Читать книгу Bad Blood - James Baehler - Страница 8

Vincent Barbutti was fifty-five years old, average height, full head of wavy dark hair only slightly touched with gray and with an air of ease and competence. In a heavily starched white shirt without a wrinkle and blue Windsor-knotted tie, he sat at his polished oak desk framed by a large picture window on the thirtieth floor overlooking Wacker Drive. The usual neatly shelved law books were on one wall, floor to ceiling. On the other wall was a large painting of a cow being pulled in opposite directions by two men dressed in eighteenth century English regalia. Sitting on a stool was an obvious attorney, white wig and all, milking the cow. The picture was captioned The Law Suit. On the same wall was a wide shelf on which was a model of a large yacht. The yacht was named, Justice

Barbutti listened carefully to Marilyn’s story. He surprised her by the medical sophistication of his questions. When the clinical story was over he asked, “Mrs. Wallberg, what was your husbands income?”

“He made about $480,000 per year.”

“Uh huh. How old was he?”

“Almost forty-four.”

Barbutti made quick mental calculations muttering to himself, “Let’s see, work until age 65…twenty-one years to go. Close to ten million of lost wages…consider increased wages over time…conservatively ten percent raises per year…” His cerebral calculator clicked. The figures rapidly leaped into consciousness, honed by much practice. “Bonuses… pain and suffering and loss of consortium…” More figures fell into place.

Finally Barbutti looked up, “Mrs. Wallberg, from the medical standpoint this case is indeed worth investigating. I can’t tell you whether we will take the case or not, but rest assured we will obtain the medical record from the hospital and I will have it thoroughly evaluated by our consultants. My secretary will give you a form to sign authorizing the release of your husband’s records.”

“How soon will you know?”

“I’m going to give you an appointment to see me in two weeks. We should have an answer for you by then. If we take the case and we’re successful, you will undoubtedly receive a large seven-figure award. Our fee is one-third of the judgment plus our expenses. Since the expenses can sometimes be considerable and if we lose the case we must bear those costs we are extremely cautious about the cases we take.”

“Yes sir. When do I come back?”

“My secretary will give you your appointment. It’s been very nice to meet you, Mrs. Wallberg. I hope we may be of service to you.”

That was short, sweet and to the point, thought Marilyn.

Her daily hectic activities at home with her children at least allowed her to keep the thoughts of the potential lawsuit buried. Within five days of Mrs. Wallberg’s visit the medical record arrived at Barbutti’s office. A nurse attorney scrutinized the chart word by word. She confessed indecisiveness as to whether or not there were grounds for a lawsuit. She recognized the unusual nature of the case. Dr. Harris accompanying the patient in the ambulance impressed her. That unusual occurrence would no doubt tilt the jury in his favor. She did agree that the complexities of the diagnostic dilemma could leave room for doubt. The kicker here was the rapid decision that Dr. Harris had to make. It may have been the wrong decision. Another point was that the anesthesiologist was reluctant to follow the doctor’s order and that fact would possibly create an adversarial relationship amongst the doctors, always a boon for the plaintiff. The failure of the anesthesiologist to be able to draw blood before the patient’s heart stopped made it impossible to eventually come to a definite diagnosis.

A medical consultant disagreed with the approach taken by Dr. Harris. He stated he would never have been so therapeutically aggressive with the heparin. He did say the heparin could have aggravated the condition and the lack of the blood tests that Dr. Harris ordered the anesthesiologist to draw would make it impossible to come to an exact diagnosis. Was it possible that Dr. Harris did make a surgical error and there was indeed a bleeder that he attempted to hide? Of course that was possible, but to suggest it was a stretch. An autopsy might have answered some of the questions but in whose favor there was no way to tell. Barbutti decided there were enough areas of doubt for a jury to consider. He was confident that with a typical Cook County jury he could create enough sympathy for the widow and her children to get a substantial judgment. It was no slam-dunk, but it was worth the effort.

Marilyn received the news from Barbutti in his office. She had mixed feelings accompanied by some degree of apprehension and she listened carefully to his explanation. When he finished she said, “How much will you ask for?”

“About fifty million.”

Marilyn gasped. “Could you get that much?”

“Of course. Your husband had great income potential. There are also claims for pain and suffering and loss of consortium.”

“What’s that?” Marilyn asked puzzled.

Barbutti smiled benignly, “Since your husband is now deceased, you are denied the comfort of the physical side of marriage to which you are entitled. In law, that is called consortium. Since it is no longer available to you, you should be compensated for its absence.”

Marilyn tried not to blush at the mention of sexual relations between a husband and wife. How could a price be attached to such a loss? The law did indeed work its wonders in strange ways.

Barbutti continued, “Fortunately, the hospital is located in suburban Cook County so we’ll file suit here in Chicago,” he told her.

“Why do you say, fortunately?”

“Because Chicago juries are much more favorably inclined toward the plaintiff in a case of malpractice.”

“I see. Well, I leave this entirely in your hands, Mr. Barubtti. When do you suppose it will come to trial?”

“Oh, not for at least four years, perhaps longer.”

“Four years!”

“I’m afraid so. The courts in Chicago have far more cases filed each year than can be heard. There is a possibility that the insurance company for the hospital may make a settlement offer before it comes to trial but I don’t want to raise any false hopes.”

“The hospital?” Marilyn was puzzled. “But I thought only the surgeon might have been at fault.”

Barbutti was patient, “Mrs. Wallberg, we don’t know yet who specifically was at fault. That’s for the jury to decide. My job is to bring all possible defendants into the case and let the jury sort them out and assign responsibility. Besides, we don’t know how much malpractice coverage the surgeon has or what his assets are. If it is less than the jury awards you, we need some other pockets to dip into. That’s why we name everyone we possibly can. We’d name the nurses and the operating room personnel also but we don’t have to. They are all employees of the hospital and if any of them is found guilty of negligence, then the hospital insurance covers them. Frankly, the best outcome for us is if the jury holds all three parties guilty of negligence. Then we have three insurance carriers to cover any award the jury might make.”