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There was silence on the line for a long moment, before Davis continued.

“So, for the reasons mentioned, Burton, no, I cannot say a word in the appropriate ear here. My advice, for what it’s worth, is to stay away-far away-from these people unless they ask for your assistance, in which case I suggest you be the spirit of cooperation.”

“Chief Yancey,” Jason Washington said, “I would be very grateful if there were someplace private where I could confer with Mr. Cohen and Sergeant Payne for a few minutes before we talk to Mr. Daniels.”

“You’re welcome to use this,” the chief said.

“You are very kind, sir,” Washington said, and waited for the others to leave.

“What’s this, Jason?” Cohen asked the moment the door closed.

“With the caveat that what I suggest would have to have your approval-not implied approval, and certainly not grudging approval-I am going to suggest a scenario for the initial interview.”

“Shoot.”

“Sergeant Kenny will handcuff and shackle Mr. Daniels in his cell, and bring him… here, I suppose, inasmuch as they do not have an interview room as such, would be as good a place as any, and I think the chief would make it available to us-and handcuff him to a heavy and, it is to be hoped, uncomfortable chair, if such can be located.

“Here, for ten minutes, he will wait-with Sergeant Kenny standing out of his sight behind his chair-while absolutely nothing happens. It will, I think, in his frame of mind, seem like much longer.

“It is possible that he will feel the call of nature, and I hope this indeed happens, because it will give Sergeant Kenny the opportunity to lead him-after he takes, say, five minutes getting permission to do so, while another silent officer stands behind the chair-back to his cell, and then back here, all the time in handcuffs and shackles. The ten-minute time clock will start again, if this happens, on his return here.

“I think his only experience with being either handcuffed or shackled was when he was first detained by the concerned citizens. There is a feeling of both helplessness and humiliation when one is shackled and handcuffed.”

“You don’t want to go too far with that, Jason,” Cohen said.

“Handcuffs and shackles are a normal security precaution. Nothing will take place that could possibly be construed as a threat of physical violence.

“His attorney will next appear. Mr. Daniels will almost certainly ask him what’s going on, to which Mr. Bernhardt will give the only reply he knows, that they are waiting for the police-I hope the word ‘homicide’ is used-and another ten minutes will pass.

“Then Sergeant Payne will enter the room and prepare to begin the first interview-”

“Sergeant Payne?” Cohen asked, incredulously, “and where am I?”

“Pray indulge me. I will be grateful for any objections or suggestions you might have, but let me finish, please, first.”

“Go ahead.”

“Payne will unlimber a recording device, not hurrying at all. One with two microphones would be good, and if we can find one with four, that would be even better.”

“A little theater, Jason?”

Washington nodded.

“When the recording device is set up, Matt will respectfully summon you from the corridor. When you come in, Matt will say, ‘Mr. Daniels, this is Mr. Cohen, an assistant district attorney for Philadelphia, who specializes in prosecution of those charged with murder.’

“And then he will turn on the tape recorder, and go through the routine there… ‘This interview of Mr. Homer C. Daniels, in connection with the murder of Cheryl Williamson,’ et cetera. You both know the routine.”

Both nodded.

“And then Matt will say, ‘Mr. Daniels, I understand that you have been advised of your rights as established by the United States Supreme Court, commonly called ‘the Miranda Decision,’ but just to make sure that you are fully aware of your constitutional rights in this situation, I’m going to go over them again with you in the presence of your attorney.”

“And re-Miranda-ize him?” Cohen said. He was now smiling.

Washington nodded.

“And then Matt will say something to this effect: ‘Mr. Daniels, I’m Sergeant Matthew Payne, Badge Number, of the Homicide Unit of the Philadelphia-’ ”

“Won’t he have already said that?” Cohen interrupted.