OPINION OF THE COURT MARYLAND V. SHATZER 559 U. S. ____ (2010) SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES NO. 08-680 MARYLAND, PETITIONER v. MICHAEL BLAINE
SHATZER, Sr.

															on writ of certiorari to the court of appeals of
maryland

															[February 24, 2010]

															   Justice Scalia delivered the
opinion of the Court.

															   We consider whether a break in
custody ends the presumption of involuntariness established in Edwards v. Arizona , 451 U. S. 477 (1981).

															I

															   In August 2003, a social worker
assigned to the Child Advocacy Center in the Criminal Investigation
Division of the Hagerstown Police Department referred to the
department allegations that respondent Michael Shatzer, Sr., had
sexually abused his 3-year-old son. At that time, Shatzer was
incarcerated at the Maryland Correctional Institution-Hagerstown,
serving a sentence for an unrelated child-sexual-abuse offense.
Detective Shane Blankenship was assigned to the investigation and
interviewed Shatzer at the correctional institution on August 7,
2003. Before asking any questions, Blankenship reviewed Shatzer’s Miranda rights with him, and obtained a written waiver of
those rights. When Blankenship explained that he was there to
question Shatzer about sexually abusing his son, Shatzer expressed
confusion—he had thought Blankenship was an attorney there to
discuss the prior crime for which he was incarcerated. Blankenship
clarified the purpose of his visit, and Shatzer declined to speak
without an attorney. Accordingly, Blankenship ended the interview,
and Shatzer was released back into the general prison population.
Shortly thereafter, Blankenship closed the investigation.

															   Two years and six months later,
the same social worker referred more specific allegations to the
department about the same incident involving Shatzer. Detective
Paul Hoover, from the same division, was assigned to the
investigation. He and the social worker interviewed the victim,
then eight years old, who described the incident in more detail.
With this new information in hand, on March 2, 2006, they went to
the Roxbury Correctional Institute, to which Shatzer had since been
transferred, and interviewed Shatzer in a maintenance room
outfitted with a desk and three chairs. Hoover explained that he
wanted to ask Shatzer about the alleged incident involving
Shatzer’s son. Shatzer was surprised because he thought that the
investigation had been closed, but Hoover explained they had opened
a new file. Hoover then read Shatzer his Miranda rights
and obtained a written waiver on a standard department form.

															   Hoover interrogated Shatzer about the incident
for approximately 30 minutes. Shatzer denied ordering his son to
perform fellatio on him, but admitted to masturbating in front of
his son from a distance of less than three feet. Before the
interview ended, Shatzer agreed to Hoover’s request that he submit
to a polygraph examination. At no point during the interrogation
did Shatzer request to speak with an attorney or refer to his prior
refusal to answer questions without one.

															   Five days later, on March 7, 2006, Hoover and
another detective met with Shatzer at the correctional facility to
administer the polygraph examination. After reading Shatzer his Miranda rights and obtaining a written waiver, the other
detective administered the test and concluded that Shatzer had
failed. When the detectives then questioned Shatzer, he became
upset, started to cry, and incriminated himself by saying,
“ ‘I didn’t force him. I didn’t force him.’ ” 405 Md.
585, 590, 954 A. 2d 1118, 1121 (2008). After making this
inculpatory statement, Shatzer requested an attorney, and Hoover
promptly ended the interrogation.

															   The State’s Attorney for Washington County
charged Shatzer with second-degree sexual offense, sexual child
abuse, second-degree assault, and contributing to conditions
rendering a child in need of assistance. Shatzer moved to suppress
his March 2006 statements pursuant to Edwards . The trial
court held a suppression hearing and later denied Shatzer’s motion.
The Edwards protections did not apply, it reasoned,
because Shatzer had experienced a break in custody for Miranda purposes between the 2003 and 2006 interrogations.
No. 21–K–06–37799 (Cir. Ct. Washington Cty., Md., Sept. 14, 2006),
App. 55. Shatzer pleaded not guilty, waived his right to a jury
trial, and proceeded to a bench trial based on an agreed statement
of facts. In accordance with the agreement, the State described the
interview with the victim and Shatzer’s 2006 statements to the
detectives. Based on the proffered testimony of the victim and the
“admission of the defendant as to the act of masturbation,” the
trial court found Shatzer guilty of sexual child abuse of his
son.[ Footnote 1 ] No.
21–K–06–37799 (Cir. Ct. Washington Cty., Md., Sept. 21, 2006), id. , at 70, 79.

