Silent Bite: An Andy Carpenter Mystery
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About this ebook
Andy Carpenter and his golden retriever, Tara, are finding that all is not calm or bright in Silent Bite, the latest Christmas mystery in this heartwarming series from bestselling author David Rosenfelt.
Lawyer Andy Carpenter can finally take a breath; he’s back on dry land after a family Caribbean cruise forced on him by his wife, Laurie, to get into the Christmas spirit. Of course the family’s first stop is to the Tara Foundation, the dog rescue organization that has always been Andy’s true passion.
But when Andy arrives, his partner, Willie Miller, needs his help. Willie’s old cellmate, Tony Birch, has been arrested for murder. Andy doesn’t necessarily believe in Tony, but Willie does. And Andy believes in Willie, which is why Andy decides to take the case.
Once again David Rosenfelt puts readers in the Christmas spirit in a tale that is equal parts mystery and holiday cheer.
David Rosenfelt
DAVID ROSENFELT is the Edgar-nominated and Shamus Award-winning author of more than twenty Andy Carpenter novels, including One Dog Night, Collared, and Deck the Hounds; its spinoff series, The K-Team; the Doug Brock thriller series, which starts with Fade to Black; and stand-alone thrillers including Heart of a Killer and On Borrowed Time. Rosenfelt and his wife live in Maine with an ever-changing pack of rescue dogs. Their epic cross-country move with 25 of these dogs, culminating in the creation of the Tara Foundation, is chronicled in Dogtripping.
Read more from David Rosenfelt
Dogtripping: 25 Rescues, 11 Volunteers, and 3 RVs on Our Canine Cross-Country Adventure Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Airtight: A Thriller Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Don't Tell a Soul: A Thriller Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5On Borrowed Time: A Thriller Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Down to the Wire: A Thriller Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5
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Reviews for Silent Bite
55 ratings7 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5If there is one thing that Andy can’t do, it’s turn his back on a friend or a dog, not necessarily in that order. When Willie asks him to defend Tony, a former cellmate, Andy can’t say no. It looks like the guy is being framed for murder, and while Andy may not be convinced, Willie is, and that is good enough for Andy to take the case. Besides, Tony has a dog he obviously loves, and that tips the scale in his favor. It’s an exciting read, with plenty of mystery and murders galore. Andy and his team will definitely have to bring their A game to the table to win this one. Filled with all the wit and wonder we’ve come to expect from David Rosenfelt, this book is a winner.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This is #22 in the Andy Carpenter crime/legal procedural series that always manages to get us laughing out loud.Andy Carpenter, the main character, is a “semi-retired” criminal defense attorney in Paterson, New Jersey who hates to work, but keeps taking on new litigation anyway, albeit reluctantly. In this book, he explains that even besides not liking to work, it is fear that is behind Andy’s reluctance to take on clients: “. . . the risk that scares the shit out of me is having an innocent client and not being able to convince a jury of that truth. . . . that’s why I have to be dragged kicking and screaming into a courtroom.” He actually doesn’t have to work; he came into a lot of money from a previous win in court.Usually a case comes to his attention because of some involvement of a dog. In this book, it is not only a dog that draws him in, but a plea from his friend, former client, and current partner Willie Miller. Willie and his wife Sondra are Andy’s partners in the Tara Foundation, a dog-rescue operation. [In real life, the author founded the Tara Foundation as a home for sick or injured dogs, and the foundation has rescued over 4,000 dogs from shelters.]Willie’s friend Tony Birch has been accused of the murder of Frank Zimmer, shot in the back of the head, but Willie tells Andy he is sure Tony is innocent. For that matter, Tony’s dog Zoey, a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever, also seems to believe firmly in Tony’s goodness.Andy takes on the case but without his usual partner, the lawyer Hike Lynch, who is moving out of town. At Hike’s recommendation, Andy hires Eddie Dowd, a lawyer who is a former football player for the Giants, and who very amusingly heavily peppers his legal analyses with sports analogies.Tony used to be in a gang, but now is a respected owner of a car repair shop. Nevertheless, he has no alibi, and a strong motive, not only for Zimmer’s killing, but for the other related killings that have happened recently, complicating Andy’s investigation. As the case goes to trial, Andy remains clueless about how to help Tony, until a sudden insight at the last moment allows him to come up with a defense that just might work, or not….Evaluation: My husband and I love these books, which, by the way, you don’t really need to read in order to enjoy. This one takes place during the Christmas season (four months long in Andy’s house, much to his chagrin), which mainly serves to allow Andy to inject many jokes about the horrors of ubiquitous Christmas music. Andy’s sarcasm and wit are unfailingly entertaining, as are his relationships with the rest of his team, which includes his ex-cop wife Laurie and their “muscle,” Marcus. For a quick, diverting read that challenges you at the same time, you can’t go wrong with David Rosenfelt’s Andy Carpenter series.