Scott Winslow Legal Mysteries

Chapter 1-2

A woman in her mid-thirties approached the group and said, “If you"ll follow me, Mr. Cook is ready to see you now.” They walked down the hall past the two offices and a massive conference room and into Cook"s private sanctuary. The woman indicated a conversation area on one side of the large room. “Please have a seat and Mr. Cook will be with you soon.”

Marty and Justin took a seat on the elegant couch behind a marble coffee table and Arthur took a seat on one of the armchairs that had been placed at either the end of the coffee table. No one spoke until Roland Cook entered the room. “Hello, gentlemen,” he said as he sat in the other armchair. Without wasting a second he asked, “What do we need to discuss?”

Arthur cautiously responded. “There are concerns about our recent publication of test trial results.”

“Meaning what?” Cook asked impatiently.

“The data doesn"t support what we published,” Marty offered. Anger flashed across Cook"s face as Marty added, “But if you read our latest public description of the results, you come away with the impression that the data from this larger study is consistent with our first study results and that"s not accurate. We actually state that we have conducted three separate trials, which implies that the published results come from all three studies. We found positive results for sixty-five percent in the initial two phases of the study, but in phase three only twelve percent showed improvement of any kind. That significant deviation is not shown in the results we published. So, it is misleading to the public.”

Cook shrugged. “This is just an anomaly. You need to go back over the data and figure out where the mistakes in your analysis can be found. We know that this is a good d**g, so we just need to determine how you got to an erroneous result.”

Arthur Underwood nodded and replied diplomatically, “We can reassess the data, but it seems that there are problems. If the data shows improvement to twelve percent, then it seems to me that we can"t publish reports showing significant improvements to sixty-five percent of participants.” Gauging the thinly veiled anger on Cook"s face, Marty realized Art was pushing information that Cook didn"t want to hear. He glanced over at Justin, who wore a stunned expression.

Cook checked his watch and stood. “We had positive results for sixty-five percent of the previous phases, so this product is the real deal. Let"s get the final numbers corrected to assure we are properly representing the product.” The three visitors nodded acknowledgment and searched for words to convince him that the results were not what he was prepared to publish. Cook didn"t wait for anything further. “I have to get on to my next meeting gentlemen. Thanks for coming by.” He offered his hand and they all shook before leaving the office trying to digest what had just happened.

As they left the executive offices for their own three stories below, Arthur said, “Did you get the message?”

Marty nodded. “Yeah, loud and clear.”

Justin added, “I"m still in shock. He doesn"t appear to be open to making any corrections to the data we are publishing.”

“Hopefully, he will get there,” Art offered. “When all the data has been reaffirmed, he will have to acknowledge the results. He just doesn"t want to let any air out of the balloon any sooner than necessary because this is a massive money maker. The stock keeps rising with the anticipation.”

“Right,” Marty replied, “but if the results don"t support the projections, the balloon will lose a lot of air in a big hurry. I mean, when the accuracy of what we are saying is confirmed, isn"t the bottom going to fall out of the stock price anyway?”

“I think so,” Art offered. “But he won"t let it happen any sooner than necessary. I have to run guys, so let"s talk again tomorrow.”

After they said goodbye and Art disappeared from view, Justin turned to Marty and asked, “So we are we artificially inflating the stock price? Between now and the time we report the real results, there will be temptation for some to dump their stock before the market catches on; we are creating a situation that invites insider trading if people inside the company know the bottom will fall out and their stock value will be badly damaged.”

“That"s one more problem,” Marty said. “The biggest concern is having patients buy into this therapy in large numbers if the results aren"t there. People with cancer desperately need hope. How can we pretend to provide that hope based on inflated positive numbers?”

Justin stopped in his tracks. Marty looked at him and asked, “What?”

“Do you think there is a chance that the company has already provided false data to the Center for d**g Evaluation and Research to get them to make favorable reports to the FDA?”

Marty was quiet as the two shared expressions of worry, because it crossed a line when you provided data known to be inaccurate to the FDA"s watchdog. “The FDA has us on a fast track program because of the importance of this d**g, so we"ll know for sure in just a few weeks, when the data comes back to us after their review,” Marty offered.

Justin drew a breath and said, “Should we wait that long? I mean by then all of this is a long way down the road and…” He let his words trail off.

