The Verdict Page #20

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MARY ROONEY:

I've got nothing to say to you.

GALVIN:

You know what happened.

MARY ROONEY:

Nothing happened.

GALVIN:

Then why aren't you testifying for

their side?

She starts to close the door. He stops her.

GALVIN:

I can subpoena you, you know. I can

get you up there on the stand.

MARY ROONEY:

And ask me what?

GALVIN:

Who put my client in the hospital

for life.

MARY ROONEY:

I didn't do it, Mister.

GALVIN:

Who are you protecting, then?

MARY ROONEY:

Who says that I'm protecting anyone?

GALVIN:

I do. Who is it? The Doctors. What

do you owe them?

MARY ROONEY:

I don't owe them a goddamn thing.

GALVIN:

Then why don't you testify?

MARY ROONEY:

(beat)

You know, you're pushy, fella...

GALVIN:

You think I'm pushy now, wait 'til I

get you on the stand...

MARY ROONEY:

Well, maybe you better do that, then.

(starts to close door;

stops)

You know you guys are all the same.

You don't care who gets hurt. You're

a bunch of whores. You'd do anything

for a dollar. You got no loyalty...

no nothing... you're a bunch of

whores.

SHE CLOSES THE DOOR ON HIM.

INT. CONCANNON'S OFFICE - NIGHT

A young LAWYER on the phone, silent, nodding, taking notes.

He holds up his hand to someone indicating "Almost done.

I'll be right with you."

ANGLE:

Concannon, in overcoat, about to go out, surrounded by an

entourage of secretaries and ASSISTANTS in overcoats, waiting

on him.

ANGLE:

Concannon and the Young Attorney. The Young Attorney into

phone, "Thank you." He hangs up, starts reading from his

notes to Concannon:

YOUNG ATTORNEY:

His name is Dr. Lionel Thompson.

City College of New York, Class of

twenty-six. Bachelor of Science; New

York College of Medicine; sixteenth

in a class of twenty-two. Nineteen

seventy-six got a courtesy

appointment, staff of anesthesiology,

Easthampton Hospital for Women. Never

married. Has no honors or degrees of

any weight. Since nineteen seventy-

five he's testified in twenty-eight

court cases, twelve malpractice.

(smiles, saving his

best 'til last)

And he's black.

CONCANNON:

(beat; stern)

I'm going to tell you how you handle

the fact that he's black. You don't

touch it. You don't mention it. You

treat him like anybody else. Neither

better or worse.

(smiles)

And you get a black lawyer to sit at

our table. Okay...?

YOUNG ATTORNEY:

Yessir.

CONCANNON:

Good. What else do you do?

YOUNG ATTORNEY:

...get the records of his testimony

in the twelve malpractice cases.

Concannon nods, meaning "that is correct." He turns, exiting

with his ENTOURAGE. Over his shoulder:

CONCANNON:

Do it. We'll be at Locke-Obers.

INT. GALVIN'S APARTMENT SITTING ROOM - NIGHT

Dr. Thompson in shirt sleeves, attentive, stands against a

sideboard. Mickey Morrissey, seated, in an armchair.

Grilling him.

DR. THOMPSON

They gave her the wrong anesthetic.

MICKEY:

Why is that?

DR. THOMPSON

(starting on reciting

a list)

Her sister said she ate one hour

prior to admittance... she...

MICKEY:

...that's what the sister said. The

chart said she ate nine hours prior

to...

DR. THOMPSON

...she went in complaining of stomach

cramps. Good doctor would have doubted

the information on the chart.

MICKEY:

Is that what a good doctor would do?

How old are you, please?

DR. THOMPSON

I am seventy-four years old.

MICKEY:

What qualifies you as an expert in

anesthetics?

DR. THOMPSON

I am on the staff of...

MICKEY:

Easthampton Hospital for Women. Excuse

me, what is that, a joke? Let me

tell you something, Doctor, those

men at Catherine Laboure. Men who

are known not only in this city, but

the world, were trying to save a

woman's life. They were there, and

here you are, four years later, read

some hospital report, and say...

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