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Andy Carpenter is a semi-retired lawyer who would prefer to be entirely retired so he could spend more time with the dog rescue he started with his friend, Willie but somehow, something always drags back into his law practice. This time, it’s as a favour to Willie whose friend and one-time cellmate, Tony Birch, has been charged with murder. Andy isn’t sure how he feels about it. Tony Has a troublesome past as a member of violent gang and the man he was accused of murder had once testified against him many years ago which is how he had ended up in a cell with Willie. To make matters worse, after the earlier trial, he had been heard loudly threatening to kill the victim in front of dozens of witnesses. But Willie has always been there when Andy needed help and, besides, Tony has a really sweet dog that clearly loves and misses him so Andy reluctantly takes the case. He figures there’s a slim chance he can win the case...that is, until another man who testified agains Tony in the earlier case also turns up dead &, unfortunately, the forensic evidence shows it happened before Tony’s arrest.Silent Bite is the twenty-second entry in the Andy Carpenter cozy mystery series by David Rosenfelt but it was the first I have read. I can honestly say I really enjoyed it. It is smart and, if at times, it stretched my willing suspension of disbelief almost to the breaking, there is a good supply of wit and humour to make up for it. The story is told in the first person by Andy and the book is interspersed with self-deprecating jokes and anecdotes that really have little to do with the story but are a whole lot of fun to read. If you’re looking for a fast, entertaining, and often laugh-out-loud Christmas cozy with plenty of humour and dogs, this may be exactly what you’r looking for,
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.---Wow. Andy Carpenter #22. That's hard to believe. It doesn't seem that long ago that I started reading these (I think back in the single digits). But all-in-all, it's been a fun ride. How's this one stack up?WHAT'S SILENT BITE ABOUT?When Andy and his family return from a holiday cruise (a novella describing that in more detail than we got here would quickly become a fan favorite, no doubt), he's got a bunch of messages from Willie Miller. A friend, and former cellmate, of Willie's has been arrested for murder. Both Willie and his friend, Tony Birch, want Andy to take the case and clear him. Andy wants nothing to do with a problematic looking case*, but Willie's a friend—and Andy's son, Ricky, has pointed out that Willie does stuff for Andy all the time. Also, Tony has a dog that's miserable without him around.* or any case, really.The murder victim is one of the witnesses against Birch for the manslaughter charge that put him in prison with Willie years ago. At the trial, Tony threatened to kill him (and a few others) for turning on him, after years in a gang together. But upon his release from prison, years before this new murder, Tony had turned his life around—he owned and operated a fairly successful auto repair garage, and had no interest in criminal activity again. So why seek vengeance now?And why be as utterly stupid with the murder weapon as the prosecution wants people to believe?But then another witness against Tony in the original case turns up dead, and things start looking really bad for him. So it's up to Andy and his team to save the day.ZOEY, THE NOVA SCOTIA DUCK TROLLING RETRIEVERI really don't have much to say about Zoey, Tony's dog, but I've never heard of her breed before—and I don't feel too bad about that Andy hadn't seen one before. If your day could use a little lift, take a minute or two to scroll through some pictures online. Cute dogs.** That's a tautology, I realize.THE NEW ASSOCIATEIn most of his cases, Andy Carpenter utilizes an associate to do the ugly detailed work, filing motions, looking up pertinent case law, and so on, while Andy goes around visiting people, investigating, getting saved from certain peril by Marcus Clerk, and being snarky and clever in court. He started with Kevin Randall, who owned a laundromat and gave legal advice to those who couldn't afford it. He eventually moved on and Hike Lynch moved in—largely, I think because Hike is a more entertaining character than Kevin. Well, Hike isn't around for this one and he suggests Eddie Dowd step in.Eddie used to play for the Giants, but a knee injury ended that career, so he went to law school. He speaks almost entirely in sports phrases (spike the ball, put me in, pitch in, and so on). It's fairly ridiculous, but when done right, it's pretty funny. He's a nice change from the