"Have you seen this report?"
"No. As you might guess, it has been well concealed." Krigler paused and looked at the defense table. The bombshell was coming, and he was thoroughly enjoying the moment. "But I saw a memo-"
"Objection!" Cable shouted as he rose. "This witness cannot state what he may or may not have seen in a written document. The reasons are plentiful and are set out more fully in the brief we filed on this point."
The brief was eighty pages long and had been argued over for a month now. Judge Harkin had already ruled, in writing. "Your objection is noted, Mr. Cable. Mr. Krigler, you may continue."
"In the winter of 1973, I saw a one-page memo summarizing the nicotine study from the 1930s. The memo had been copied many times, was very old, and had been slightly altered."
"Altered in what way?"
"The date had been deleted, as had the name of the person sending it."
"To whom was it sent?"
"It was addressed to Sander S. Fraley, who at that time was the president of Allegheny Growers, the predecessor of a company now called ConPack."
"A tobacco company."
"Yes, basically. It calls itself a consumer products company, but the bulk of its business is manufacturing cigarettes."
"When did he serve as president?"
"From 1931 to 1942."
"Is it then safe to assume the memo was sent prior to 1942?"
"Yes. Mr. Fraley died in 1942."
"Where were you when you saw this memo?"
"At a Pynex facility in Richmond. When Pynex was still Union Tobacco, its corporate headquarters were in Richmond. In 1979, it changed its name and moved to New Jersey. But the buildings are still in use in Richmond, and that's where I worked until I left. Most of the company's old records are there, and a person I know showed me the memo."
"Who was this person?"
"He was a friend, and he's now dead. I promised him I'd never reveal his identity."
"Did you actually hold the memo?"
"Yes. In fact, I made a copy of it."
"And where is your copy?"
"It didn't last long. The day after I locked it in my desk drawer, I was called out of town on business. While I was out, someone went through my desk and removed a number of things, including my copy of the memo."
"Do you recall what the memo said?"
"I remember very well. Keep in mind, for a long time I'd been digging for some confirmation of what I suspected. Seeing the memo was an unforgettable moment."
"What did it say?"
"Three paragraphs, maybe four, brief and to the point. The writer explained that he had just read the nicotine report that was secretly shown to him by the head of research at Allegheny Growers, a person who went unnamed in the memo. In his opinion, the study proved conclusively and beyond any doubt that nicotine is addictive. As I recall, this was the gist of the first two paragraphs."
"And the next paragraph?"
"The writer suggested to Fraley that the company take a serious look at increasing the nicotine levels in its cigarettes. More nicotine meant more smokers, which meant more sales and more profits."
Krigler delivered his lines with a fine flair for the dramatic, and every ear soaked up his words. The jurors, for the first time in days, watched every move the witness made. The word "profits" floated over the courtroom and hung like a dirty fog.
John Riley Milton paused for a bit, then said, "Now, let's keep this straight. The memo was prepared by someone at another company, and sent to the president of that company, right?"
"That's correct."
"A company that was then and is now a competitor of Pynex?"
"That's correct."
"How did the memo find its way to Pynex in 1973?"
"I never found out. But Pynex certainly knew about the study. In fact, the entire tobacco industry knew about the study by the early 1970s, if not sooner."
"How do you know this?"
"I worked in the industry for thirty years, remember. And I spent my career in production. I talked to a lot of people, especially my counterparts at other companies. Let's just say that the tobacco companies at times can stick together."
"Did you ever attempt to obtain another copy of the memo from your friend?"
"I tried. It didn't work. Let's leave it at that."
EXCEPT for the usual fifteen-minute coffee break at ten-thirty, Krigler testified nonstop for the three-hour morning session. His testimony passed by as if it were only a matter of minutes, and was a crucial moment in the trial. The drama of an ex-employee spilling dirty secrets was played to perfection. The jurors even ignored their customary longings for lunch. The lawyers watched the jurors more closely than ever, and the Judge seemed to write down every word the witness said.
The reporters were unusually reverent; the jury consultants unusually attentive. The watchdogs from Wall Street counted the minutes until they could bolt from the room and make breathless phone calls to New York. The bored local lawyers hanging around the courtroom would talk about the testimony for years. Even Lou Dell stopped her knitting on the front row.
Fitch watched and listened from the viewing room next to his office. Krigler had been scheduled to testify early next week, and then there'd been the chance that he wouldn't testify at all. Fitch was one of the few people still alive who'd actually seen the memo, and Krigler had described it with amazing recollection. It was clear to everyone, even Fitch, that the witness was telling the truth.
One of Fitch's first assignments nine years ago when he'd first been hired by the Big Four was to track down every copy of the memo, and destroy each one. He was still working on it.
Neither Cable nor any defense lawyer retained by Fitch so far had seen the memo.
The admissibility of its existence in court had caused a small war. The rules of evidence normally prevent such verbal descriptions of lost documents, for obvious reasons. The best evidence is the document itself. But, as with every area of the law, there are exceptions and exceptions to the exceptions, and Rohr et al. had done a masterful job of convincing Judge Harkin that the jury should hear Krigler's description of what was, in effect, a lost document.
Cable's cross-examination that afternoon would be brutal, but the damage was done. Fitch skipped lunch and locked himself in his office.
IN THE JURY ROOM, the atmosphere over lunch was remarkably different. The ordinary drivel about football and recipes was replaced by a virtual silence. As a deliberative body, the jury had been lulled into stupor with two weeks of tedious scientific testimony from experts who were being paid large sums of money to travel to Biloxi and lecture. Now the jury had been shaken back to life with Krigler's sensational inside dirt.
They ate less and stared more. Most wanted to ease into another room with their favorite friend and replay what they'd just heard. Did they hear it right? Did everyone understand what the man just said? They intentionally kept nicotine high so people got hooked!
They managed to do just that. The smokers, only three now since Stella had departed, though Easter was a semi-smoker because he preferred to spend time with Jerry and Poodle and Angel Weese, ate quickly then excused themselves. They all sat on folding chairs, staring and puffing at the open window. With the weighted nicotine, the cigarettes felt a bit heavier. But when Nicholas said so, no one laughed.
Mrs. Gladys Card and Millie Dupree managed to leave for the rest room at the same moment. They took a long pee then spent fifteen minutes washing their hands and speaking to each other in front of the mirror. They were joined in mid-conversation by Loreen Duke, who leaned by the towel dispenser and quickly threw in her amazement and disgust with tobacco companies.