Corbett was unsympathetic. “If you had studied the records, Mr. Upshaw, you would have realized it happened in 2012, over two years ago.”
With a bit of drama, Peter slid the original records across the table, as if surrendering the smoking gun. Mark looked at them, bewildered, and asked, “So what do we do now?”
Corbett said, “I have no advice, never been in this spot before. But I suppose you should notify your errors-and-omissions carrier, put them on notice. What’s your coverage?”
Errors and what? Coverage? Mark looked at Todd, who was already looking at him; both were thoroughly stupefied. “I’ll have to check,” Mark said, still mumbling.
Corbett said, “You do that. Now please leave and take your records with you.”
Peter walked to the door and opened it. Mark picked up the stack of records and followed Todd out of the room. Someone slammed the door behind them. The comely secretary was not at her desk on the way out. The oak-paneled elevator seemed stuffier on the ride down. The doorman wasn’t as friendly as they left the building. Not a word passed between them until they were safely locked in Todd’s car, with Ramon’s medical records flung across the backseat.
Todd gripped the wheel and said, “Well, that’s the last case we refer to that prick.”
From somewhere, Mark found humor and began laughing. To keep from crying, Todd laughed too, and they managed to keep it going until they parked behind The Rooster Bar.
—
ZOLA FOUND THEM in their booth, empty mugs on the table. One look into their eyes and she knew they had been there for a spell. She slid into a spot next to Mark and looked across at Todd. Neither spoke. She finally asked, “Okay, how’d it go?”
Todd asked, “You ever heard of errors-and-omissions insurance? For lawyers?”
“Don’t think so. Why?”
Mark said, “Well, it appears as though every lawyer with a license carries malpractice insurance that’s commonly referred to as errors-and-omissions. And this insurance comes in handy when the lawyer screws up and does something really bad like sit on a case until the statute of limitations runs out and the case evaporates, forever. The client gets pissed off and sues the lawyer, and the lawyer’s insurance company comes in to defend. It’s really smart insurance.”
“Too bad we don’t have any of it,” Todd said.
“We could sure use it. We missed the statute of limitations, Zola, in Ramon’s case. It ran out on February 25, two years after the baby died. Two years in Virginia. Did you learn that in law school?”
“No.”
“That makes three of us. Six days after I met with Koonce and two days before I made the first call to Corbett, the statute ran out. There’s no way around it, and there’s no one to blame but me.”
“Us,” Todd said. “The firm. All for one and one for all, right?”
“Not so fast,” she said.
Mark added, “Actually, a couple of his flunkies saw it when they were going through the records. They fetched him; he said get out. I thought at one point he might call security to escort us from the building.”
“A real charmer, huh?”
“Can’t blame him,” Todd said. “He’s just making sure his firm is off the hook. It’s not every day that a couple of bozos walk in with a big case that’s already dead and they’re too stupid to know it.”
She nodded and tried to absorb it all. Mark waved at a waiter and ordered another round.
Zola asked, “So how did Ramon take the news?”
Mark grunted, smiled. “I haven’t called him yet. I think you should do it.”
“Me!? Why?”
“Because I’m a coward. And you could pull it off. Meet him for a drink. Turn on the charm. He’ll be impressed and maybe he won’t sue us for $5 million.”
“You are kidding,” she said.
“Yes, Zola,” Mark said. “I’m kidding. This one is on me. I’ll eventually meet with Ramon and somehow get through it. The real problem, though, is Mossberg. He’s sitting by the phone waiting to hear what our expert says. At some point, and soon, I have to tell him the truth. The lawsuit is gone for good. He’ll sue us on behalf of Asia, and our cover will be blown. Simple as that.”
“Why would he sue if we have no insurance and no assets?” she asked.
“Because he’s a lawyer. He sues everybody.”
Todd said, “Wait a minute. That’s a very good question. What if we simply go to Mossberg and tell the guy the truth? He’s way down in Charleston and couldn’t care less about what we’re doing up here. Tell him we dropped out of law school and we’re trying to make a buck on the streets, without being properly admitted to the bar. Sure we screwed up his case, and we’re very sorry about that. Just a bunch of idiots, right? But why sue us when we have nothing? Why waste the paper? Hell, he’s got plenty of other cases.”
“Okay, you drive to Charleston,” Mark said. “My Bronco won’t make it.”
“What do you tell Ramon?” she asked.
The waiter placed two beers and a soda on the table. Mark took a long drink and wiped his mouth. “Ramon? Well, I suppose telling him the truth might be disastrous, so let’s stick with the lying for now. I’ll tell him our expert didn’t like the facts, couldn’t see any liability, and so we’re looking for another expert. We need some time here, so let’s stall him. Let a few months pass. Keep in mind he’s been sitting on the case for two years and he runs hot and cold.”
“He won’t back off now,” Todd said. “You’ve managed to get him excited.”
“You got a better idea?”
“No, not at the moment. It’s best to keep lying. With our practice, when in doubt—keep lying.”
27
On Friday, March 21, two days after the beginning of the end of UPL, Edwin Mossberg called twice before noon. Mark ignored both calls. He was hiding in the upstairs coffee bar of an old, cramped used-book store near Farragut Square, reading the complimentary daily newspapers and killing time. Todd was supposedly stalking the halls at the District Courthouse while Zola was supposedly camping out in a hospital prayer room where families huddled with ministers. However, Mark seriously doubted either of the other two was hard at work. Their dream of a big, easy score had eased the pressure and lulled them into a false sense of security.
Now that the dream had vanished so dramatically, they were reeling. They had agreed that it was imperative to double down and rake in as much cash as possible before the sky fell, but failure killed their motivation.
Mossberg’s e-mail hit like a bomb.
Mr. Upshaw: I’ve called twice but no answer. Are you on top of the statute here?? My client is not sure of the delivery date but thinks it was around this time of the year, late February or early March 2012. Again, we don’t have the medical records. Virginia has a two-year statute, courtesy of tort reform, and I’m sure you’re aware of this. Please call as soon as possible.