Eeyore-like character that Hike had been. I'm not sure if he'll be back, or if Hike will return—I'll be glad to see him if he is, even if it seems like the joke about his figures of speech will get old. I have faith in Rosenfelt. I'd have thought that Hike's extreme pessimism or Kevin's hypochondria would.SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT SILENT BITE?I thought the identity of the killer was pretty obvious, but Rosenfelt's execution of the reveal and of keeping Andy from seeing the solution all along sold me. I can't be more descriptive of that because I don't want to tip anything. It was a great conclusion to a really solid legal thriller, that comes with all the canine affection, snappy dialogue, some clever courtroom action, and a solid plot. Pretty much what the doctor ordered.Once we got The K Team this year, with Muzzled as well, I didn't figure we'd have a Holiday Andy Carpenter book. Then when I saw this was coming, I worried it wouldn't live up to the other Holiday books in this series. I kept being wrong about this book—we got it and it wasn't a let-down. Rosenfelt managed to give us three strong novels in 2020 (hey, look, 2020 didn't wind up in a disaster on one front!)—that right there, folks, is a sign of a professional.Whether you're new to the world of this would-be retired criminal defense lawyer and are in the mood for a witty and sharp legal thriller, or if you're familiar with Andy and his associates—this will entertain you. You'd do well to give this a shot.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Andy Carpenter's new case takes place during the Christmas season. An old friend of his partner Willie Miller has been accused of murder. Andy is, as always, reluctant to take the case. He likes being a mostly retired lawyer. He doesn't need the money. But he'll do anything for a friend. He isn't so sure that Tony Birch didn't commit the murder but both Willie and Tony's rescue dog Zoey have faith in him.Tony Birch has outgrown and outlived his gang past. He served time for involuntary manslaughter after a fight that should have been considered self-defense if two of his fellow gang members, and people he considered his friends, hadn't testified against him. Now, he's the owner of his own auto repair shop.Tony's supposed victim is one of the men who testified against him during his manslaughter trial. Adding more fuel to the investigation is that the police found the murder weapon buried in his yard and loosely covered with a handkerchief holding Tony's DNA. When the body of the second witness is discovered things get even grimmer. He was killed in the same manner and with the same gun as the first victim. Tony doesn't have an alibi for either of the two murders and has no idea why anyone would be trying to frame him for the crimes.Without another suspect, Andy and his team have to dig deep into Tony's past to try to find someone who wants him convicted of the two murders. The investigations lead them into the gang landscape of New Jersey and put them in contact with Luther, the man who runs the Blood Dragons, and to the death of an eight-year-old girl who was accidentally shot during an attempted robbery which was actually Luther's gang's attempt to get payment from someone who owed him drug money.When a number of other people who had connections to the child's death also start dying, Andy becomes more convinced that Luther is trying to clean up loose ends. And then Luther and his top lieutenants are killed too...I really enjoyed this story. I like that it is told in the first person by Andy. I liked his sarcastic voice. I liked that he would do anything for his friends. I liked his devotion to his dog and to rescuing other dogs.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5When I get my mitts on the annual “Carpenter Christmas” book, I immediately check the date. As of today, there are about 100 shopping days until Dec. 24th. That’s the day I actually buy gifts (which pretty much explains some of my choices). These are the only holiday themed books I regularly read, partly because I empathize with Andy. Like him, I tire of Xmas carols early, though thankfully no one in my house starts playing them in July (looking at you, Laurie…). But this book marks a couple of changes to the long running series which I’ll get to. What hasn’t changed is Andy’s dream of retirement. Yeah, not happening. Once again his quest for permanent slackerdom is thwarted & this year it’s Willie’s fault. Tony Birch once shared a prison cell with Willie but since being released 3 years ago, he’s opened his own garage & led an exemplary life. So when the body of an estranged childhood friend is found, it’s a bit of a shock when police arrest & charge Tony with murder. Ditto after the second body pops up. Tony has no idea what’s going on.