The Litigators (Page 39)

The apartment was sparsely furnished but neat and clean. The only effort at decor was a large photograph of Aung San Suu Kyi, the 1991 Nobel Peace Prize winner and most famous dissident in Burma. Something was on the stove in the kitchen, and its pungent aroma reeked of onions. In the car, the Zincs had vowed not to stay for dinner in the unlikely event they were invited. Thuya’s two sisters were not to be seen or heard.

The yellowish tea was served in tiny cups, and after a sip or two Soe said, “Why do you want to talk to us?”

David took his first sip, hoped it would be his last, and said, “Because if your son has in fact been poisoned by lead, and if the lead came from a toy or something here in the apartment, then you may—and I emphasize the word ‘may’—have a case against the maker of the dangerous product. I would like to investigate this matter, but I am making no promises.”

“You mean we could get money?”

“Possibly. That’s the purpose of the case, or lawsuit, but first we need to dig a little deeper.”

“How much money?”

Here, of course, Wally would promise them anything. David had heard him promise—or practically guarantee—a million or more to several of his Krayoxx clients.

“I can’t answer that,” David said. “It’s too early. I would like to investigate, see if we can put together a case, and take it one step at a time.”

Helen was watching her husband with admiration. He was doing a fine job in an arena where he knew nothing and had no experience. He’d never seen a lawsuit at Rogan Rothberg.

“Okay,” Soe said. “What now?”

“Two things,” David said. “First, I’d like to have a look at his things—toys, books, bed—anything that might be a source of lead. Second, I need for you to sign some papers that will allow me to begin accumulating his medical records.”

Soe nodded at Lwin, who reached into a small box and removed a plastic ziploc bag. She opened it and on the small coffee table lined up five pairs of fake teeth and fangs—blue, black, green, purple, and red. Zaw added the pink ones from the afternoon visit, and the set was complete.

“These called Nasty Teeth,” Soe said.

David stared at the row of Nasty Teeth and for the first time felt the twinge of excitement of a big lawsuit. He picked up the green ones—hard but pliable plastic, flexible enough to open and close easily. He had no trouble seeing a pesky little brother with these in his mouth, growling and snapping at his sisters.

“Your son played with these?” David asked. Lwin nodded sadly.

Soe said, “He like them, kept them in his mouth. Tried to eat dinner with them one night.”

“Who bought them?” David asked.

“I did,” Soe said. “I bought a few things for Halloween. Cost not too much.”

“Where did you buy them?” David asked, almost holding his breath. He hoped for an answer like Walmart, Kmart, Target, Sears, Macy’s—some chain with deep pockets.

“At market,” Soe said.

“What market?”

“Big mall. Near Logan Square.”

Helen said, “Probably the Mighty Mall,” and David’s excitement waned a bit. The Mighty Mall was a hodgepodge of cavernous metal buildings housing a maze of cramped stalls and booths where one could find almost anything of legal value and many items from the black market. Cheap clothing, household goods, old albums, athletic gear, counterfeit CDs, used paperbacks, fake jewelry, toys, games, a million things. The low prices attracted large crowds. Virtually all business was in cash. Record keeping and receipts were not priorities.

“Did these come in a package?” David asked. A package would provide the name of the manufacturer and maybe the importer.

“Yes, but it gone,” Soe said. “In garbage, long time ago.”

“No package,” Lwin added.

The apartment had two bedrooms—one used by the parents, the other by the children. David followed Soe as the women stayed in the den. Thuya’s bed was a small mattress on the floor near his sisters’. The children had a small, cheap bookcase filled with coloring books and paperbacks. Next to it was a plastic tub filled with boy toys.

“This his,” Soe said, pointing to the tub.

“May I look through it?” David asked.

“Yes, please.”

David dropped to his knees and slowly went through the box—action figures, race cars, airplanes, a pistol, and handcuffs, the usual assortment of inexpensive toys for a five-year-old boy. When he stood, he said, “I’ll look at these later. For now, just make sure that everything stays here.”

Back in the den, the Nasty Teeth were ziplocked again. David explained that he would send them to an expert on lead poisoning and have them evaluated. If the teeth did indeed contain unsuitable levels of lead, then they would meet again and discuss the lawsuit. He cautioned that it might be difficult to pin down the maker of the toys, and he tried to dampen any enthusiasm for the thought of one day collecting money. The three—Zaw, Lwin, and Soe—seemed as puzzled and apprehensive when the Zincs were leaving as they’d been when they arrived. Soe was on his way to the hospital to spend the night with Thuya.

The following morning, David sent by overnight parcel the set of Nasty Teeth to a lab in Akron. Its director, Dr. Biff Sandroni, was a leading expert on lead poisoning in children. He also sent a check for $2,500, not from Finley & Figg, but from his personal bank account. David had yet to discuss the case with his two bosses and planned to avoid doing so until more was known.

Sandroni called two days later to say he had received the package, and the check, and that it would be a week or so before he could get around to testing the teeth. He was keenly interested because he had never seen a toy designed to be placed in the mouth. Virtually every toy he examined was one that a child chewed on for whatever reasons. The likely sources of the toy were China, Mexico, and India, and without the package it would be virtually impossible to determine the importer and manufacturer.

Sandroni was a big talker and went on about his most significant cases. He testified all the time—“love the courtroom”—and took full responsibility for several million-dollar verdicts. He called David “David” and insisted on being called Biff. As David listened, he could not remember another conversation with someone named Biff. The bluster would have worried David but for his research into lead-poisoning experts. Dr. Sandroni was a warrior with impeccable credentials.

At 7:00 the next Saturday morning, David and Helen found the Mighty Mall and parked in a crowded lot. Traffic was thick; the place already busy. It was thirty degrees outside and not much warmer inside. They waited in a long line for beverages, bought two tall cups of hot cocoa, then began roaming. As chaotic as the market appeared, there was some semblance of organization. The food vendors were near the front, with such takeaway delicacies as Pronto Pups, doughnuts, and cotton candy drawing fans. Then a stretch of booths offering inexpensive clothing and shoes. Another long aisle was lined with books and jewelry, then furniture and auto parts.

The shoppers, as well as the vendors, were of all shades and colors. Along with English and Spanish, there were many other languages: Asian tongues, something from Africa, then a loud voice that was probably Russian.

David and Helen moved with the crowd, stopping occasionally to inspect something of interest. After an hour, and with the hot cocoa growing cooler, they found the household goods section, then the toys. There were three booths offering thousands of cheap gadgets and playthings, none of which resembled a set of Nasty Teeth. The Zincs were well aware they were months away from Halloween and were unlikely to find costumes and such.