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38
Five hours later, we waited in a small visiting room at the police station: me, Sebastian, Johnny, and Bert Glasser, the best criminal defense lawyer in New York City. Connor was a personal friend of his; now he was a client.
The door opened, and Connor walked in, escorted by a guard. Connor was wearing an orange jumpsuit. It pained me to see him treated as a criminal – this man I loved, who hadn’t done a damn thing.
Worse than that, though, were the manacles around his ankles and wrists.
The first thing that happened was Connor shot me a comforting smile. It’s okay. Don’t worry.
The second thing that happened was Bert Glasser started yelling.
“Is this really necessary?” he shouted, gesturing at the manacles. “That was a rhetorical question, by the way; the correct answer is no, it’s not. Unlock my client right now.”
The guard looked uneasy. “I was told – ”
“Let me tell you something. I had a client last week, charged with killing two people in a home invasion, and you guys didn’t bother chaining him up. This is done solely to humiliate my client and intimidate him, which was deemed unconstitutional in the Supreme Court case Anderson v. State of Illinois, so if you don’t want me to file an injunction as soon as I walk out of here and get your ass hauled into court, take them off right now.”
The guard grudgingly removed the manacles and stepped outside.
For a 5’4” balding guy with glasses and a Long Island accent, Bert Glasser commanded a lot of respect.
Connor wrapped his strong arms around me.
“Are you okay?” I asked tearfully.
He grinned wryly. “I’ve had better days.”
I laughed as he wiped away my tears and kissed me.
Then he extended his arm and shook hands with the lawyer. “Bert. Good to see you.”
“Connor,” Bert said grimly. “Wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Did they really chain Connor up just to intimidate him?” I asked.
“Oh yes. Standard operating procedure.”
I was seething. “But they didn’t put your other client in chains?”
Bert chuckled. “Oh, I just made that up.”
I stared at him. “You what?!”
“Hey, they make shit up about my client, I throw it right back at ‘em,” Bert said, completely unaffected, as he opened his briefcase on the table.
“He probably made up the Supreme Court case, too,” Connor asked.
“Of course,” the lawyer said. “He’s a security guard. He doesn’t know constitutional law.”
I looked up at Connor. “How did you know?”
“Nobody on a home invasion charge would be able to afford Bert,” Connor said. “Not unless he’d been extremely successful at burglary prior to getting caught.”
Okay… this was going to be an interesting lawyer-client relationship…
“Why the hell do they have me in here, Bert?” Connor asked angrily.
“Seems the toxicology reports came back on your father. They found cyanide.”