…he just knows he needs that Carpenter guy who freed his friend. Andy can’t say no to Willie so the case is a go & the digging begins. Turns out there’s actually a silver lining to working through the holidays…..they rarely play Xmas carols in jail or the court room. With Andy comes the rest of the team plus Laurie’s partners Marcus, Corey & Simon the Wonder Dog. At this point, I won’t mention the rest because there’s been a change to the starting line-up. Yup, one of the old (ir)regulars has moved on & been replaced. And no, I’m not telling. Which brings me to the second change. This series has always been known for its humour & much of that was due to the MC being a smart-ass. It’s a hard act to maintain without it becoming “schtick” & maybe that’s why the author has dialled it down in this outing. There’s still plenty to make you smile but it’s the investigation/mystery that takes centre stage & it’s a cracker.In alternate chapters, we’re privy to some nefarious stuff going on in the background but even then, I bet you’ll have trouble spotting the person behind it all. If you’re read previous books, you know it’s like spending time with old friends….albeit somewhere people around you expire at an alarming rate. Anyhoo, it makes for an effortless read that keeps you on your toes. An intricate mystery, great characters & a herd of dogs….pretty much all you need.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5law-enforcement, lawyers, murder, murder-investigation, snark-fest, family-dynamics, friendship, private-investigators, gangsters, situational-humor, verbal-humor*****No way this could be an unbiased review. I love Andy Carpenter's world with all the dogs, the complicated interesting characters, the excellent plots, and, in these days of a virus, the snarkiness and all the laughs. Andy Carpenter is the snarkiest un lawyer you'll ever meet. His greatest fans are dogs, his wife(a private investigator and former homicide lieutenant with lots of connections), and his son. Andy is a defense lawyer who (sort of) picks his cases, hates going to court, and always wins for the good guys (his clients). This time his partner in dog rescue asks him to defend a friend he met in prison (see books 1 and 2). It's a case of murder and soon becomes a lot more than that. Lots of sleuthing combined with humor and suspense. Another winner in my book!I requested and received a free ebook copy from St. Martin's Press/Minotaur Books via NetGalley. Thank you!
Book preview
Silent Bite - David Rosenfelt
This is Terry Banner asking you to remember that you heard it here first.
The red light went off, telling Banner with certainty that he was no longer on the air. He took out his earpiece, removed his microphone, opened his shirt collar, and removed his tie. He hated ties; if the inventor of the tie were still alive, Banner would wish him a miserable death. Strangulation would represent a delicious irony.
Way to go, Terry. You really nailed it tonight.
Banner accepted the compliment from the cameraman with a nod and a brief Thanks.
The truth was that he had no idea if he had nailed it or not; the cameraman said some version of the same thing after every broadcast. The other truth was that by a half hour after the time he would get to the bar, he’d forget what it was that he had talked about.
Banner was the opinion reporter for a local Scranton, Pennsylvania, station, and each night’s opinion was basically a recitation of some series of events that he claimed should leave viewers feeling outraged. Since people never tired of feeling outraged, Banner was the closest thing Scranton had to a media star.
Banner’s career had already taken an unusual path. He started out at a small Toledo station, then got noticed by a New York news executive visiting his grandmother in a Toledo suburb. The next thing he knew he was working for Channel 5 in New York.
That’s where he started his daily outrages spiel, and he thought he was doing pretty well. Then one day the target of his outrage was the local teachers’ union, which turned out to be an unfortunate choice, since the incoming head of the news division turned out to have a sister who was the president of that same union. Banner was gone soon after.
Actually, Banner didn’t realize that his ill-fated choice of targets was only a secondary reason for his firing. What was really going on was that the station had information that Banner was involved in unsavory and possibly illegal activities in his life away from the studio. The station preferred to keep that quiet and let people assume that it was the station manager’s anger and defense of his sister that led to Banner’s termination.
The next thing Banner knew he was back in Scranton. And even though no one would ever accuse him of being an upbeat person, he soon learned that exile wasn’t so bad. He became a Scranton celebrity and found out that he liked being the big fish in the small pond.
He brought his outrage shtick with him, and people all over the Scranton area were soon tuning in to find out what they should be pissed off about. So even though when he first left New York he was determined to get back, pretty soon he wasn’t thinking about that at all. The cost of living was much less, the women were just as nice and liked him far more than New York women did, and the alcohol went down just the same.
There was another aspect of life in Scranton that represented a pleasant surprise for Banner. In the New York area, he had developed a lucrative sideline of selling opioids. A contact had been easy to make, and quite a few people, including some colleagues, were eager buyers.