															   Over the dissent of two judges, the Court of
Appeals of Maryland reversed and remanded. The court held that “the
passage of time alone is insufficient to [end] the
protections afforded by Edwards ,” and that, assuming, arguendo, a break-in-custody exception to Edwards existed, Shatzer’s release back into the general prison population
between interrogations did not constitute a break in custody. 405
Md., at 606–607, 954 A. 2d, at 1131. We granted certiorari,
555 U. S. ___ (2009).

															II

															   The Fifth Amendment, which
applies to the States by virtue of the Fourteenth Amendment, Malloy v. Hogan , 378 U. S. 1 , 6 (1964),
provides that “[n]o person . . . shall be compelled in any criminal
case to be a witness against himself.” U. S. Const., Amdt. 5. In Miranda v. Arizona , 384 U. S. 436 (1966),
the Court adopted a set of prophylactic measures to protect a
suspect’s Fifth Amendment right from the “inherently compelling
pressures” of custodial interrogation. Id. , at 467. The
Court observed that “incommunicado interrogation” in an
“unfamiliar,” “police-dominated atmosphere,” id. , at
456–457, involves psychological pressures “which work to undermine
the individual’s will to resist and to compel him to speak where he
would not otherwise do so freely,” id. , at 467.
Consequently, it reasoned, “[u]nless adequate protective devices
are employed to dispel the compulsion inherent in custodial
surroundings, no statement obtained from the defendant can truly be
the product of his free choice.” Id. , at 458.

															   To counteract the coercive
pressure, Miranda announced that police officers must warn
a suspect prior to questioning that he has a right to remain
silent, and a right to the presence of an attorney. Id. ,
at 444. After the warnings are given, if the suspect indicates that
he wishes to remain silent, the interrogation must cease. Id. , at 473–474. Similarly, if the suspect states that he
wants an attorney, the interrogation must cease until an attorney
is present. Id. , at 474. Critically, however, a suspect
can waive these rights. Id. , at 475. To establish a valid
waiver, the State must show that the waiver was knowing,
intelligent, and voluntary under the “high standar[d] of proof for
the waiver of constitutional rights [set forth in] Johnson v. Zerbst , 304 U. S. 458 (1938).” Id., at 475.

															   In Edwards , the Court determined that Zerbst ’s traditional standard for waiver was not
sufficient to protect a suspect’s right to have counsel present at
a subsequent interrogation if he had previously requested counsel;
“additional safeguards” were necessary. 451 U. S., at 484. The
Court therefore superimposed a “second layer of prophylaxis,” McNeil v. Wisconsin , 501 U. S. 171 , 176 (1991). Edwards held:

															“[W]hen an accused has invoked his right to have
counsel present during custodial interrogation, a valid waiver of
that right cannot be established by showing only that he responded
to further police-initiated custodial interrogation even if he has
been advised of his rights. . . . [He] is not subject to further
interrogation by the authorities until counsel has been made
available to him, unless the accused himself initiates further
communication, exchanges, or conversations with the police.” 451 U.
S., at 484–485.

															The rationale of Edwards is that once a
suspect indicates that “he is not capable of undergoing [custodial]
questioning without advice of counsel,” “any subsequent waiver that
has come at the authorities’ behest, and not at the suspect’s own
instigation, is itself the product of the ‘inherently compelling
pressures’ and not the purely voluntary choice of the suspect.” Arizona v. Roberson , 486 U. S. 675 , 681 (1988). Under this
rule, a voluntary Miranda waiver is sufficient at the time
of an initial attempted interrogation to protect a suspect’s right
to have counsel present, but it is not sufficient at the time of
subsequent attempts if the suspect initially requested the presence
of counsel. The implicit assumption, of course, is that the
subsequent requests for interrogation pose a significantly greater
risk of coercion. That increased risk results not only from the
police’s persistence in trying to get the suspect to talk, but also
from the continued pressure that begins when the individual is
taken into custody as a suspect and sought to be
interrogated—pressure likely to “increase as custody is prolonged,” Minnick v. Mississippi , 498 U. S. 146 , 153 (1990). The Edwards presumption of involuntariness ensures that police
will not take advantage of the mounting coercive pressures of
“prolonged police custody,” Roberson , 486 U. S., at 686,
by repeatedly attempting to question a suspect who previously
requested counsel until the suspect is “badgered into submission,” id. , at 690 (Kennedy, J., dissenting).

