Read Online Directed Verdict by Randy Singer - Free Book Online Page A

hit him. He had seen this lady on the news. The missionary whose husband had died in Saudi Arabia. CNN had run live coverage of her testimony before the Senate Foreign Affairs Committee. The government of Saudi Arabia had denied Sarah’s allegations of murder. They claimed her husband died from a heart attack unrelated to the injuries he received from resisting arrest on drug charges.
    In the end, the importance of the vast Saudi oil reserves won out over the testimony of a missionary. The committee authored a scathing report but avoided any real sanctions against the government of Saudi Arabia, and the Saudis agreed to conduct an internal investigation and punish any renegade police officers. The Senate placed the Saudis on probation for a while, and the Saudis agreed to diligently protect human rights.
    The oil kept flowing.
    “I remember now. I’m sorry about your husband,” Brad said earnestly. “And I’m sorry about the way your case was handled by the government.”
    Sarah shrugged and seemed to relax just a little. “Thanks. I’m just trying to move on. One day at a time.”
    “Can we help you with anything?” Brad asked.
    Bella shot him a look. “She was referred by Reverend Bailey,” Bella said, as if that explained everything. Reverend Bailey’s church members had not given up on their abortion protests, and many had tried to solicit Brad’s representation.
    Once had been enough.
    But Brad could sense that Sarah had not come for that reason. He saw something else etched in the soft lines of her face. She looked tired, older now than she had seemed just a few months before when he saw her on television.
    “Well,” Brad said, “as fate would have it, my day just cleared up. Come on back to the conference room, and we’ll talk.” He turned to Bella with a playful smile. “Bella, could you get a couple cups of coffee?”
    Bella grunted and stalked down the hallway to the kitchen. Brad ushered Sarah into the conference room.
    * * *
    “This is ridiculous,” Brad said, slapping the letter down on the large oak table. “Unbelievable.”
    The letter came from Charles’s life insurance company and denied Sarah’s claim for one hundred thousand dollars in death benefits. Brad glanced down to the operative paragraph:
    The investigation of Trust Indemnity has revealed that, according to tests performed at the hospital and during the autopsy, the Insured had a lethally high dosage of cocaine in his bloodstream on the night of his demise, and the Insured’s heart attack was precipitated in part by this self-induced overdose of cocaine. Accordingly, Trust Indemnity cannot honor your claim for insurance proceeds in light of Exclusion 4 Section A(2).
    Brad stood and began to pace, still holding the letter. To line their own pockets, the insurance company had chosen to disregard Sarah’s version of the facts and to conclude that Dr. Reed had died from a self-inflicted drug overdose. And, Brad knew, this was par for the course with Trust Indemnity. He had sued them twice in the last year alone for bad faith.
    He looked at Sarah’s expectant expression. She was just sitting there, engulfed by the deep leather swivel chair, her hands folded on the table, concern etched deeply into her brow.
    “We’ll sue,” Brad promised. He said it with that air of authority that clients loved. “This is outrageous. We’ll sue for every penny of the hundred thousand; then we’ll sue for bad faith and punitive damages. I’ve had lots of run-ins with these folks, but this is the worst.” He paused for emphasis. “It’s time to teach these guys a lesson.”
    Brad was surprised that the look on Sarah’s face did not change. He didn’t get the same sparkle in the eyes, the you-tell-’em look he was used to receiving from other clients when he uttered the magic words “punitive damages.” If anything, the creases of concern on Sarah’s forehead burrowed deeper.
    “Couldn’t you just send a letter and see if we