out.
———
R ochelle was never in a hurry to leave, because she never wanted to go home. As tense as things could get around the office, they were far tamer than her cramped and chaotic apartment.
The Flanders’ divorce got off to a rocky start, but with Oscar’s skillful manipulation it was now on track. Mrs. Flander had hired the firm and paid a retainer of $750. It would eventually be worked out and settled on no-fault grounds, but not before Oscar clipped her for a couple of grand. Still, Oscar was fuming over the bingo card and lying in wait for his junior partner.
Wally rolled in at 5:30, after an exhausting day looking for Krayoxx victims. The search had turned up no one but Chester Marino, but Wally was undaunted. He was onto something big. The clients were out there, and he would find them.
“Oscar’s on the phone,” Rochelle said. “And he’s upset.”
“What’s up?” Wally asked.
“A bingo card showed up: $399.”
“Pretty clever, huh? My uncle plays bingo at the VFW.”
“Brilliant.” She gave him the quick version of the Flander situation.
“See! It worked,” Wally said proudly. “You gotta get ’em in here, Ms. Gibson, that’s what I always say. The $399 is the bait, then you pull the switch. Oscar did it perfectly.”
“What about false advertising?”
“Most of what we do is false advertising. Ever hear of Krayoxx? Cholesterol drug?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“It’s killing people, okay, and it’s gonna make us rich.”
“I think I’ve heard this before. He’s off the phone.”
Wally went straight to Oscar’s door, rapped it as he pushed it open, and said, “So you like my bingo card ads, I hear.”
Oscar was standing at his desk, tie undone, tired, and in need of a drink. Two hours earlier he’d been ready for a fight. Now he just wanted to leave. “Come on, Wally, bingo cards?”
“Yep, we’re the first law firm in Chicago to use bingo cards.”
“We’ve been the first several times, and we’re still broke.”
“Those days are over, my friend,” Wally said as he reached into his briefcase. “Ever hear of a cholesterol drug called Krayoxx?”
“Yeah, yeah, my wife’s taking it.”
“Well, Oscar, it’s killing people.”
Oscar actually smiled, then caught himself. “How do you know this?”
Wally dropped a stack of research onto Oscar’s desk. “Here’s your homework, all about Krayoxx. A big mass tort firm in Fort Lauderdale sued Varrick Labs last week over Krayoxx, a class action. They claim the drug vastly increases the risk of heart attack and stroke, and they have experts to prove it. Varrick has put more crap on the market than any of the Big Pharmas, and it’s also paid more in damages. Billions. Looks like Krayoxx is its latest boondoggle. The mass tort boys are just now waking up. This is happening now, Oscar, and if we can pick up a dozen or so Krayoxx cases, then we’re rich.”
“I’ve heard this all before, Wally.”
W hen the cab stopped, David was awake again, though semiconscious. With some effort, he managed to toss two $20 bills over the front seat and with even more effort managed to extricate himself from the cab. He watched it drive away, then vomited in the gutter.
Afterward, he felt much better.
Rochelle was tidying up her desk and listening to the partners bicker when she heard heavy footsteps on the porch. Something hit the door, then it swung open. The young man was wild-eyed, red-faced, unsteady on his feet, but well dressed.
“Can I help you?” she said with great suspicion.
David looked at her but didn’t see her. He looked around the room, wobbled, squinted as he tried to focus.
“Sir?” she said.
“I love this place,” he said to her. “I really, really love this place.”
“How nice. Could I—”
“I’m looking for a job, and this is where I want to work.”
AC smelled trouble and walked around the corner of Rochelle’s desk. “How cute!” David said loudly, giggling. “A dog.
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