															   We have frequently emphasized that the Edwards rule is not a constitutional mandate, but
judicially prescribed prophylaxis. See, e.g. , Montejo v. Louisiana , 556 U. S. ___, ___ (2009)
(slip op., at 7–8); Michigan v. Harvey , 494 U. S. 344 , 349
(1990); Solem v. Stumes , 465 U. S. 638 , 644,
n. 4 (1984). Because Edwards is “our rule, not a
constitutional command,” “it is our obligation to justify its
expansion.” Roberson , supra , at 688 (Kennedy, J.,
dissenting). Lower courts have uniformly held that a break in
custody ends the Edwards presumption, see, e.g. , People v. Storm , 28 Cal. 4th 1007, 1023–1024, and
n. 6, 52 P. 3d 52, 61–62, and n. 6 (2002)
(collecting state and federal cases), but we have previously
addressed the issue only in dicta, see McNeil , supra , at 177 ( Edwards applies “assuming there
has been no break in custody”).

															   A judicially crafted rule is “justified only
by reference to its prophylactic purpose,” Davis v. United States , 512 U. S. 452 , 458
(1994) (internal quotation marks omitted), and applies only where
its benefits outweigh its costs, Montejo , supra ,
at ___ (slip op., at 14). We begin with the benefits. Edwards ’ presumption of involuntariness has the incidental
effect of “conserv[ing] judicial resources which would otherwise be
expended in making difficult determinations of voluntariness.” Minnick , supra , at 151. Its fundamental purpose,
however, is to “[p]reserv[e] the integrity of an accused’s choice
to communicate with police only through counsel,” Patterson v. Illinois , 487 U. S. 285 , 291
(1988), by “prevent[ing] police from badgering a defendant into
waiving his previously asserted Miranda rights,” Harvey , supra , at 350. Thus, the benefits of the
rule are measured by the number of coerced confessions it
suppresses that otherwise would have been admitted. See Montejo , supra , at ___ (slip op., at 14).

															   It is easy to believe that a suspect may be
coerced or badgered into abandoning his earlier refusal to be
questioned without counsel in the paradigm Edwards case.
That is a case in which the suspect has been arrested for a
particular crime and is held in uninterrupted pretrial custody
while that crime is being actively investigated. After the initial
interrogation, and up to and including the second one, he remains
cut off from his normal life and companions, “thrust into” and
isolated in an “unfamiliar,” “police-dominated atmosphere,” Miranda , 384 U. S., at 456–457, where his captors “appear
to control [his] fate,” Illinois v. Perkins , 496 U. S. 292 ,
297 (1990). That was the situation confronted by the suspects in Edwards , Roberson , and Minnick , the
three cases in which we have held the Edwards rule
applicable. Edwards was arrested pursuant to a warrant and taken to
a police station, where he was interrogated until he requested
counsel. Edwards , 451 U. S.em>., at 478–479. The
officer ended the interrogation and took him to the county
jail,[ Footnote 2 ] but at 9:15
the next morning, two of the officer’s colleagues reinterrogated
Edwards at the jail. Id., at 479. Roberson was arrested
“at the scene of a just-completed burglary” and interrogated there
until he requested a lawyer. Roberson , 486 U. S., at 678.
A different officer interrogated him three days later while he “was
still in custody pursuant to the arrest.” Ibid. Minnick
was arrested by local police and taken to the San Diego jail, where
two FBI agents interrogated him the next morning until he requested
counsel. Minnick , 498 U. S. , at 148–149. Two days
later a Mississippi Deputy Sheriff reinterrogated him at the jail. Id. , at 149. None of these suspects regained a sense of
control or normalcy after they were initially taken into custody
for the crime under investigation.

															   When, unlike what happened in these three
cases, a suspect has been released from his pretrial custody and
has returned to his normal life for some time before the later
attempted interrogation, there is little reason to think that his
change of heart regarding interrogation without counsel has been
coerced. He has no longer been isolated. He has likely been able to
seek advice from an attorney, family members, and friends.[ Footnote 3 ] And he knows from his
earlier experience that he need only demand counsel to bring the
interrogation to a halt; and that investigative custody does not
last indefinitely. In these circumstances, it is far fetched to
think that a police officer’s asking the suspect whether he would
like to waive his Miranda rights will any more “wear down
the accused,” Smith v. Illinois , 469 U. S. 91 , 98 (1984) (per curiam) , than did the first such request at the
original attempted interrogation—which is of course not deemed
coercive. His change of heart is less likely attributable to
“badgering” than it is to the fact that further deliberation in
familiar surroundings has caused him to believe (rightly or
wrongly) that cooperating with the investigation is in his
interest. Uncritical extension of Edwards to this
situation would not significantly increase the number of genuinely
coerced confessions excluded. The “justification for a conclusive
presumption disappears when application of the presumption will not
reach the correct result most of the time.” Coleman v. Thompson , 501 U. S. 722 , 737
(1991).

