A pragmatic approach to criminal law.
…because it appears that some attorneys have to learn cross examination on youtube.
Believe it or not, many attorneys skipped the trial skills in law school, scoffed at the entry-level jobs after law school (the low paying jobs that stressed time in court, anyway), and now they’re watching youtube to get ready for your speeding trial. Think I’m joking? That video has over 65,000 views.
Ah, Blago. I thought you were already in prison. Unfortunately it appears that you are not. From what I am reading, though, it looks like you’re going to be all over the news again this week. It seems you have to get the last word in (or, the last word before you’re really not going to be able to get any words in, anyway). I hope they are good.
Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure I know what you’re going to say. You haven’t said anything new in years. It was all a big conspiracy to get you out of the way so they could raise taxes. You told us! Such a shame considering you were such a tax cutting machine when you were in office. I mean, you may have avoided large tax increases on paper, but anybody who received a traffic ticket after you were elected saw how you dipped into their pockets. Some people don’t think traffic court should really be looked at as a way to raise revenue for pet projects… thankfully you weren’t one of them.
Anyhow, Rodlicious, we both have a lot in common. Aside from the fact that I didn’t get a hair cut from October until February (causing more than a few Blago Hair days), I’ve also been thinking about what you should say prior to disappearing (hopefully) from the public eye.
The problem is that I can’t come up with anything. I’m putting myself in your shoes and trying to think what some tv-watching guy like me might want to hear out of your mouth just before you went to prison. I’m thinking that the fact that I can’t think of anything is a sign. It’s a sign that you probably won’t be able to say anything that’s worth my mental energy to hear.
I’ve got an idea, Rod. If you don’t say anything before heading into prison, I won’t say anything about you while you’re there. Deal? Sounds fair to me. It won’t be easy for me to completely forget you (again), but I think I’m man enough to do it. If your “last words” prior to getting caged up are some more of your political babble, that may just be how I remember you. You don’t want that, Rod. See, now, when your name comes up, my memory is forced to playback your election against Jim Ryan. More notably, the most prevalent memory I have of you is Cal Skinner running all over the state with a two headed chicken named “JimRod” taunting both you and Jim Ryan. That is good stuff, Rod. Why would you want to tarnish that memory?
Anyhow, Mr. Blago, I know you’re not going to listen to me. I just wanted to share my feelings with you while you were a free man. Once you get locked up I could only share my feelings by sending you a letter, and I’m not about to waste the cost of a stamp on you.
Remember my hypothetical speeding trial? Where I walked you though a few of the questions you might expect to hear from a seasoned traffic prosecutor? I joked that I knew what the cops were going to say, because I had “the magic.”
I brought that up in explaining the type of thing you could consider saying when the lawman pulled you over. See, if he asks whether or not you know why he pulled you over and you tell him that you were “speeding” he will call that an “admission.” I’m not a fan of admissions. I just came across a police officer’s take on what to tell the cop who pulled you over. Guess what he says?
When asked if you know why the police pulled you over, he says to just say “no.” Crazy how that works. Maybe criminal defense attorneys and the police aren’t so different?
That’s what I thought, anyway, until I got to the part about asking the officer to cut you some slack and let it slide. I’d personally probably rather take the ticket than beg for a favor. I’m not saying you have to be that stubborn. I’m just saying that I am.
In God we trust… all others are suspects.
How do you know you need to call some guy like me? Sounds simple enough, right? If you’ve ever asked the question (even quietly in your own head), that’s a good thing. If you’re operating under the assumption that you’ll never need the advice of a criminal defense attorney, you might want to check that.
It’s not just the “accused” who could benefit from my advice. I’ve also represented witnesses and even people that aren’t related to a crime in any way. You’d think witnesses not involved in crimes would have nothing to worry about. Some (certainly not all) of those trained police investigators have a knack for making anybody they talk to uncomfortable, though. All I’m saying is that somebody once coined the phrase, “In God we trust… all others are considered suspects” and it wasn’t a guy like me.
I know that there’s a line of thinking that calling an attorney makes you look guilty. I’ve talked a little bit before about how refusing to submit to whatever the police want will make you look guilty. If you’re so caught up in not “looking” guilty to the police, then you can probably stop reading. I’m more worried about looking guilty to a judge or jury. The police can think what they want… they probably already do.
Easy enough for me to say, right? I’m on the “giving” end of the advice, not on the “is it panic time… feels like panic time… what do I do now?” end of things. I’ve actually been on both, though. I guess you could paraphrase Cy Sperling’s famous “Hair Club for Men” commercials, and say I’m not only a criminal defense lawyer- I’m also a client.
Now you’re curious about my arrest, right? Sadly (or not), I was never arrested. In January of 2007, however, I stepped out of the office for lunch. I returned no more than 30 minutes later. When I did, the office building was up in smoke and the fire department was busting through the windows.
Turns out that the building caught a case of the burndown while I was eating. Obviously the police came to ask questions. Nothing major- the building had been having serious electrical problems and there was an electrician there the day before. The fire was in the basement where the electrical stuff was housed.
