A Blizzard of Reasons to Hire a Criminal Defense Attorney

Alex was quietly called in to our state’s major crime investigation unit for an interview. Alex had a law degree, passed the bar, but had never practiced. Yet, as he had taken criminal law in law school, he felt perfectly comfortable waking in alone to ‘chat’ with investigators who had no evidence whatever. No knife, no forensics, no gloves (it was a bitterly cold night), no witnesses, no neighborhood cameras. Nothing – except an ex-husband and a contentious divorce.

Whatever he said did not satisfy the detectives. His ‘visit’ was leaked to the press. He was summoned back. That too was leaked to the press – undoubtedly to put pressure on a suspect.

When Alex went back several days later, there were reporters waiting outside the cavernous state office building. This time Alex brought a lawyer - his friend who did the couple’s business and estate planning until the divorce. On the way in, they brushed by the reporters without a word.

According to the papers they were interviewed for at least three hours. When they left, they brushed past – pushed may be a better verb - reporters again without a word. A day or two later the led detective – responding to a question about the case – said that Alex was not a suspect. At present. That was at the end of the stories, deep down, the place few people read.

The case remained unsolved for the next four years. It was resurrected every so often as a baffling cold case, sometimes Alex was mentioned as ‘not a suspect at this time,’ sometimes he was left hanging.

In February 2017, I lived one town over from our friend’s home - a fifteen, twenty-minute drive away, almost all on back roads. A blizzard moved in just before dawn, travel bans were issued for the entire state. It was really whipping by 9 am – when I realized my wife and high school aged son were sick. We lived – if I cut through trails in the woods – just under a mile from a grocery store.

I needed to get there and buy out the medicine aisle.

I tromped through the storm and the woods to the store. They had three people working (it’s a very big store), all of whom, I was quickly told, lived nearby and had been picked up by the manager in his plow truck.

I grabbed a ton of medicines, milk (I think it’s a law that you have to buy milk during a blizzard), went up to the only lane open to pay . . . and there was a half-full basket on the conveyor belt. I chatted with the cashier – a friend of my ailing son – while we waited for the one other shopper that morning to grab whatever they had forgotten way in the back of the store.

It took a while but then down the aisle, arms full of stuff, came Alex.

A hesitation from both of us before we shook hands and talked a bit before he checked out. Talked about our kids, mostly. Asked each other how it went. His answer, “It’s been a really bad few years, but what are you going to do?”

He left, never looked back, and basically jogged to the doors. I pushed my stuff into my backpack, zipped up tight and stepped out into a full-scale white-out. There was one car in the parking lot with its lights on. A Jeep under a light having a hard time in the above-the-ankle deep and growing snow moving in a straight line. I could just make out Alex in the driver’s seat

And then it hit me. Hard. There were five grocery stores with 2 miles of Alex’s house. There was a travel ban. There was, as expected, a white-out. Alex was shopping one town over because he was avoiding public places near his house. Because for anyone who didn’t read fifteen paragraphs in, Alex probably had something to do with his ex-wife’s death.

A year later a man walked into a state police barracks and said his local pastor had urged him to come forward and confess: he killed our friend in an impulsive, completely random act. He led the major crime unit to the place where he had hidden the knife and his bloody gloves. He’s awaiting trial in a psychiatric hospital.

Three months later, I was coming home late from a business meeting and had to stop for something or other just before that store closed at 10 pm. Half the lights in the store were already off; the produce was being packed up. and there was Alex with a full cart, headed to the lone register still opened. I raised my hand in hello, he either didn’t see me or chose not to. There is a new super-grocery store open until midnight within throwing distance of his house.”

I was really struck by this story. Moved, actually. Alex is living in purgatory – has been for years - and it was probably completely unnecessary. Law degree or no law degree, no one should agree to be interviewed without a criminal attorney present.

Yes, I know, I’ve heard it a hundred times, “But I have nothing to hide.” That may be true but the investigators ‘have everything to find.’

Most importantly, Alex didn’t have an advocate. No one to stand up for him. To let the detectives and world know he had nothing to do with the tragic, horrible death of his ex-wife, mother of his children.

A strong, experienced, aggressive criminal law attorney – like me – would have greatly benefitted Alex. The major crime unit and the public would have, clearly, strongly, known he was not a suspect much – much – earlier. He most likely would never have had to go back for that publicly damning second interview. He most certainly would not have ‘blown by’ the assembled media. There’s a very solid chance he wouldn’t have been reduced to shopping miles away from his house in the middle of a blizzard or the dead of night.

The moral of the story is if you think you may in any way be the subject of a criminal investigation, call us. The earlier the better.