Play Dead by David Rosenfelt

cocktail.”
    Dr. King leaves, and I have to restrain myself from giving Kevin a high five. This is a very substantial development and, if accurate, puts a major dent in the prosecution case. Coupled with Reggie’s existence, it could well be enough to get us a hearing. Kevin agrees and sets out to write a brief to file with the court.
    My euphoria is short-lived, as Laurie shows up with Sergeant Allen Paulsen, one of the technology experts in the Paterson Police Department.
    She comes right to the point. “Allen found a tap on your phone.”
    He holds up a small, clear plastic bag with a device in it. “It looks new—no weather marks or anything. It could be a couple of weeks old, but based on what Laurie witnessed, my best guess is, it was installed this morning.”
    “Are you here to check the office phones?”
    He nods. “Right.”
    “That’s not all, Andy,” she says.
    I don’t like the way she said that. “It’s not?”
    She turns to Paulsen, inviting him to explain.
    He does, again holding up the device. “This device is state-of-the-art; I’ve never seen one like it. I would bet a month’s pay it’s government issue.”
    Oh, shit. “Local, state, or federal?” I ask, in descending order of preference.
    “Federal,” he says. “Definitely federal. Which agency, that I can’t tell you.”
    Paulsen goes off to check the office and, after about fifteen minutes, tells me that the place is clean. He gives me the name of a guy and tells me that I should hire him to sweep my home and office for taps and bugs at least twice a week.
    “They may not do it again,” he says. “Because now that we’ve removed the first tap, they’ll know you’re on to them.”
    Paulsen leaves Laurie, Kevin, and me to ponder what all this means. In the brief time that I’ve been Richard’s lawyer, I’ve been shot at by two hoods, one of whom was supposed to be dead, and had my phone tapped by a government agency.
    “And I don’t have a clue what the hell it’s all about.”
    “It’s all about somebody wanting Richard Evans to stay in jail,” Laurie says.
    I nod. “Or not wanting the case opened up. Kevin, as part of the brief you should include the attempt on my life, and the phone tap. Request that Richard be moved to a secure area of the prison, in solitary if necessary.”
    “You think he’s in danger?” Kevin asks.
    “If he’s dead there’s no case to open up,” Laurie points out.
    “On the other hand, then there would be no reason to kill his lawyers,” I say.
    I’m a glass-half-full kind of guy.

T HERE IS NOT a very high standard for getting a hearing.
    That’s the good news. The bad news is, the standard for prevailing in the hearing, for being granted a new trial, is quite high. The defense needs to show that the new evidence would do more than just create reasonable doubt; it must show that an injustice is likely being committed by keeping the accused incarcerated.
    Kevin’s brief is terrific, which is no surprise, since he is probably the best I have ever seen at preparing them. The question we face is whether we should submit it now, since a hearing is likely to be held quickly if granted. By submitting the brief we are saying that we are ready to proceed, when in reality we are not.
    Arguing for haste are the ominous things that have been happening to me, and the very real chance that Richard could be in jeopardy in prison. Without submitting the briefs, we have no chance to get him isolated, and therefore no way to get him out of grave danger.
    After weighing all the factors, we send Kevin down to submit it while I meet with Sam Willis in his office, which is just down the hall from mine, to get a report on his computer investigation of the victim, Stacy Harriman.
    I’m pleasantly surprised that he comes in all business, with no song or movie talking. He has her credit history, educational background, employment history, former addresses, birth certificate—the entire