Marty was quiet for a moment and then said, “I can"t help but feel like we are watching something bad unfold in real time. I don"t know about you, but I don"t want some Congressional inquiry two years from now asking me whether I saw it coming and never spoke out.”

“I don"t want that either,” Justin said. He reflected a moment and then said, “We better think hard, because if we take a stand, we will be risking our careers. The choice between honesty and corporate loyalty will have some serious fallout for us.”

“You think that Cook might fire us rather than correcting the data?”

Justin looked at him with wide eyes. “Not if we can convince him that we need to address the problem for the good of the company. But if he thinks we are undermining him, it comes out differently.”

* * *

Marty Cardenas walked into Arthur Underwood"s office and sat down in one of the two visitor chairs without saying a word. “Did Mr. Cook agree to meet with us again to discuss the trial results?”

Arthur looked up from his reading and said, “No. I asked him to schedule a meeting for you, me and Justin. He said that wouldn"t be necessary and that I should come up right then and he and I would discuss whatever was on our collective minds.”

“And?”

Art"s expression was downcast. “I went up to see him and made the pitch, but nothing changed. He told me that he believes in the product and I need to believe in it as well. I replied that I think the product isn"t what he believes it is yet. I reminded him that the data from our biggest and most significant trial does not support the statements in the public that sixty-five percent of participants saw extremely positive results.”

Marty nodded. “What did he say to that?”

“He said that this is a good product and we will be able to prove it. He said we can"t be distracted by an aberration that won"t matter in the big picture. I resisted, telling him that the data provided cautions we needed to explore.” Art shook his head. “He gave me a look that said he had heard enough. Then he told me that this was a matter of loyalty, and that I needed to be on the right side of history.”

“It"s now a breach of loyalty to raise concerns about the data?”

“It would seem so,” Art replied, shaking his head. “All of this is pretty uncomfortable.”

“This is more than uncomfortable, Art. The company is misrepresenting the results of the study and when the d**g becomes available, those misrepresentations can kill people. The accuracy of our data has been confirmed and we now know that Mr. Cook has no plan to fix the misrepresentations in the public pronouncements about the success of the trials.” He studied Art"s worried expression for a moment and then said, “Look, I know that the money is flowing in and the stock is going through the roof, but it"s just not right.”

“What do you want me to say, Marty?”

Marty frowned. “I want you to say that it"s wrong and that we can"t sit around and let this happen.”

Art leaned back in his chair and looked at Marty. “What are you proposing?”

“Let"s go talk to a lawyer and see what we should do. We can keep it confidential and get some advice.”

“You know how well that goes over with the company if word gets out?”

“Word doesn"t get out. It"s a conversation protected by the attorney-client privilege even if it never goes anywhere.”

Art looked worried. “I don"t know.”

Marty was trying to suppress frustration as he said, “Justin and I are going to consult with an employment lawyer. At least we can learn our rights if we come forward with complaints to the FDA, or the press, or somebody.” He paused a moment and added, “We"d really like you to go with us and be part of this. I know you share our reservations about what"s happening.”

Art leaned back in his chair and replied, “I"ll go with you, but I"m not sure that I will take any action beyond that first conversation.”

“Fair enough. I don"t know that we will either. Let"s just figure out what the possibilities are and what protections we have.”

“You want to set it up?”

“A week from today at 6:00 p.m. It"s all set.”

“Who"s the lawyer?”

“Scott Winslow.”

He nodded. “I"ve heard the name somewhere.”

“He got some good verdicts in employee rights cases.”

“All right. I"ll go along, but just to listen. I am not committing to doing anything else,” Art replied, grudgingly. “Now get out of here and let me get back to work.”

“I appreciate having you involved, Art. I get really upset about what"s going on here, so I need a voice of reasonable restraint.”

“Okay, but like I said, how involved I"ll be is yet to be decided. Don"t assume that I am in for anything more than the meeting with the lawyer.”

* * *

Art Underwood, Marty Cardenas and Justin Palmer sat in Scott Winslow"s tenth floor conference room at 6:05 p.m., with cups of coffee on the table in front of them. The floor to ceiling window that formed one wall of the room looked down onto a crowded Lake Avenue in Pasadena — occupants of cars ready to be home fought against red lights, and pedestrians moving in every direction.

Scott Winslow and Donna Robbins walked into the room and extended a hand to the waiting visitors. The three executives stood to greet them.