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Sara Toni was a performance artist out of the East
Village scene. One day, she copped some heroin on
Houston Street from some guys she didn't know and got
caught up in a sweep.

"You're too old to be still doing this shit," Harry
Kresge whispered, seated next to her in the
Arraignment Part.

"How old do you think I am?" she whispered back.

He couldn't decide if she was almost pretty or had
once been pretty, but, for whatever reason, wasn't
anymore. He thought maybe it was because she had
"junkie" written all over her face. "Don't kid
yourself, you look like shit. You're forty-five if
your a day."

"I'm thirty-five," she huffed with indignation.

"Bullshit! If you're only thirty-five, that's all the
more reason to straighten yourself out. I'm telling
you, you look like crap."

"Thanks a lot. What kind of lawyer are you..? David
never should have hired you without asking me first!"

"Quiet over there!" One of the court officers in the
well of the courtroom was looking directly at them.
"If you have to talk, take it out in the hall!"

"What are you gonna do to get me out of this?" She
was still too loud. The officer looked at them again.

"Shhhh! I'll tell you after I talk to the D.A.,"
Harry whispered, keeping one eye on the officer.
"Whatever we do, it's going to involve some kind of
program. That's the only way I can keep you from
going to jail."

"But this was a set-up." She was getting loud, again.

"Who's the judge going to believe, you or the cops?
Blow trial and you'll get a taste of jail for sure."

"What the hell kind of lawyer are you..?

David leaned over from where he was seated on her
other side. "Listen to him, he's right!"

David was the nervous boyfriend who had called Harry
without consulting Sara. He was footing the bill for
her fall. Harry had him figured to be about his own
age, mid-fifties, maybe even older, but well
preserved. His curly hair was almost white. He felt
sorry for the guy. He'd really saddled himself with a
difficult problem when he'd got hooked up with this
broad. It was easy to see how much he cared about
her. Harry understood. He'd been there, himself.

Sara didn't look happy. Then they called her case.
Harry worked something out in a brief bench conference
and it went just as he thought it would, a plea to
Disorderly Conduct and three days of drug counseling.

"A dis-con is only a violation, not a crime. This is
a good deal," he told her as they huddled at counsel
table.

"But it was a bad search!"

"First you tell me you didn't have the stuff, now you
tell me it was a bad search. You can't have it both
ways. Take the plea, it will keep you from getting a
criminal record." He turned toward the judge. "Seal
the records in sixty days, your honor?"

The judge looked at his client, then looked down at
the complaint. "Seal in a year!" she said staring at
Sara.

"But Judge, I didn't do anything." Sara tried her
best to perform her way out of the three days of
counseling. She had no idea how much she sounded like
every other junkie who passed through there.

"When you go home, look in a mirror, then come back
here and try to tell me you're not using!" The judge
turned toward Harry. "It looks like your client's not
interested in a plea, Mr. Kresge. Let's put this over
for motions."

"I'll take it," Sara chimed in with resignation.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses," the Judge said.
"Mr. Kresge, how does your client plead to the charge
of Disorderly Conduct?"

"Guilty, your honor."

"In view of your plea, the misdemeanor charge of
Criminal Possession of a Controlled Substance will be
dismissed on the consent of the District Attorney.
Miss Toni, I'm sentencing you to a conditional
discharge on the condition that you complete three
days of drug intervention counseling. If you fail to
finish the program, I'll resentence you to fifteen
days in jail. See the court clerk on your way out!"

Out in the hall, Sara was less than contrite. "You
let them railroad me!" she shouted at Harry.

David grabbed Harry by the elbow and led him off to
the side. "Thanks, you did a good job."

"I'm serious about what I said," Harry told him
grimly.

"I know. She really is thirty-five."

"She needs more than three days of counseling. She's
going to be back here in a couple months, if she
doesn't get long-term help. The cops are beefing up
their operations on the lower east-side. It's only a
matter of time."

"Listen, that tough talk you gave her in the courtroom
is just what she needs. Can you talk to her one more
time before we leave the courthouse?"

Harry was reluctant. He'd given this pep-talk a
thousand times with mixed results, but never before
had he had a client who was so nasty about it, who
wouldn't even play along. David was such a nice guy.
Harry felt bad about what he was going through. For
David's sake, he decided he'd give it one more try.
They walked back over to where she was pacing like she
couldn't wait to hit Houston Street and bag another
fix.

His tone was more gentle. "Look, I know you're not
happy, but this plea was the best thing for you. It
should be an eye-opener. When you talk to the
counselors, ask them about getting more substantial
help. This three day intervention thing is bullshit.
It's designed for people who are just dabbling. It's
not meant for people like you."

"Thanks, Harry. You're right. I'm really gonna
straighten myself out."

She didn't mean a word of it and Harry knew it, but at
least she was being civil. There had to be some way
to break it off and this was as good a way as any to
end it. At least, now, there was still some hope he'd
be retained when she got busted again.