Saul Goodman - Don't Go to Jail! - Saul Goodman's Guide to Keeping the Cuffs Off

I wanted to come back to the whole question of “snitch” versus “whistle-blower” one more time. It’s easy to think of them as distinct at this point, right? Snitches are traitors of trust, and whistle-blowers are heroes going up against The Man, in all The Man’s incarnations.

In all the talk everyone does about snitches being assholes among assholes in the criminal cosmos, it’s important to note that even if a snitch is breaking a pinkie-swear with their blood brothers, they’re doing it to take someone pretty bad out of commission, often at great personal risk. My goal for clients never changes, and I’m sure this is true of criminal defense attorneys everywhere—if the bottom line is that the snitching is going to help you out of a jam, we have to take a cold, hard look at the choice. It’s not something you should decide to do on a whim. Your lawyer should make sure you know what you might be getting into. They’ll tell you if you’ve got a sweet bargaining chip or if you’re asking for a hot date with the local hitman.

No good deed goes unpunished, so make sure you and your attorney survey the options before you go turning tricks for the state. Hopefully, you can absolve yourself of your sins and make the world a better place, but if the risks outweigh the reward—pause a beat to consider before running into the fray, Lancelot. You might bring down the kingdom to swat at a fly.

It’s not the same kind of whistle-blowing moment, however, as learning a giant dog food manufacturer is intentionally selling meat-coated particle board to pet lovers nationwide to turn a higher profit margin. If you gather evidence of that, you probably do want to bring it to the attention of a specialized firm. Those guys will know that the Department of Labor has all kinds of rules in place to help protect whistle-blowers with a righteous cause.

There’s a good reason some specialized law firms refer to their whistle-blowing cases as “complex cases.” A whistle-blowing case can be like a Swiss egg, a Fabergé watch. It’s delicate and time-consuming. Not to mention the fact that with whistle-blowers, it’s all too often a David-and-Goliath situation, with a single person going up against an army in Armani. Guys with perfect hair and shiny teeth who are all too happy to keep the plaintiff’s firm swamped in boxes of discovery from now till the end of days. Before you pucker up those heroic lips and put your lifeguard training to good use, take a quick look around to make sure you’re prepared to agitate the sharks swimming just below the surface of the pond. Your lawyer will be able to measure the dangers, and let you know where and when it’s time to blow.

Like all hardworking Americans, attorneys deserve to get paid. The common knock on us lawyers is that we get paid too much, or that we prosper off the misfortune of others. There are a few bad apples in every bushel, sure, but that doesn’t take away all the benefits of a good apple in your lunch box. Most of us attorneys truly want to be good apples, looking out for your overall health. But meanwhile, we gotta make our lunch money, just like you.

Most attorneys know full well that no one will listen to us complaining about issues related to getting our paydays. Even other attorneys, unless we end up in the bizarre position of engaging one to pursue outstanding fees because we don’t have time to handle our own cases and file suit for delinquents, too.

I know people hear “lawyer” and assume there’s a fine European roadster parked out back. Not always. The average attorney makes a little over $100,000 a year, sure, but a ton of attorneys scrape by with much less, all while paying back massive law school debt.

I know what’s up, though. Your fingers are playing me the tiniest violin. So I’ll say, simply: pay your lawyer. Here are a few things about legal fees my fellow officers of the court might object to me putting out there, but as my prospective client, I want to make sure you’re prepared for everything—including me:

I’m not in the business of giving anyone else business if I don’t have to, but if we can have a brief heart-to-heart here: most attorneys are doing the best job they can. Every day they’re shuffling, shuffling—scheduled court appearances, documents to file, documents to examine, billing to render, one-on-ones with prosecutors or opposing counsel…. Come on, you see what I’m getting at. It’s a job that doesn’t let your mental machinery shut off at night. You’ll lay there and start outlining summary arguments, and before you know it, it’s sunrise again and there’s a new potential client waiting in a holding cell who caught sight of one of your bus bench, billboard, or Internet ads and figures you are just the guy to get him out of this little old “ice-pick mass murder” rap he’s stumbled into.

Most attorneys fit some part of what I’ve described. But there are enough of another kind of lawyer that I’m ready to let you in on some secrets in the hopes that you will learn to spot these schmucks. The type who pad their bills. Who don’t communicate. Who couldn’t care less what happens once you hit the courtroom, but will still bill you like clockwork before the deputies snap the cuffs on your found-guilty wrists. And then, when you get that bill and are simmering with rage that you owe money to such a waste of carbon, they’ll follow up with a collections phone call because the lease payment on their two-year-old BMW is overdue.

Make no mistake: even a lawyer who is a shitty lawyer still passed the bar and knows how to turn his ugly, infuriating loopholes into sparkly, symmetrical little bows before Mr. Average Hockey Dad with a DUI can look up how to dispute bills or actions that shitty lawyer supposedly made while working his case. The lawyer that seemed to be falling asleep in front of the judge will snap right to attention if she thinks her payday might be slipping away.

Here are a few things to consider:

• If you signed a letter of agreement to retain your attorney when you two began your relationship, you should know that letter doesn’t have squat to do with the fairness of whatever fees he or she charges you.Most states have some kind of code of conduct that attorneys are bound to follow, and that code will frequently contain language that essentially says attorneys aren’t allowed to take any illegal, overly burdensome fees. An engagement letter might lay out details of billing, as well as how the case might be pursued, but if those details aren’t reasonable, a court can step in and reduce or even nullify fees.

• If you are in the middle of a case and Bam-Bam, Esquire, takes his club of a law degree and whacks you with a request for a bonus above any agreed-upon fees, get suspicious real quick.Agreed-upon payments have to be honored, sure, but the bonus is usually up to you. I say “usually” because the complicated laws surrounding this sort of thing can be twisted in a lawyer’s favor depending on the state you’re in—but generally, you have to abide by what you signed, and not some later request made because Bam-Bam wasn’t paying attention when you originally explained your situation, and underestimated the amount of work the case was going to entail.

• Study your bills.I don’t care if you think your attorney is the baby Jesus himself doing a solid gold job of dancing into a courtroom victory: look hard at each element of the bill. If you see even one itsy-bitsy thing that makes you say, “huh?”—raise a concern. It’s just like buying a car. Those sneaky salesmen are going to try to charge you “floor plan” and “vehicle preparation” fees to get your new wheels off the showroom linoleum, but if you resist, they’ll take them off lickety-split. Vetting an attorney’s billing is the best way to find some mutually agreeable solution to knock a few bucks off a daunting invoice. And maybe if you’re the first to call bullshit on an item like “domestic pet hair depilatory,” the attorney will see the jig is up and stop trying to be so clever.