															   At the same time that extending the Edwards rule yields diminished benefits, extending the
rule also increases its costs: the in-fact voluntary confessions it
excludes from trial, and the voluntary confessions it deters law
enforcement officers from even trying to obtain. Voluntary
confessions are not merely “a proper element in law enforcement,” Miranda , supra , at 478, they are an “unmitigated
good,” McNeil , 501 U. S., at 181, “ ‘essential to
society’s compelling interest in finding, convicting, and punishing
those who violate the law,’ ” ibid. (quoting Moran v. Burbine , 475 U. S. 412 , 426
(1986)).

															   The only logical endpoint of Edwards disability is termination of Miranda custody and any of
its lingering effects. Without that limitation—and barring some
purely arbitrary time-limit[ Footnote 4 ]—every Edwards prohibition of
custodial interrogation of a particular suspect would be eternal.
The prohibition applies, of course, when the subsequent
interrogation pertains to a different crime, Roberson , supra , when it is conducted by a different law enforcement
authority, Minnick , 498 U. S. 146 , and even when the
suspect has met with an attorney after the first interrogation, ibid. And it not only prevents questioning ex
ante; it would render invalid ex post ,
confessions invited and obtained from suspects who (unbeknownst to
the interrogators) have acquired Edwards immunity
previously in connection with any offense in any
jurisdiction.[ Footnote 5 ] In a
country that harbors a large number of repeat offenders,[ Footnote 6 ] this consequence is
disastrous.

															   We conclude that such an extension of Edwards is not justified; we have opened its “protective
umbrella,” Solem , 465 U. S., at 644, n. 4, far
enough. The protections offered by Miranda , which we have
deemed sufficient to ensure that the police respect the suspect’s
desire to have an attorney present the first time police
interrogate him, adequately ensure that result when a suspect who
initially requested counsel is reinterrogated after a break in
custody that is of sufficient duration to dissipate its coercive
effects.

															   If Shatzer’s return to the general prison
population qualified as a break in custody (a question we address
in Part III, infra ), there is no doubt that it lasted long
enough (2 years) to meet that durational requirement. But what
about a break that has lasted only one year? Or only one week? It
is impractical to leave the answer to that question for
clarification in future case-by-case adjudication; law enforcement
officers need to know, with certainty and beforehand, when renewed
interrogation is lawful. And while it is certainly unusual for this
Court to set forth precise time limits governing police action, it
is not unheard-of. In County of Riverside v. McLaughlin , 500 U. S. 44 (1991), we
specified 48 hours as the time within which the police must comply
with the requirement of Gerstein v. Pugh , 420 U. S. 103 (1975), that a person arrested without a warrant be brought before
a magistrate to establish probable cause for continued
detention.

															   Like McLaughlin , this is a case in
which the requisite police action (there, presentation to a
magistrate; here, abstention from further interrogation) has not
been prescribed by statute but has been established by opinion of
this Court. We think it appropriate to specify a period of time to
avoid the consequence that continuation of the Edwards presumption “will not reach the correct result most of the time.” Coleman , supra , at 737. It seems to us that
period is 14 days. That provides plenty of time for the suspect to
get reacclimated to his normal life, to consult with friends and
counsel, and to shake off any residual coercive effects of his
prior custody.

															   The 14-day limitation meets Shatzer’s concern
that a break-in-custody rule lends itself to police abuse. He
envisions that once a suspect invokes his Miranda right to
counsel, the police will release the suspect briefly (to end the Edwards presumption) and then promptly bring him back into
custody for reinterrogation. But once the suspect has been out of
custody long enough (14 days) to eliminate its coercive effect,
there will be nothing to gain by such gamesmanship—nothing, that
is, except the entirely appropriate gain of being able to
interrogate a suspect who has made a valid waiver of his Miranda rights.[ Footnote
7 ]