It didn’t take long to set up a similar operation in Scranton; he didn’t even have to change suppliers. He believed he was smart enough to stay under any law enforcement radar, and if the police had noticed him, they hadn’t come forward. Before long Banner’s unofficial career was earning him more than his on-air work.
On that particular night Banner went to his favorite bar, Shanahan’s, in downtown Scranton. For weeks he’d sat in the same seat at the right end of the bar, but then started to feel like Norm from Cheers, so he moved to a small table in the far corner. More than occasionally Banner wound up leaving with a female patron, but no such luck on that night.
He arrived at seven o’clock and left at nine forty-five. Towns in this part of Pennsylvania generally closed up early, at least by New York standards, and Scranton was no exception. His blood alcohol level was certainly over the legal limit, and there was never a time that he wouldn’t have at least traces of drugs in his body, but he never worried about that. He was conscious of his impairment and drove carefully, and it’s not like there was ever traffic at that hour.
Banner’s drive home was without incident, and twenty minutes after he left the bar he pulled into his garage. Eighteen seconds after that the .38-caliber bullet entered the back of his head, killing him instantly.
My first cruise is almost over.
Truth be told, I didn’t want to do this. I was more than willing to go through life cruise-less. But Laurie and Ricky wanted to go on one, so as we often do, we had a family vote. It would not have taken Gallup to predict that the final tabulation would be two votes in favor of going, and one opposed. I asked for the jury to be polled, but that didn’t change the final count.
We boarded one week ago tomorrow. The first thing we did was go to our cabin, which is a two-bedroom suite. The two bedrooms plus the living room combined are the size of a large coffee table. But it would be fine, Laurie assured me, because we would rarely be in the room. There was too much fun to be had on the ship, and I, Andy Carpenter, am nothing if not fun loving.
Almost immediately we were directed to find our life jackets and make it to our assigned stations, which were listed on the door. I’m not a big fan of needing life jackets because by definition they imply danger to life. That’s why, for example, we don’t keep life jackets in our den at home.
I could barely figure out the various straps to get mine on, so Ricky helped me. And of course I was under no stress during this drill; the chance that I would be able to manage it while on the deck of a sinking ship is infinitesimal.
We did as instructed and made it to our station. Once there we stood with maybe two hundred other life-jacketed passengers and responded when our names were called. One of the crew assured us that if a passenger was not there to answer to his or her name, another crew member would be sent to their stateroom to get them. This was a mandatory drill.
After the roll call, we were told that in an emergency we were to do what we had just practiced: grab our life jackets and come to these stations. Lifeboats would then be lowered automatically from high up on the ship down to us, and we would get in. The plan, I suppose, was to then happily row away to the sounds of Celine Dion coming from the sinking ship’s audio system.
Almost immediately I recognized a problem. I think I read somewhere that some of the Titanic lifeboats never even got used, and they didn’t have to come down on elevators. They were just sitting there on the side of the ship. So in our case, the ship would be sinking rapidly, but all the lifeboat elevators would work perfectly? Unlikely at best.
I was thinking maybe two-thirds of them would make it down. Doing the math, that meant that one-third wouldn’t, leaving a lot of people floating around, boatless. I do not envision my final resting place to be at the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by rusting buffet tables.
It wasn’t mentioned, but my guess was that the crew still clung to the antiquated notion that women and children have priority. That is so yesterday.
I’m fine with Laurie and Ricky getting special status, but it shouldn’t be a blanket policy. It represents sexism and ageism; two isms that I am firmly opposed to. Sinkism and drownism are two more.
So I could see I was going to be left having to fend for myself against the other men on board. Some of them were really old, so I figured I could outrun or even outfight them. But others looked in good shape, so I’d have to outthink them. I hadn’t come up with a strategy, but putting on one of Laurie’s dresses and lipstick was a possibility.
Laurie could tell that I wasn’t approaching this with the right attitude, so she starting telling me about the glorious diversions the ship offered: Andy, there are an amazing amount of things to do. There are restaurants, bars, a bowling alley, bingo games, shows, movies, a casino, arcades, a library, computers, amusement rides, swimming pools, and, best of all, a close-up view of the ocean.
That’s great,
I said. But you know what else has all of those things? New Jersey. And you can’t slip and fall off New Jersey. You can stand on a street corner in Paterson for ten years and never get seasick or need a lifeboat.
