'Personal Injuries'
by Scott Turow
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, $27
Scott Turow burst upon the courtroom-thriller scene in 1987 with his best-selling debut, "Presumed Innocent." His subsequent novels each reached for the same fluid writing, thought-provoking story lines and stunning twists of his opening gambit, but each fell short in its own way.
In his dazzling new book, "Personal Injuries," Turow returns to top form and demonstrates what makes him arguably the best courtroom novelist of our time.
"Personal Injuries" revolves around its central character, Robbie Feaver, the top personal-injury lawyer in Kindle County. Feaver, a flamboyant playboy, lavishly shows off his success with carefully tailored Italian suits, expensive sports cars and a richly appointed law office. His partner, Morton Dinnerstein, is brilliant at research and writing, but terrified of the courtroom. The two make a fearsome and winning combination, with Dinnerstein handling the law and Feaver generating the courtroom sizzle.
Feaver's wife, Rainey, suffers from Lou Gehrig's disease, a severe degenerative condition that has rendered her largely helpless and dependent on Feaver. Feaver, in turn, is dependent on the generous income from his successful practice to provide his wife with necessary and expensive technology. Caught in this bind, Feaver needs to win his cases to ensure a steady flow of cash, not only to shore up his ego but to care for his dying wife.
When the FBI discovers Feaver's secret bank account from which he makes payments to certain Kindle County judges in return for favorable rulings, Feaver is caught in an inescapable trap. To cooperate means treason to the bench and bar of Kindle County - with possibly life-threatening consequences. But to refuse is worse: betrayal of his promise to look after Rainey as she slides into total dependency.
Trapped, Feaver becomes the pawn of Stan Sennett, the powerfully ambitious U.S. attorney who is bent on clearing the bench of Kindle County of corrupt judges and complicit lawyers. Feaver is wired and sent to work cases involving fictional plaintiffs, paying off corrupt judges and courtroom staff for favorable results, generating explosive evidence in the process that is captured on video and audiotape for the investigating federal grand jury.
To guard against betrayal, Feaver is shadowed by an undercover FBI agent who goes by the alias of Evon Miller. She poses as his new paralegal and his supposed latest in a long line of sexual conquests. Miller is conflicted in her undercover role - uncertain of her own identity to begin with, she blends in easily in the office but develops a begrudging respect for Feaver as they grapple with the inevitable ups and downs as the investigation proceeds.
The primary target of the effort is not the lower-level courtroom staff involved in the corrupt activity, but the judges themselves. In the course of the undercover operation, Feavor tapes his dealings with Sherm Crowthers, a tall, domineering African-American judge intent on getting his share of the graft that's long been the entitlement of his white brethren; Barnett Skolnick, a dim-witted, bulbous judge awarded the job largely on account of his mob-connected brother ("Knuckles" Skolnick); and Silvio Malatesta, a bookish scholar corrupted by the system and preferring to imagine that it does not involve him. But the prosecution's main target is the corrupt and enormously powerful presiding judge, Brendan Tuohey. But Tuohey is at least as cagey as his pursuer, and his capture is no easy task.
One might be tempted to dismiss this tale of widespread judicial corruption as implausible, but the book is in fact based on Turow's own experience as a federal prosecutor in the famous "Operation Greylord" sting operation that resulted in the conviction of 15 Chicago judges, 49 lawyers and dozens of court personnel in the 1980s. Perhaps because of this real-life background, "Personal Injuries" features a rich texture, carefully drawn characters and a backstage pass to a fascinating sting operation in progress. But, never fear, this is no excuse for long-winded war stories. Rather, the book all but explodes down its plot line, hurling the reader along with it, until sometime - late in the night - the reader arrives at its denouement and is left staring at the ceiling, pondering the implications.
Turow's book aptly demonstrates that life doesn't always turn out the way one plans - whether in real life, or in undercover operations. As the final page turns, it is safe to say that no one involved in the effort gets entirely what he or she wanted, expected or deserved. No one, that is, except the reader.
