thought.
    “As so often is the case, David, the economics of the lawsuit bear little relation to its merits. Although my client will no doubt prevail in the end, the price of victory will be substantial. That same calculus applies for the other two defendants, each of whom can expect to incur legal fees well above their liability exposure in the case.”
    “You make a lot of assumptions for a lawsuit that's a month old.”
    “I think not, David. Even if you could win, where are your damages? This is a wrongful death claim on behalf of a woman who had no husband, no children, no siblings, and no financial dependents. There is no claim for lost income or lost support. As for loss of companionship, the only possible claimant is her father. While we will no doubt learn a great deal more about that relationship during discovery, our preliminary investigation suggests that the father and daughter were not especially close. Indeed, some might say they were estranged at the time of her death. But even if they were close—indeed, even if the elder Shifrin takes the stand and tells a tale of paternal devotion worthy of a Hallmark greeting card—this is not a big damage case.”
    “And your point is?”
    “My point is that these defendants are corporations, David. From their perspective, this is nothing more than a routine one-car fatality on an icy road. Is her death regrettable? Certainly. Does that make them blameworthy? Certainly not. Does the case have any significance as a future precedent for them? Hardly. A courtroom victory advances no master strategy for any of them, and defeat establishes no harmful precedent. That suggests certain possibilities, David, including that these defendants might be willing to explore a resolution that would rid them of the case
now
for an amount less than their anticipated litigation costs in the future. Especially my client, in light of the decedent's connection to the judge.”
    “Did you know Judith Shifrin?”
    “Not really. I tend to leave the daily grind of my cases to those more interested in the procedural minutiae of litigation. She was present at one of the pretrial conferences I attended. I recall a little wisp of a girl with dark hair and keen eyes. The attorneys who dealt with her on a regular basis spoke favorably of her diligence and ability.” He puckered his lips thoughtfully. “By all