The truth is that the week has been relaxing and bearable. We’ve made stops at five Caribbean islands. They were all exactly the same; I’m pretty sure that we really went to the same island five times. They just called it by different names, and they cleverly changed the T-shirts in the stores, but I saw through the ruse.
Thanksgiving was last week, but the ship is in Christmas mode. Decorations are everywhere, Santas are there to Ho, ho, ho
at every kid that walks by, and Christmas music is piped throughout.
I can usually stand Christmas music for about an hour, and then I want to scream when it’s played. Of course, Laurie thinks the Christmas season lasts for four months, so I’ve been hearing it since Halloween. It doesn’t take me long to get sick of Bing Crosby telling me that Santa knows when I’ve been sleeping and when I’m awake.
The island shops were also decorated for Christmas, which seemed completely incongruous. It felt like 145 degrees outside, and all the windows were decorated with fake snow, candy canes, and tinsel.
Time on the ship itself has been reasonably enjoyable; Ricky has had plenty to do, while Laurie and I have been resting and reading. We’ve also been doing our fair share of drinking, though it’s embarrassing that every drink I order comes with a little umbrella in it.
Laurie and Ricky wanted to play bingo yesterday. I agreed because I am an agreeable guy, but I had one condition: if I won, either she or Ricky had to be the one to yell Bingo!
I won the first game, and Ricky, who does not share my fear of humiliation, happily screamed it out.
We did have one disaster happen. On Sunday, I went into the bar area to watch pro football, but the only sports station that the ship gets is ESPN. There are no afternoon football games on ESPN, so instead I watched bass fishing, just so I could see the updated NFL scores scrolling across the bottom of the screen. A guy next to me at the bar tried to engage me in bass-fishing talk. It was not my finest moment.
Right now we’re close to pulling into port on the West Side of Manhattan, so I turn on my cell phone, and I see that I have six messages, all from Willie Miller, and all in the last four hours.
Each message is almost identical: Andy, it’s Willie. Tara and Sebastian are good, but I need to talk to you about something else. It’s important. But Tara and Sebastian are really good.
Tara is my golden retriever, best friend, and greatest living creature on the face of the earth, or any other planet known or still to be discovered. Sebastian is our basset hound, also a great dog, but, candidly, not in Tara’s class. There is nothing and no one else in Tara’s class.
I’m a defense attorney, and Willie is my friend and former client. He and his wife, Sondra, are my partners in the Tara Foundation, our dog-rescue operation. They are also taking care of Tara and Sebastian while we are away, and Willie is smart enough to realize that if he left an urgent message without assuring me of their good health, I would freak out.
As soon as I have enough bars on my phone, I call him.
Andy, are you back?
he asks, in lieu of Hello.
Almost. Tara and Sebastian are okay?
I know he said they were, but I seem to need further reassurance.
They’re good. Can you meet me at the Passaic County jail in an hour?
You’re in jail?
No … I’m home.
Then, I’ve got a better idea. How about if I meet you in front of your house and we can go down there together? In an hour?
I can’t get there that fast, Willie. I’m still on the ship.
Then make it two hours. Thanks, Andy.
Click.
He’s hung up before I have a chance to ask why he wants me to go down to the jail, which means I have two hours of blissful ignorance to savor.
There is no way this can be good,
I say, once we’re in the car.
I hope he didn’t lose his temper with a potential adopter,
Laurie says.
Willie can be volatile, and he has no patience for anyone who comes in to adopt a dog but then demonstrates a lack of respect for it. If he doesn’t think they would represent a good home for one of our dogs, he can be rather confrontational and blunt about it.
People don’t like to be told that they aren’t worthy of adopting a dog, but most of them have the good sense not to argue with Willie. A few have tried to, and that’s when it can get ugly.
Christmas is a particularly dangerous time in this regard, since people are inclined to get dogs as gifts, like a tennis racquet, or a toaster oven. People should be looking for a member of the family, not something that they can unwrap and return. Willie is keenly aware of this, and protective of the dogs in our care.
I don’t think so,
I say. He was in control of when he was going to go to the jail; he wasn’t being dragged there by the police.
Maybe someone he knows is there.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
I don’t have to explain what I mean; I’ve been trying to avoid taking on clients for a long time, but it never seems to work out. Willie calling me down to the jail has raised my anti-client alert system to DEFCON 1.
What does Uncle Willie want, Dad?
Ricky asks from the backseat.
