Leonard didn't understand.
“A lieutenant. Another lawyer at the firm who helped him run the case.”
“There's a young partner, Chris Palmieri. I'm sure he's competent, but he doesn't have the experience to take the lead on a case this size. We need someone with your instincts. Your judgment.”
“San Francisco's a trial lawyer's town. There have to be two dozen lawyers there who could do the job.”
“You don't know our general counsel. There are only four lawyers in town Ed Barnum thinks are any good. Two of them are already booked, and another's a prima donna who won't work with a team that some other lawyer put together. The fourth one is representing St. Gall.”
Seeley turned his back to the lake. “I've handled big patent cases, but most of them were mechanical inventions. Railroad couplers. Dumpsters. Stents. I've done some electronics and chemicals, but vaccines are science.” By the time biotech suits were first reaching the courts, Seeley's law practice in New York had already collapsed.
“Do you think Bob Pearsall knew anything about immunology? You can learn the science the same way he did. We wouldn't want you if we weren't certain you could do it. We have an expert witness from UCSF who can fill you in on anything you can't figure out for yourself. If you want, I'll tutor you.”
A gull came in low past the railing, distracting Seeley. Ignoring the gloved, shooing hands of the three ladies, it snatched a crust from their table and continued on, out over the lake, all in a single sweep. A
warning stenciled on the railing read DO NOT FEED THE BIRDS. To himself, Seeley filled in the punch line: BECAUSE THEY CAN FEED THEMSELVES.
“When your lawyer, Pearsall, got hit by the train, Lenny-you didn't push him, did you?”
Seeley didn't know why he asked the question. Maybe it was Leonard's lecturing him about the poverty of his life in Buffalo, or maybe it was Leonard's having an answer for every excuse Seeley could give for not taking the case. Seeley knew the excuses were weak. Who was he angry at, Leonard or himself?