The larger and more prominent the target, the more careful everyone becomes.

When someone like Joey Silva gets arrested, especially for murder, it’s inevitably going to be a huge media story. So any prosecutor who brings such a case is not going to do so unless he or she is pretty damn certain they’re going to win.

No young lawyer dreams of one day being just like Marcia Clark or Christopher Darden.

Captain Bradley played the tape for his superior, and as Bradley predicted, the chief was not inclined to interfere with his decision not to make the arrest. Then Bradley brought Wiggins and the FBI into the loop, and they also made no effort to get him to change his mind.

What Bradley didn’t know is that Wiggins did not try to convince Bradley because there was no reason to. He had already decided to nail Silva on drug and murder charges in Federal court, and the tape would be a key piece of evidence. The Bureau would claim jurisdiction by considering it a conspiracy that crossed state lines … many state lines … all the way from Nevada to New Jersey.

Getting the Federal prosecutor to approve it would be an easy maneuver, and Wiggins pulled it off with no problem. He never mentioned the reservations that Bradley and his cops had; those were just theories and strategies, and in no way reflected the evidence.

Once the prosecutor approved Wiggins’ request to arrest Joey Silva, then they moved into the planning stage. They knew it was highly unlikely that Silva would resist, but they would not take any chances. They decided to do it in public, specifically at Patrono’s, an Italian restaurant Silva ate out at virtually every night. If he turned out not to be there that night, then they’d get him at home.

Wiggins sent an agent in plainclothes to the restaurant to sit at the bar and have a meal. He was a new guy, and certainly had never dealt with Joey, so they were certain he wouldn’t be recognized. At seven o’clock, he texted Wiggins to say that Joey had shown up with his two bodyguards, and taken his regular corner table in the back.

Since Wiggins and other agents were waiting in cars within five blocks of the restaurant, it didn’t take them long to get there. Wiggins and his partner pulled up first, leaving their car in front and going in. The two bodyguards were sitting near the door, and they stood up when they saw them. FBI agents as a rule are not hard to spot.

“Don’t do anything stupid, boys,” Wiggins said, and they walked toward Joey.

“Well, look who’s here,” Joey said. “Just in time to ruin my dinner.”

“You’re going to have to get it to go, Joey,” Wiggins said.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Here’s the thing, Joey. You don’t have the right to eat dinner, but you do have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in…”

He interrupted. “What the hell are you doing? Are you arresting me?”

“Now you threw me off, Joey, just when I was on a roll,” Wiggins said, and started again. “You have the right to remain silent…”

As Wiggins was reading, he saw that the bodyguards had taken steps toward him, but they backed off when the restaurant, as if by magic, filled with agents coming in from the front and back, ten of them. No one was going to take any chances with Joey Silva.

Wiggins finished reading Silva his rights, and another handcuffed him. As he was doing so, Joey asked, “What the hell are you charging me with?”

“Drug trafficking and the murder of Daniel Lewinsky,” Wiggins said. “And that’s just the opening serve.”

“Daniel Lewinsky?” For a moment it seemed the name legitimately didn’t register with him.

Then, when it finally did, he asked, “He’s dead?”