SKIN TIGHT by Carl Hiaasen

Kipper Garth waited for the moment of tension to pass. It didn’t. He motioned toward the walnut credenza behind his desk. “See all those files, Mr. Nordstrom? Patients of Dr. Rudy Graveline. Most of them have suffered more than you and your wife. Much more.”

Nordstrom said, “So what’s your point?”

“The point is, Mr. Nordstrom, a monster is loose. Graveline is still in business. On a good day his clinic takes in a hundred grand in surgical fees. One hundred grand! And every patient walks in there thinking that Dr. Graveline is one brilliant surgeon, and some of them find out the hard way that he’s not. He’s a putz.”

Mrs. Nordstrom said: “You don’t have to tell us.”

Kipper Garth leaned forward and, ministerially, folded his hands. “For me, this case isn’t about money.” He sounded so damn earnest that he almost believed himself. “It isn’t about money, it’s about morality. And conscience. And concern for one’s fellow man. I don’t know about you folks, but my stomach chums when I think how a beast like Rudolph Graveline is allowed to continue to destroy the lives of innocent, trusting people.” Kipper Garth swiveled his chair slowly and gestured again at the stacks of files. “Look at all these victims—men and women just like yourselves. And to think that the state of Florida has done nothing to stop this beast. It makes me nauseous.”

“Me, too,” said Mrs. Nordstrom.

“My mission,” continued Kipper Garth, “is to find someone with the courage to go after this man. Shut him down. Bring to light his incompetence so that no one else will have to suffer. The place to do that is the courtroom.”

John Nordstrom sniffed. “Don’t tell me the sonofabitch’s never been sued before.”

Kipper Garth smiled. “Oh yes. Yes, indeed, Dr. Graveline has been sued before. But he’s always escaped the glare of publicity and the scrutiny of his peers. How? By settling the cases out of court. He buys his way out, never goes to trial. This time he won’t get off so lightly, Mr. Nordstrom. This time, with your permission, I want to take him to the wall. I want to go all the way. I’m talking about a trial.”

It was a damn mellifluous speech for a man accustomed to bellowing at a speaker box. If not moved, the Nordstroms were at least impressed. A self-satisfied Kipper Garth wondered if he could ever be so smooth in front of a jury.

Marie Nordstrom said: “In person you look much younger than on your billboards.”

The lawyer acknowledged the remark with a slight bow.

Mrs. Nordstrom nudged her husband. “Go ahead, tell him what happened.”

“It’s all in the file,” John Nordstrom said.

“I’d like to hear it again,” Kipper Garth said, “in your own words.” He pressed a button on the telephone console, and a stenographer with a portable machine entered the office. She was followed by a somber-looking paralegal wielding a long yellow pad. Mutely they took positions on either side of Kipper Garth. Nordstrom scanned the trio warily.

His wife said: “It’s a little embarrassing for us, that’s all.”

“I understand,” Kipper Garth said. “We’ll take our time.”

Nordstrom shot a narrow look at his wife. “You start,” he said.

Calmly she straightened in the chair and cleared her throat. “Two years ago, I went to Dr. Graveline for a routine breast augmentation. He came highly recommended.”

“Your manicurist,” John Nordstrom interjected, “a real expert.”

Kipper Garth raised a tanned hand. “Please.”

Marie Nordstrom continued: “I insisted that Dr. Graveline himself do the surgery. Looking back on it, I would’ve been better off with one of the other fellows at the clinic—anyway, the surgery was performed on a Thursday. Within a week it was obvious that something was very wrong.”

Kipper Garth said, “How did you know?”

“Well, the new breasts were quite … hard.”

“Try concrete,” John Nordstrom said.

His wife went on: “They were extremely round and tight. Too tight. I mean, they didn’t even bounce.”

A true professional, Kipper Garth never let his eyes wander below Mrs. Nordstrom’s neckline.

She said: “When I saw Dr. Graveline again, he assured me that this was normal for cases like mine. He had a name for it and everything.”

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