Chapter 48

I WAS HOPING there would be a whole phalanx of media spread across the front steps of the federal courthouse, but only the reporters that had been covering the trial showed up.

It was them plus one freelance videographer who had been around for twenty years.

I knew him simply as Sticks because he always had a collapsible tripod that he placed his camera on, even though handheld cameras with gyros were the way of the media world now.

Sticks might have been old-fashioned and unattached to a specific news channel, but he had solid connections to all the national cable outlets, and that made him the most important media rep in attendance.

The press conference had been delayed twice as I waited for the money to land in my client escrow account.

Wary of Wendt’s threat never to pay Brenda Randolph a dime, I would not stand in front of the media and announce the end of the case until the money had been safely delivered to me.

Once the wire transmission was confirmed, the media was alerted for a third time and we all gathered on the steps of the courthouse.

Bromley led things off.

“My name is Ellen Bromley. I am head of corporate communications for Wendt Technologies, parent company of Tidalwaiv Technologies LLC. We are here today in the matter of Randolph versus Tidalwaiv to announce a conclusion to this case in an equitable settlement for all parties. It is our deepest regret that these events occurred, that a young woman lost her life and a mother lost her only child. Mistakes were made and they have been and will continue to be corrected by the company. This has been a learning experience for the burgeoning industry of artificial intelligence. We must do better. We must do better to protect everyone, but particularly those who are most vulnerable: our children. We failed here and deeply apologize. And we apologize for all previous shortcomings in this groundbreaking work.”

I reached up and put my hand on Brenda Randolph’s shoulder.

She was holding a tissue to her eyes as she heard what she had long waited to hear.

Bromley’s statement had gone back and forth between all parties several times to be rewritten and edited.

It wasn’t the full-throated apology I wanted for my client; it was a corporatized mea culpa that tried to claim some sort of victory in failure.

But it did contain the one line I’d composed and insisted they include: We failed here and deeply apologize.

“The details of the settlement will remain private, as all parties have agreed,” Bromley continued. “But we will try to answer a few questions.”

The gathered media seemed not to have expected that offer. But I had insisted on it as part of the settlement. At first, no one barked out a question. There was an odd pause and then Sticks finally spoke up.

“You were in the middle of trial,” he said. “Why did you settle? Was it not looking good?”

Bromley glanced to her left at the Masons to see if one of them was willing to face the media and the question. Mitchell Mason reluctantly stepped forward.

“In every trial, you are evaluating where you stand every day,” he said.

“You weigh the risk of going on versus settling. We reached a point where we saw the risk as too high. We decided to settle. The case never went to the jury, so we will never know how a verdict would have gone. The defense never even presented its side.”

It sounded like Mitchell was having CSR—case settlement regret. But he had been the one who made the call to me to say no más the night before.

“Did Victor Wendt approve the deal?” Sticks asked.

“Uh, Mr. Wendt was part of the discussion that led to the settlement,” Mitchell said. “He was very involved in this case. He said from the beginning that if Tidalwaiv was wrong or had somewhere crossed a line, we must own up to it, learn from it, and move on. We are doing that.”

Yeah, right, I thought as I listened to Mitchell Mason try to cast his client in the glowing light of doing the right thing.

Sticks wasn’t finished. He fired one more question at Team Tidalwaiv.

“Is Nathan Whittaker still employed at Tidalwaiv after what was revealed in court yesterday?” he asked.

Bromley took this one, stepping forward and putting a hand on Mitchell’s arm before he could speak.

“We will review the testimony from the trial and take appropriate action where needed,” she said.

“Can we hear from Mrs. Randolph?” a woman from Channel 5 asked.

I whispered to Brenda, asked if she was up for media questions. She nodded and I guided her to the portable podium, where all the microphones were.

“I know you can’t reveal details, but are you happy with the settlement?” the reporter asked.

Brenda wiped her eyes once more and spoke.

“Happy is not really a word that I know anymore,” she said.

“I approved the settlement because it is an acknowledgment by Tidalwaiv of the mistakes made and a resolve to be safer with our technology and our children. To that end, I am announcing that I will be starting a foundation called the Rebecca Randolph Center for Technological Oversight. And the director of the center will be Jack McEvoy, who played a very significant part in this case.”

She turned and pointed down the line to Jack, who stood next to me. He gave an embarrassed nod.

“What will the foundation do?” a reporter asked.

“Its mission is to make sure that what happened to my daughter never happens to anyone else’s child,” Brenda said.

After a few more follow-up questions, the press conference ended and people started to scatter.

The Mason brothers walked away without a word to me.

Bromley stepped over to me to say that our business was now done, as the money had been paid and the requirement for the public statement had been met.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said.

“You too,” I said.

It was an odd exchange that left me puzzled. I walked over to Sticks to inquire about his plans for the video he had just recorded.

“My first stop is CNN,” he said. “Jake Tapper will love this.”

“Good,” I said. “I’ve been on with him before. I’m available if needed.”

“I’ll tell them. And thanks for shooting me the questions to ask. Getting Wendt in there definitely bumps this up a notch.”

“Thanks for asking them.”

I shook his hand, concealing the five folded hundred-dollar bills I put in his palm. I turned to join Brenda and Jack but was buttonholed by Pete Demetriou from KNX radio. I’d known him since I was a baby lawyer.

“Can I get a quick sound bite, Mick?” he asked.

“Sure, Pete,” I said. “Ask away.”

“I assume you’re getting a big payday?”

“I can’t discuss the terms of the settlement.”

“Is it fair to say that this is essentially a big win for you and your client?”

“My client is pleased, so that makes me pleased. But, you know, this was never about money. It was about holding Tidalwaiv to account for putting a faulty product into the hands of young people. It was about getting them to own what they’d done and apologize.

That’s what my client wanted first and foremost. It’s what we got, so she is ready to move on with her life and start the foundation. ”

“Thank you, Mick. What about you? I assume you are making out like a bandit. What’s next for you?”

“No comment, Pete. That’s all part of the settlement. If I tell you, I blow it, and the deal is gone.”

I left him there holding his microphone.

Jack and I walked Brenda to her car in the courthouse garage. She tearfully hugged and thanked us both, telling us that she’d stay in touch and promising the three of us would do good work together. She then drove away to her new life. She was wealthy beyond her dreams but as hollow as a drum.

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