You have the Right to read this blog post.

“You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say, can and will, be used against you in a Court of Law.  You have the right to talk to an attorney, before and during any questioning.  If you can not afford to hire an attorney, one will be appointed to represent you if your wish one.  Do you understand these rights?”

I’d be willing to bet most of you didn’t even read that first paragraph all the way through, having skipped to this sentence because you know most of that admonishment verbatim.  

So, how many times have you seen your favorite police protagonist “Read ‘em his rights” as handcuffs were slapped around the antagonist’s wrists?  It’s often followed by a cynical “Watch your head” as the suspect is shoved into the back of a waiting police car.

Is that scene realistic?  You bet.  
Well…  
To an extent.  

The real question is:

Does your Detective know when the Miranda Admonishment needs to be read to a suspect?  

As a Detective (and as the Writer creating the story), you need to understand the strategy of when it’s smartest to admonish the suspect and more importantly, what the actual legal requirements are.

Let’s start with a little Constitutional Law for $1000, Alex.

The Miranda Admonishment is the result of the 1966 US Supreme Court in Miranda v. Arizona ruling that suspects must be informed of their 5th Amendment Right against self-incrimination and their 6th Amendment right to an attorney before custodial interrogation.  

So what does that mean for you, the Writer?  

It means that the Miranda Admonishment is only read when BOTH of these conditions exist:

#1.  The suspect is about to be asked questions that may lead to statements of culpability in a crime.

               - AND -

#2.  The suspect is NOT free to leave.

There is no requirement to advise the suspect of his rights upon arrest if he is not going to be questioned about the crime.  If I see a kid tagging a wall and arrest him, I may simply rely upon the evidence at the scene (fingerprint on spray can, surveillance video of him vandalizing the wall, etc.) and not ever ask him a question about the crime.  Since #1 above is not true, I do not need to read him his rights.

What if I interrogate a murder suspect over the phone?  Let’s say I really lay into him.  I accuse him of being the scum of the earth and talk about how gory the crime scene was and accuse him of lying to me.  I am yelling at him, playing bad cop and being a loud mouth bully to get him to make an admission.  Do I need to read him his rights before I go on my accusatory tirade of an interrogation?  No.  Since the suspect is on the phone, he is free to hang up and end the interview at any time.  He wasn’t even in my presence, so he was  inherently free to leave at anytime.  In other words, #2 was not true.  (I don’t really recommend interrogating murder suspects over the phone -go out and arrest him already!- but it illustrates point #2.)

Just to wrap up the Constitutional history lesson, the last part of the Miranda Admonishment that states “…if you can not afford to hire an attorney, one will be appointed to represent you…” actually pre-dates the Miranda ruling.  The right to a Court appointed attorney was covered by the ruling in Gideon v. Wainwright.  You might remember the 1980’s made-for-TV movie “Gideon’s Trumpet” starring Henry Fonda as Clarence Gideon. 

Are the rights really read to a suspect or does your Detective just blurt them out from rote memory?
 
Why would you read the suspect his rights when you’ve been a Detective forever and know them by heart?  It’s about being on the witness stand.  I would much rather make it my regular practice to read every suspect their rights from my “department issued Miranda Admonishment card” than to have to convince a jury that I wasn’t forgetful on the day of the interrogation.  Your Detective should always read the suspect’s rights.  Unless you, the Writer, want a way to generate conflict in the story and make life miserable for your Detective. 

For a Detective, an ounce of strategy is worth a pound of testimony.  

Write well,

Adam