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“Officer Prasko, I am Chief Inspector Coughlin,” Coughlin said. “I am placing you under arrest for armed robbery and rape.”
“What?”
“Before we go any further, Officer Prasko, this is Mr. Armando C. Giacomo, who is an attorney, and who has been sent by the Fraternal Order of Police to render such assistance to you as may be mutually agreeable.”
“I know Mr. Giacomo,” Officer Prasko said.
“Chief, may I have a minute alone with Officer Prasko?” Giacomo asked.
“Certainly,” Coughlin said.
He walked to the door.
“Chief Coughlin!” Giacomo called. Coughlin turned.
Very discreetly, Manny Giacomo indicated the one-way mirror on the wall, and shook his head, “no.”
“When we’re through, I’ll knock at the door,” Giacomo said.
Denny Coughlin, very discreetly, signaled—by holding his balled fist, thumb extended upward, at waist level—that he understood Mr. Giacomo did not wish anyone looking into the room through the one-way mirror, and that he agreed to grant the wish.
Coughlin closed the door to the interview room and walked into the adjacent room. Captain David Pekach, Sergeant Jason Washington, and Detective Tony Harris were sitting on chairs looking through the mirror.
“Out,” Coughlin ordered.
Captains, sergeants, and detectives do not question the orders of chief inspectors.
They left the room.
“I’m a little disappointed to see Giacomo,” Captain Pekach said. “I thought even he drew a line someplace.”
“Would you like me to represent you on the charges that have been laid against you, Officer Prasko?” Giacomo asked.
“Yes, sir. Very much. Thank you.”
“You understand that we now have an attorney-client privilege? Everything that you tell me in confidence will not go any further than me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Just a quick answer. We can get into details later. What about the original charge? Essentially that you diverted evidence to your personal use?”
“That’s bullshit, Mr. Giacomo. What that is is a couple of nigger drug dealers trying to take me down, take the whole Five Squad down.”
“And the second charge, that you robbed a man of twenty thousand dollars at gunpoint?”
“I don’t know what the hell that’s all about.”
“And the rape?”
“Jesus, I’m a married man, Mr. Giacomo.”
“Now, listen to me carefully, Officer Prasko,” Giacomo said. “I’m a pretty good attorney, and with just a little luck, I could probably convince a jury that what you are is an honest cop with a good record.”
“Thank you.”
“And that the allegations made by the drug dealers—who would believe a drug dealer against someone like yourself?—were simply an attempt by them to get back at you for arresting them.”
“That’s what it is, Mr. Giacomo.”
