New Tricks Read Online Free PDF Page B

got yourself a second dog.”
    While waiting for Steven to come back to the table, I find myself with a dilemma. He clearly has no idea what is about to
     hit him, and will be unprepared for it. Besides the emotional jolt, he will not have time to take care of any matters he might
     want to before going into custody.
    I would not be breaking any confidences by telling him about the impending arrest. Pete attached no such restrictions on it,
     and in any event I wouldn’t mention Pete. My instincts tell me that Steven was not involved in the murders, but my instincts
     have been known to be wrong on many occasions. For example, I’m positive the Knicks will win the NBA title every year.
    On the other hand, I could conceivably be exposing myself to some legal jeopardy by telling him. Were he to take flight to
     avoid arrest, I could be subject to an obstruction of justice charge. I’m confident I could beat it, but in the hands of a
     prosecutor who disliked me, it would be a major annoyance. And the percentage of prosecutors who dislike me hovers right around
     one hundred.
    I still haven’t decided what to do when Steven comes back with the pizza.
    I take a bite. “This really is good,” I say.
    End of discussion.

I CAN SEE THEM as we approach Steven’s apartment.
    There are at least half a dozen men standing and sitting in strategically positioned places within a hundred feet of the entrance
     to the building. To me they are so obvious that they might as well be singing the Miranda warning a cappella, but Steven has
     no idea what awaits him.
    I only walked back here because my car is parked along the way, but I decide to pass the car by and continue walking. I may
     not have prepared Steven for what is about to happen to him, but I’m not about to abandon him when it does.
    As we approach I see the men pretending to be carefree and moving aimlessly, but actually executing a pincer movement. Suddenly
     they close in, and their actions are so swift and stunning that they take me by surprise—and I knew exactly what was going
     to happen.
    One of the officers grabs Steven and turns him toward the building, while another moves me away so that I can’t physically
     intervene. Obviously, being New York cops, they don’t know me, so they are unaware that I am not a physical intervener. But
     I’m a hell of a verbal intervener.
    Steven is stunned and is muttering something unintelligible as the officer tells him that he is under arrest, and then quickly
     recites his rights to him. The officer concludes with, “Do you understand what I have just told you?”
    Steven does not answer; it’s possible he isn’t even aware that the man is speaking.
    “Do you understand what I have just told you?” the officer repeats.
    Finally Steven nods and says, “Yes… yes.”
    “Do you wish to speak with me now?” the officer asks.
    This time Steven doesn’t speak; he just turns to me. The look on his face is a desperate plea for help.
    “No, he does not wish to speak to you now,” I say.
    “Who are you?” the officer asks, looking at me for the first time.
    “I’m his attorney.”
    “Well, isn’t that a happy coincidence.”
    Steven is taken to the Manhattan County jail, where he is booked and fingerprinted. Before they leave, I instruct him not
     to talk to anyone at all, and I assure him that I will meet him down there.
    I do so, and while I am there I formally agree to waive extradition so that he can be transferred to New Jersey. Lieutenant
     Dennis Simmons of the New Jersey State Police expresses his appreciation for my cooperation, though we both know I had no
     choice. Refusing permission would have only delayed the process by a day or so, while Steven would have been sitting in a
     jail either way.
    By eight o’clock in the evening, Steven has been rebooked and is probably not very comfortably settled in the Passaic County
     jail. I know from having other clients recount their experiences what he is going