Located around the corner from the Executive suite, Mitch Huddleston's office offered an impressive view. A framed University of Virginia law degree hung in one corner. A picture of a smiling blond wife and two children encased in sterling silver sat tastefully to one side on the massive desk. The impression of book-lined walls and leather upholstery was overwhelming and Will couldn't help but speculate what Susan would do with an office like this. Though given her current bent towards store-front legal consultations in poor neighborhoods, he figured it would be a while.

Huddleston was unexpectedly forthcoming. "Look, Brubaker, your design will no doubt be useful for training purposes but there is another element involved that you should be aware of. My principal job with this organization involves risk management--limiting liability. Currently there is a pending lawsuit - it's really a nuisance case but Chicago is putting the pressure on us to plug up all the holes. A patient, Patricia Richardson, died as a result of injuries incurred in an accident out on I-14 several weeks ago. Perhaps you remember. It was a real mess. Several cars got mangled when a tractor trailer overturned.

Will did remember.

"Anyway, Huddleston went on, "the dead patient's family was sucked in by this sleazeball ambulance chaser Harvey Clarence and now they are charging the hospital with negligence. There's a possible connection to the blood analyzer robot. One of the blood gas tests had to be repeated because the lab technologist couldn't approve the first one. That legal eagle Clarence has convinced the family that the length of time it took to run the second test was causal in Mrs. Richardson's death. This is nonsense, but naturally the robot developers are fit to be tied. So, we're counting on you to make sure that the personnel are receiving proper training and that our procedures are being followed. The patient files are confidential but you can take a look at the rest of my file."

He handed Will a thick file: