The layout of the new Federal Courthouse building didn’t lend itself very well to a quick private conference. Crawley and his entourage could leave the Special Proceedings Courtroom, go down the stairs and across the atrium to the public elevators, and then up to another floor to find an empty office to meet, but that in itself would probably take 15 minutes, even if they could succeed in getting past the media on the way. The only real alternative was the cafeteria right there on the second floor, which wouldn’t be private, or the fitness center next to the prisoner cellblock. Crawley chose the latter.
When everyone had crowded in around the free weights and exercise machines, Crawley motions for an aide to close the door. The defense team is obviously coming apart, and sides are being taken. There’s a small group of lawyers in one corner expressing their disagreements with Crawley to each other, while three of his younger team try to come to his defense. Dr. Gallo, seemingly as smug as ever, sits on one of the chest-press benches and waits. Finally, Crawley gets everyone to quiet down.
“All right. We haven’t got much time. Here it is in a nutshell. We can stipulate that AZT causes AIDS...”
Mr. Gladstone, the lawyer from Burroughs Wellcome/GlaxoSmithKline, jumps up, visibly upset. “That's handing them the case on a silver platter!”
Crawley ignores the interruption. “…or we can sit on our hands and watch as he pounds the jury with witness after witness.”
Mr. Fogerty, representing the FDA, finally verbalizes what everyone else in the room is thinking, without making it sound like he’s attacking Crawley.
“Isn't there some way to stop this?”
Crawley has wondered the same thing. He felt like he started something, like a runaway train, that he didn’t know how to stop.
“I can't think of any legal way at the moment. If we had more time...”
“Or a different leader!” The quiet voice comes from somewhere in the group, but no one knows exactly who had said it. Or if they did, they weren’t saying.
Now on the defensive, Crawley lets his own frustrations out and tries to shift the blame to where it really belongs. “I'm afraid that we all listened to Dr. Gallo for too long in the beginning of this case, apparently like the whole country may have listened to him for too long about HIV!”
Virtually all the lawyers in the room look at each other in amazement as Crawley admits that he himself no longer believes Gallo’s version of AIDS – currently being called the ‘HIV hypothesis’ by the media. Of course, that shouldn’t matter to anyone or affect Gallo’s defense, but it was still somewhat of a shocker to hear it spoken aloud. What might Crawley say next?
“There's no question we're in big trouble...”
...which brings a number of side comments, like “That’s an understatement,” and “Glad he finally figured that out.”
Crawley knows he has to do something quickly, just to keep his own team together.
“All right, calm down. We just need to buy some time to regroup. I need to figure out a way to postpone this case for a while, let the jury forget a lot of stuff, and give us a chance to start over with a fairly clean slate. And this time we’ll put on a real defense. But right now I need a vote from everyone. Do we stipulate that AZT causes AIDS, or do we walk the plank with Messick’s witnesses?”