that was now the subject of an unprecedented and, for her, utterly impossible recall.
A S OF PRESS TIME, after vehemently professing their innocence for two years, Michael Mastromarino, Lee Cruceta, several New York City funeral directors and several cutters were either in the process of accepting or already had accepted deals to plead guilty to the charges they faced in both New York City and Philadelphia. They are expected to testify against the remaining defendants, including the Garzone brothers and McCafferty, who have pleaded not guilty in Philadelphia court and are scheduled to stand trial later this year. The defense is expected to argue that these defendants did none of the actual harvesting and therefore cannot be held accountable, though the spate of plea agreements by their co-defendants obviously bodes poorly for them. In addition,Mastromarino, having just been sentenced to 18 to 54 years in prison, will likely cooperate in implicating the tissue companies that bought from him. Those companies—which generate multimillion-dollar profits annually and are publicly traded—have claimed they had no way of knowing the documents Mastromarino prepared were fabricated, and no way of knowing the true source of the materials they received.
Then there are the civil lawsuits. Philadelphia attorney Larry Cohan has been named by the U.S. District Court in Newark, New Jersey, as lead counsel in a class-action lawsuit against all of the defendants in the criminal case as well as the tissue companies, representing so far 900 people nationwide, including Betty Pfaff, who received some of the 20,000 pieces of stolen tissue. In addition, along with his partner Melissa Hague, Cohan is representing 15 families of the unwitting donors in their suits in Philadelphia court, including the Oprea family.
The cases are, however, by no means surefire. In the first place, there seems to be little money to be wrung from many of the defendants, including Mastromarino, who’s paid for legal representation in several jurisdictions, and the funeral home operators, whose insurers have maintained that their policies don’t cover subscribers’ criminal conduct. That leaves the tissue companies that distributed Mastromarino’s stolen goods, especially Regeneration Technologies Inc., recently renamed RTI Biologies, the first-stop processing company in Florida through which all of Mastromarino’s body parts flowed.
Cohan and Hague argue that it’s impossible RTI didn’t know what Mastromarino was up to. Parroting the prosecutors’ argument, they say the paperwork—including the death certificates—forwarded to the company were almost transparently fraudulent. The numbers themselves coming out of Mastromarino’s company, they say, should have raised red flags. “Normally, one particular harvesting company might get just a minimal number of donors, say one a month or maybe two or three,” says Hague. “Mastromarino was getting 10 or 30 a month. He was RTI’s primary supplier for human tissue implants, and they never questioned him about it. There’s no way they couldn’t have known.”
Still, RTI—which recently announced record revenues of $94.2 million for 2007—and the other tissue companies are preparing an aggressive defense, challenging the idea that those who’ve developed serious diseases contracted them from the transplanted materials, given the claimed sophistication of the companies’ sterilization processes.
Bob Rigney, CEO of the American Association of Tissue Banks, puts great stock in RTI’s “BioCleanse” low-temperature chemical sterilization process; RTI claims to have distributed more than 500,000 BioCleansed implants “with zero incidence of infection.” Rigney says furthermore that the risk of spreading infection or disease from transplanted tissue, even in cases when the tissue has not been treated as such, is exceedingly low. “Quite frankly, the safety record in terms of tissue is remarkable,”