															   Shatzer argues that ending the Edwards protections at a break in custody will undermine Edwards ’ purpose to conserve judicial resources. To be
sure, we have said that “[t]he merit of the Edwards decision lies in the clarity of its command and the certainty of
its application.” Minnick , 498 U. S., at 151. But clarity
and certainty are not goals in themselves. They are valuable only
when they reasonably further the achievement of some substantive
end—here, the exclusion of compelled confessions. Confessions
obtained after a 2-week break in custody and a waiver of Miranda rights are most unlikely to be compelled, and
hence are unreasonably excluded. In any case, a break-in-custody
exception will dim only marginally, if at all, the bright-line
nature of Edwards . In every case involving Edwards , the courts must determine whether the suspect was
in custody when he requested counsel and when he later made the
statements he seeks to suppress. Now, in cases where there is an
alleged break in custody, they simply have to repeat the inquiry
for the time between the initial invocation and reinterrogation. In
most cases that determination will be easy. And when it is
determined that the defendant pleading Edwards has been
out of custody for two weeks before the contested interrogation,
the court is spared the fact-intensive inquiry into whether he
ever, anywhere, asserted his Miranda right to counsel.

															III

															   The facts of this case present an
additional issue. No one questions that Shatzer was in custody for Miranda purposes during the interviews with Detective
Blankenship in 2003 and Detective Hoover in 2006. Likewise, no one
questions that Shatzer triggered the Edwards protections
when, according to Detective Blankenship’s notes of the 2003
interview, he stated that “ ‘he would not talk about this case
without having an attorney present,’ ” 405 Md., at 589, 954
A. 2d, at 1120. After the 2003 interview, Shatzer was released
back into the general prison population where he was serving an
unrelated sentence. The issue is whether that constitutes a break
in Miranda custody.

															   We have never decided whether
incarceration constitutes custody for Miranda purposes,
and have indeed explicitly declined to address the issue. See Perkins , 496 U. S., at 299. See also Bradley v. Ohio , 497
U. S. 1011 , 1013 (1990) (Marshall, J., dissenting from denial
of certiorari). Whether it does depends upon whether it exerts the
coercive pressure that Miranda was designed to guard
against—the “danger of coercion [that] results from the interaction of custody and official interrogation.” Perkins , supra , at 297 (emphasis added). To
determine whether a suspect was in Miranda custody we have
asked whether “there is a ‘formal arrest or restraint on freedom of
movement’ of the degree associated with a formal arrest.” New
York v. Quarles , 467 U. S. 649 , 655
(1984); see also Stansbury v. California , 511 U. S. 318 ,
322 (1994) (per curiam). This test, no doubt, is satisfied
by all forms of incarceration. Our cases make clear, however, that
the freedom-of-movement test identifies only a necessary and not a
sufficient condition for Miranda custody. We have declined
to accord it “talismanic power,” because Miranda is to be
enforced “only in those types of situations in which the concerns
that powered the decision are implicated.” Berkemer v. McCarty , 468 U. S. 420 , 437
(1984). Thus, the temporary and relatively nonthreatening detention
involved in a traffic stop or Terry stop, see Terry v. Ohio , 392 U. S. 1 (1968), does
not constitute Miranda custody. McCarty , supra , at 439–440. See also Perkins , supra , at 296.

															   Here, we are addressing the interim period
during which a suspect was not interrogated, but was subject to a
baseline set of restraints imposed pursuant to a prior conviction.
Without minimizing the harsh realities of incarceration, we think
lawful imprisonment imposed upon conviction of a crime does not
create the coercive pressures identified in Miranda .

															   Interrogated suspects who have previously been
convicted of crime live in prison. When they are released back into
the general prison population, they return to their accustomed
surroundings and daily routine—they regain the degree of control
they had over their lives prior to the interrogation. Sentenced
prisoners, in contrast to the Miranda paradigm, are not
isolated with their accusers. They live among other inmates,
guards, and workers, and often can receive visitors and communicate
with people on the outside by mail or telephone.

															   Their detention, moreover, is relatively
disconnected from their prior unwillingness to cooperate in an
investigation. The former interrogator has no power to increase the
duration of incarceration, which was determined at
sentencing.[ Footnote 8 ] And
even where the possibility of parole exists, the former
interrogator has no apparent power to decrease the time served.
This is in stark contrast to the circumstances faced by the
defendants in Edwards , Roberson , and Minnick , whose continued detention as suspects rested with
those controlling their interrogation, and who confronted the
uncertainties of what final charges they would face, whether they
would be convicted, and what sentence they would receive.