I told them where I was. Then the fire marshal showed up. He asked some questions. I won’t bore you with the details, but in the hours that subsequently passed, more investigators showed up (including the ATF and their super-sniffing dog). At this point, the questioning starts getting a little more intense, they’re not letting us see what they’re removing from the building, and they’re starting to ask a lot of the same stuff over and over. I don’t have much patience for that- neither did the attorney I worked with at the time. So we basically told them we were done with the questions. Then I called a couple of criminal defense attorneys I know.
Did I burn down the building? Absolutely not. I was stuffing my face at Quiznos at the time. Did I look guilty calling a lawyer? I don’t care. I did care about knowing I had good, objective advice if I needed it. I share this little anecdote only to demonstrate that there are a couple of sure-fire ways to tell if you should call a criminal defense lawyer. Whether or not you are guilty doesn’t make a difference.
The following are not all of the signs- far from it, actually. They are simply three of the largest “red flags”. If you see any of them, you should be contacting an attorney right away.
Without further interruption here are three of the biggest signs that you need a criminal defense lawyer:
You’ve been talking to the police (which, really, means you haven’t been reading up on things). Now they’re asking you to come to the police station and talk to them there. They’ll even give you a ride in the back of their squad car. They might even tell you that you’re not under arrest. Why not, right? What could it hurt?
The reality is that they’re taking you there because it’s a much more controlled environment. Police “interview” rooms and process are not only controlled, they’re the subject of countless hours and years of psychological research. I can already tell you what that room is going to look like. Watch police interrogations on youtube, and look at the lack of variety in the way the rooms are setup. Think that’s an accident?
They want you in their controlled world because they’re not getting something out of you that they think they already should have– even if you are not the suspect. They are suspicious of what you are saying. You have an absolute right to have an attorney present for advice when they speak to you. More importantly, you have a right to that advice before you even walk in. If they want to talk to you at the station, call an attorney. Don’t think about it, just do it.
Despite how TV makes it look, the police do not have to read you the Miranda rights whenever they talk to you. They only have to read them in certain circumstances and, generally, don’t want to read them to you if they don’t have to. Logically, then, if they are reading it is because they think it is required by law.
When the man with the badge and the gun is telling you that you can call somebody to give you advice on how to deal with the man who has the badge and the gun, think it might make sense to take his suggestion? I’m not going to get to technical, but it’s safe to assume that if the police feel the need to read you your rights, you should feel the need to call an attorney. Immediately. And, you need to tell them that as directly and unequivocally as possible. Can it get any more clear cut then when the police are talking to you about criminal defense attorneys? I’d like to say not but, in reality, the vast majority of people (guilty or otherwise) talk to the police.
Oddly enough, this seems to be one of the times people most fear what the police will “think” if they ask for a lawyer. As simple as it looks on paper, this is probably the most ignored suggestion in all of criminal law. All I can do is throw it out there. Ignore it if you want.
I can’t give you an absolute idea of what “weird” is other than to to tell you to trust your gut. If something a police officer said does not sit well, or a question he asked seemed out of the ordinary, it’s best to talk it over with a lawyer. This could happen at any stage of a police officer’s investigation, and in any investigation (big or small). Stopped for speeding and he asks if you “have anything you shouldn’t” in the car? That’s odd, isn’t it?
If you want to be a legal Jedi, you’re going to have to learn to use the force.
This is exactly what happened the day of our fire. The tone of the investigation went from “this is electrical, we will be out of here soon” to “where was so-and-so” or “why isn’t the secretary here… is she usually here now?” Despite my best Jedi mind-trick (“this isn’t the burned building you’re looking for”) my gut told me that the law enforcement mob out there that day was getting testy. So, I called my guys. When your gut tells you the same, don’t fight it. Embrace the force and call a lawyer.
Like I said above, these three signs are far from exhaustive. If you see any of them, though, your thoughts shouldn’t be on whether to call a criminal defense lawyer but on which one to call. For that, I can’t help you.
Can anybody tell me why the police are a little bit edgy about cameras popping up everywhere? That’s what the American Bar Association is saying… it’s a pretty interesting read. This might come as a surprise to the 99.92343% who are not experienced, bitter, and cranky criminal defense attorneys, but it’s not us who oppose recording police-citizen interactions. It’s them.
There’s a been a trend to mandate that “confessions” be recorded in certain circumstances. Of course it’s been opposed. Not by us, though. Why is that? You would think having all of these “blatantly guilty” people on video would make our jobs harder, right? Maybe… if that’s what the videos showed.
I was talking this over with a couple other lawyers last week. I’m all for video recording everything that happens between the police and non-police. And, by that I mean that I want the cameras rolling from the minute a suspect/witness/interviewee walks into a police station to the time he is released or taken to jail. Seems simple enough.
Even when police video a confession, they don’t do it like you’d think. They may have somebody in custody for hours. They may be interrogating him for hours. Once they know what the person is going to say, then they turn on the cameras. What is there to hide? Shouldn’t we be able to see what the government is doing? There are no secrets in a police interrogation… are there? There are no secrets at trial, why should there be any in an interrogation?
If traffic stops can be recorded in their entirety, there’s no reason interviews can’t… except that the police don’t want the cameras on. That’s all I’m saying.