I don’t know, Rick. Maybe a favor of some kind.
He’s your friend, right?
Yes.
And he does favors for you, right?
I turn to Laurie. Do you have a sock or something you can put in his mouth?
Instead, she says, Yes, Rick. Uncle Willie does many favors for Dad. They are good friends.
We get to our house on Forty-second Street in Paterson, New Jersey. I’ve lived here almost my whole life, and it always feels great to come back home when I’ve been away. The Christmas tree in the living room is visible from the street, and the decorative lights on it are turned on. Laurie somehow knows how to do that from her phone; I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how.
Willie is waiting out in front, holding Tara and Sebastian on leashes. Laurie, Ricky, and I get out of the car and spend the next few minutes petting and rolling on the ground with the two of them. Actually, Sebastian doesn’t roll, but a couple of times he almost tips over. It’s good that he doesn’t because it would take a crane to get him up.
It is amazingly good to see them, and judging by the speed at which their tails are wagging, they are more than a little glad to see us. I would like this reunion to last forever, mainly so I won’t have to talk to Willie about the favor involving the jail. But it’s cold out here, so we need to move this along.
I delay the conversation with Willie further by carrying the bags in, but once that’s done, Willie asks, Andy, remember my friend Tony Birch?
No.
You remember, Tony Birch,
he coaxes. Tony? Tony Birch?
I don’t, Willie. So why don’t you just tell—
He interrupts, not giving up. Anthony. Anthony Birch. We call him Tony.
You mean Tony Birch?
I ask, changing tactics.
Yeah, that’s him.
I don’t remember him, Willie. But why are we talking about him?
We were cellmates for a while. Great guy; I know I mentioned him to you.
Is he still in jail?
I ask.
He got out years ago, but he just got arrested again. They said he murdered a guy.
So you want me to find him a lawyer?
I ask, on the off chance that if you say something out loud, even something stupid, that might make it come true.
I want you to be his lawyer. He needs you, Andy. He would never hurt anybody.
You said he was your cellmate. What was he in for back then?
Manslaughter.
This is the guy who would never hurt anybody?
I ask, as gently as I can.
He didn’t do it, Andy.
Didn’t do which? The manslaughter or the murder?
Both.
Ricky’s words are ricocheting around inside my skull. He’s your friend, right? And he does favors for you, right?
When I get Ricky alone, I’m going to scream really loudly at him, but the undeniable truth is that he’s right. Willie has always been there for me, and I’ve called on him many times. He has even saved my life while risking his own life.
When was he arrested?
I ask.
Yesterday.
And he doesn’t have a lawyer yet?
They gave him a public defender.
The public defenders are terrific.
Not as good as you. Tony wants you. He knows we’re friends.
I have nowhere to go with this. I’m trapped. Okay, let’s go. I’ll talk to Tony Birch.
He’s a great guy.
I’m not committing to anything right now other than talking to him. Okay?
Got it,
Willie says, though I know he paid no attention to what I said. You’ll like him. You won’t be sorry.
I’m already sorry is what I think but don’t say. The other thing I think as we head for the jail is that I’d rather be playing bingo.
The only positive thing about visiting the jail is that they’re not piping in Christmas music.
But it is a relentlessly depressing place to be, regardless of the season. I know, because I have spent more time in this place than most convicted felons.
My man Willie came through.
Those are the first words that Tony Birch says when he’s brought into the lawyer’s visiting room. He doesn’t look much more than thirty years old; he has jet-black hair and is built like a tight end for the Giants. Although I can’t ever remember seeing a Giants tight end in handcuffs, even though some of them occasionally play like it.
You seem surprised,
I say.
I’m always surprised when somebody does what they say they’re going to do. Although in Willie’s case, not so much. That’s why I called him.
I told him I would talk with you. No commitments beyond that.
Fair enough; I appreciate the opportunity. Let’s talk.
Okay. I’ve just gotten back from a vacation to nowhere, so I don’t know anything about your situation. Tell me whatever you think is relevant.
He nods. Three days ago a guy, Frankie Zimmer, was found dead on Bergen Street in Paterson. I’m told he was shot in the back of the head. Yesterday they arrested me.
Did you know the victim?
He nods. We grew up together. We … hung out … on the same streets downtown.
Something about the way Tony says hung out
strikes me. "What does ‘hung out’ mean? You sang on the street corner together? You were on the same bowling