															   Shatzer’s experience illustrates the vast
differences between Miranda custody and incarceration
pursuant to conviction. At the time of the 2003 attempted
interrogation, Shatzer was already serving a sentence for a prior
conviction. After that, he returned to the general prison
population in the Maryland Correctional Institution-Hagerstown and
was later transferred, for unrelated reasons, down the street to
the Roxbury Correctional Institute. Both are medium-security state
correctional facilities. See Maryland Div. of Correction Inmate
Handbook 7 (2007), online at http://dpscs.md.gov/rehabservs/
doc/pdfs/2007_Inmate_Handbook.pdf (all Internet materials as
visited Feb. 22, 2010, and available in Clerk of Court’s case
file). Inmates in these facilities generally can visit the library
each week, id. , at 28; have regular exercise and
recreation periods, id. , at 17; can participate in basic
adult education and occupational training, id. , at 26, 7;
are able to send and receive mail, id. , at 21–22, 16; and
are allowed to receive visitors twice a week, see
http://dpscs.md.gov/locations/mcih.shtml; http://www.
dpscs.state.md.us/locations/rci.shtml. His continued detention
after the 2003 interrogation did not depend on what he said (or did
not say) to Detective Blankenship, and he has not alleged that he
was placed in a higher level of security or faced any continuing
restraints as a result of the 2003 interrogation. The “inherently
compelling pressures” of custodial interrogation ended when he
returned to his normal life.

															IV

															   A few words in response to
Justice Stevens’ concurrence: It claims we ignore that “[w]hen
police tell an indigent suspect that he has the right to an
attorney” and then “reinterrogate” him without providing a lawyer,
“the suspect is likely to feel that the police lied to him and that
he really does not have any right to a lawyer.” Post , at 2
(opinion concurring in judgment) (hereinafter concurrence). See
also post, at 4, 7, n. 11, 11, n. 16. The
fallacy here is that we are not talking about “reinterrogating” the
suspect; we are talking about asking his permission to be
interrogated. An officer has in no sense lied to a suspect when,
after advising, as Miranda requires, “You have the right
to remain silent, and if you choose to speak you have the right to
the presence of an attorney,” he promptly ends the attempted
interrogation because the suspect declines to speak without counsel
present, and then, two weeks later, reapproaches the suspect and
asks, “Are you now willing to speak without a lawyer present?”

															   The “concer[n] that motivated the Edwards line of cases,” post , at 2–3, n. 2,
is that the suspect will be coerced into saying yes. That concern
guides our decision today. Contrary to the concurrence’s
conclusion, post , at 3, 5–6, there is no reason to believe
a suspect will view confession as “ ‘the only way to end his
interrogation’ ” when, before the interrogation begins, he is
told that he can avoid it by simply requesting that he not be
interrogated without counsel present—an option that worked before.
If, as the concurrence argues will often be the case, post , at 5, a break in custody does not change the
suspect’s mind, he need only say so.

															   The concurrence also accuses the
Court of “ignor[ing] that when a suspect asks for counsel, until
his request is answered, there are still the same ‘inherently
compelling’ pressures of custodial interrogation on which the Miranda line of cases is based.” Post , at 4. We
do not ignore these pressures; nor do we suggest that they
disappear when custody is recommenced after a break, see post , at 5. But if those pressures are merely “the same”
as before, then Miranda provides sufficient protection—as
it did before. The Edwards presumption of involuntariness
is justified only in circumstances where the coercive pressures
have increased so much that suspects’ waivers of Miranda rights are likely to be involuntary most of the time. Contrary to
the concurrence’s suggestion, post , at 3, it is only in
those narrow circumstances—when custody is unbroken—that the Court
has concluded a “fresh se[t] of Miranda warnings” is not
sufficient. See Roberson , 486 U. S., at 686.

															   In the last analysis, it turns out that the
concurrence accepts our principal points. It agrees that Edwards prophylaxis is not perpetual; it agrees that a
break in custody reduces the inherently compelling pressure upon
which Edwards was based; it agrees that Shatzer’s release
back into the general prison population constituted a break in
custody; and it agrees that in this case the break was long enough
to render Edwards inapplicable. Post , at 10–12.
We differ in two respects: Instead of terminating Edwards protection when the custodial pressures that were the basis for
that protection dissipate, the concurrence would terminate it when
the suspect would no longer “feel that he has ‘been denied the
counsel he has clearly requested,’ ” post , at 11.
This is entirely unrelated to the rationale of Edwards . If
confidence in the police’s promise to provide counsel were the
touchstone, Edwards would not have applied in Minnick , where the suspect in continuing custody actually
met with appointed counsel. The concurrence’s rule is also entirely
unrelated to the existence of a break in custody. While that may
relieve the accumulated coercive pressures of custody that are the
foundation for Edwards , it is hard to see how it bolsters
the suspect’s confidence that if he asks for counsel he will get
one.

