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makes surgical products, right?” She wanted to let John know she’d done her research on LMB’s clients before she joined. She may be the protégée of a lion whose supremacy was on the wane, but right now he was the only partner who was willing to back her. She’d do her best for him. And hope that neither of them got gored by the bull in the process.
    His lips curved in a small smile, acknowledging her efforts. “Correct. They are based in Toronto, but eighteen months ago they opened a plant—if you wish to call it that—in Halifax.”
    Kate nodded. “It was on the front page of the paper.”
    “It provided two hundred high-tech jobs, with the promise of more opportunities as their product lines develop.” John spoke like a proud father. He picked up the legal-size document with the pale blue triangle. “This is a statement of claim filed against TransTissue this morning.The plaintiff is a young man named Brad Gallivant, twenty-three years old, who claims he contracted hepatitis C from one of their products.”
    He handed the document to her. Kate skimmed it eagerly. According to the plaintiff, the defendant had negligently processed a tissue product that resulted in grievous personal injuries to him. “What exactly happened to Mr. Gallivant?”
    John drummed his fingers on his desk. “He had arthroscopic surgery on his knee. The orthopedic surgeon used a tissue filler product to plug a hole in the cartilage. Several months later he tested positive for hep C.”
    “So the plaintiff is accusing TransTissue of supplying an infected product?” Kate asked.
    “Yes.” John closed the folder. “Of course, our client vigorously maintains that their products are up to standard.”
    “It couldn’t be the filler, could it? Isn’t it inert matter?” She tapped her pen against her lip. The defense was already taking shape in her head. God, she’d missed the fun of crafting an argument that wasn’t an endless variation on custody support. “Wouldn’t it be more likely that the disease was contracted either through a blood transfusion or from the plaintiff’s lifestyle?”
    “That’s what our client says. But it’s a little more complicated than that, Kate.” There was a hint of amusement in John’s eyes. “The products are not manufactured from inert matter.”
    Her mind raced. She knew she should know the answer to this. “Right. They make the products from live cells.” She weighed the implications for the defense: they’d have to fight accusations of substandard laboratory procedures, infection transmitted by lab technicians—
    “They don’t use live cells,” John said. “The tissue fillerproducts are made from—” a small smile curved his lips “—cadavers.”
    “Cadavers?” She stared at him. “They use dead tissue in surgical procedures?”
    It was clear John had enjoyed shocking her. He nodded. “Yes. It’s processed at TransTissue and then used in dental surgery, neurosurgical procedures and many orthopedic procedures. You know, hip replacements, ACL repairs, the list goes on.”
    “Ugh.” Kate grimaced. She’d be a lot more careful about her joints from now on. Time for new running shoes. “Where does it come from?” At John’s wry look, she added quickly, “I mean, where does TransTissue get the cadaveric tissue?”
    “There are suppliers who harvest the tissue from bodies. Kind of like organ donors. The harvested tissue is sent to TransTissue to make into surgical products.” His voice became thoughtful. “One body can go a long way to help a lot of people.” He walked around his desk and handed her the file. “Here. Have a look at these notes and tell me what you think about this claim.”
    Kate nodded, slipping the claim into the folder. John sat behind his desk and flipped open another file.
    She headed to the door. “When do you need it by?”
    He smiled. “They’re a top client. Have it ready for Monday.”

4
    D amn, damn and double damn.
    Kate jogged