															   And secondly, the concurrence differs from us
in declining to say how long after a break in custody the
termination of Edwards protection occurs. Two and one-half
years, it says, is clearly enough—but it gives law enforcement
authorities no further guidance. The concurrence criticizes our use
of 14 days as arbitrary and unexplained, post , at 5, and
n. 7. But in fact that rests upon the same basis as the
concurrence’s own approval of a 2 1 2-year break in custody: how much time will justify “treating
the second interrogation as no more coercive than the first,” post, at 10. Failure to say where the line falls short of
2 1 2 years, and leaving that for
future case-by-case determination, is certainly less helpful, but
not at all less arbitrary. *  *  * Because Shatzer experienced
a break in Miranda custody lasting more than two weeks
between the first and second attempts at interrogation, Edwards does not mandate suppression of his March 2006
statements. Accordingly, we reverse the judgment of the Court of
Appeals of Maryland, and remand the case for further proceedings
not inconsistent with this opinion. It is so
ordered. Footnote
1 The State filed a nolle
prosequi to the second-degree sexual offense charge, and
consented to dismissal of the misdemeanor charges as barred by the
statute of limitations. Footnote
2 Jail is a “local government’s detention
center where persons awaiting trial or those convicted of
misdemeanors are confined.” Black’s Law Dictionary 910 (9th ed.
2009). Prison, by contrast, is a “state or federal facility of
confinement for convicted criminals, esp. felons.” Id. , at
1314. Footnote
3 Justice Stevens points out, post , at 7 (opinion concurring in judgment), that in Minnick , actual pre-reinterrogation consultation with an
attorney during continued custody did not suffice to avoid
application of Edwards . That does not mean that the
ability to consult freely with attorneys and others does not reduce
the level of coercion at all, or that it is “only questionably
relevant,” post , at 7, to whether termination of custody
reduces the coercive pressure that is the basis for Edwards’ super-prophylactic
rule. Footnote
4 The State’s alternative argument in the
present case is that the substantial lapse in time between the 2003
and 2006 attempts at interrogation independently ended the Edwards presumption. Our disposition makes it unnecessary
to address that argument. Footnote
5 This assumes that Roberson ’s
extension of Edwards to subsequent interrogation for a
different crime, and Minnick ’s extension of Edwards to subsequent interrogation by a different law
enforcement agency would apply even when the place of custody and
the identity of the custodial agency are not the same (as they were
in Roberson and Minnick ) as those of the original
interrogation. That assumption would seem reasonable if the Edwards- suspending effect of a termination of custody is
rejected. Reinterrogation in different custody or by a different
interrogating agency would seem, if anything, less likely
than termination of custody to reduce coercive pressures. At the
original site, and with respect to the original interrogating
agency, the suspect has already experienced cessation of
interrogation when he demands counsel—which he may have no reason
to expect elsewhere. Footnote
6 According to a recent study, 67.5% of
prisoners released from 15 States in 1994 were rearrested within
three years. See Dept. of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics,
Special Report, Recidivism of Prisoners Released in 1994 (NCJ
193427, 2002). Footnote
7 A defendant who experiences a 14-day
break in custody after invoking the Miranda right to
counsel is not left without protection. Edwards establishes a presumption that a suspect’s waiver of Miranda rights is involuntary. See Arizona v. Roberson , 486 U. S. 675 , 681 (1988).
Even without this “second layer of prophylaxis,” McNeil v. Wisconsin , 501 U. S. 171 , 176 (1991), a defendant
is still free to claim the prophylactic protection of Miranda —arguing that his waiver of Miranda rights
was in fact involuntary under Johnson v. Zerbst , 304 U. S. 458 (1938). See Miranda , 384 U. S., at
475. Footnote
8 We distinguish the duration of
incarceration from the duration of what might be termed
interrogative custody. When a prisoner is removed from the general
prison population and taken to a separate location for questioning,
the duration of that separation is assuredly dependent
upon his interrogators. For which reason once he has asserted a
refusal to speak without assistance of counsel Edwards prevents any efforts to get him to change his mind during that
interrogative custody. OPINION OF THOMAS, J. MARYLAND V. SHATZER 559 U. S. ____ (2010) SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES NO. 08-680 MARYLAND, PETITIONER v. MICHAEL BLAINE
SHATZER, Sr.

															on writ of certiorari to the court of appeals of
maryland

															[February 24, 2010]

															   Justice Thomas, concurring in
part and concurring in the judgment.

															   I join Part III of the Court’s
opinion, which holds that release into the general prison
population constitutes a break in custody. I do not join the
Court’s decision to extend the presumption of involuntariness
established in Edwards v. Arizona , 451 U. S. 477 (1981),
for 14 days after custody ends.

															   It is not apparent to me that the presumption
of involuntariness the Court recognized in Edwards is
justifiable even in the custodial setting to which Edwards applies it. See, e.g., Minnick v. Mississippi , 498 U. S. 146 , 160
(1990) (Scalia, J., dissenting). Accordingly, I would not extend
the Edwards rule “beyond the circumstances present in Edwards itself.” Id. , at 162. But even if one
believes that the Court is obliged to apply Edwards to any
case involving continuing custody, the Court’s opinion today goes
well beyond that. It extends the presumption of involuntariness Edwards applies in custodial settings to interrogations
that occur after custody ends.

															   The Court concedes that this extension, like
the Edwards presumption itself, is not constitutionally
required. The Court nevertheless defends the extension as a
judicially created prophylaxis against compelled confessions. Even
if one accepts that such prophylaxis is both permissible generally
and advisable for some period following a break in
custody,[ Footnote 1 ] the
Court’s 14-day rule fails to satisfy the criteria our precedents
establish for the judicial creation of such a safeguard.

															   Our precedents insist that judicially created
prophylactic rules like those in Edwards and Miranda v. Arizona , 384 U. S. 436 (1966), maintain “the
closest possible fit” between the rule and the Fifth Amendment
interests they seek to protect. United States v. Patane , 542
U. S. 630 , 640–641 (2004) (plurality opinion); see generally Montejo v. Louisiana , 556 U. S. ___, ___ (2009)
(slip op., at 18); Chavez v. Martinez , 538 U. S. 760 , 772
(2003) (plurality opinion). The Court’s 14-day rule does not
satisfy this test. The Court relates its 14-day rule to the Fifth
Amendment simply by asserting that 14 days between release and
recapture should provide “plenty of time for the suspect … to shake
off any residual coercive effects of his prior custody,” ante , at 11.

															   This ipse dixit does not explain why
extending the Edwards presumption for 14 days following a
break in custody—as opposed to 0, 10, or 100 days—provides the
“closest possible fit” with the Self-Incrimination Clause, Patane , supra , at 640–641; see ante , at
11 (merely stating that “[i]t seems to us that” the appropriate
“period is 14 days”). Nor does it explain how the benefits of a
prophylactic 14-day rule (either on its own terms or compared with
other possible rules) “outweigh its costs” (which would include the
loss of law enforcement information as well as the exclusion of
confessions that are in fact voluntary). Ante , at 6
(citing Montejo , supra , at __ (slip op., at
14)).

															   To be sure, the Court’s rule has the benefit
of providing a bright line. Ante , at 12. But bright-line
rules are not necessary to prevent Fifth Amendment violations, as
the Court has made clear when refusing to adopt such rules in cases
involving other Miranda rights. See, e.g ., Michigan v. Mosley , 423 U. S. 96 , 103–104
(1975). And an otherwise arbitrary rule is not justifiable merely
because it gives clear instruction to law enforcement
officers.[ Footnote 2 ]

															   As the Court concedes, “clarity and certainty
are not goals in themselves. They are valuable only when they
reasonably further the achievement of some substantive end—here,
the exclusion of compelled confessions” that the Fifth Amendment
prohibits. Ante , at 12. The Court’s arbitrary 14-day rule
fails this test, even under the relatively permissive criteria set
forth in our precedents. Accordingly, I do not join that portion of
the Court’s opinion. Footnote 1 At a minimum the latter proposition is
questionable. I concede that some police officers might badger a
suspect during a subsequent interrogation after a break in custody,
or might use catch-and-release tactics to suggest they will not
take no for an answer. But if a suspect reenters custody after
being questioned and released, he need only invoke his right to
counsel to ensure Edwards ’ protection for the duration of
the subsequent detention. And, if law enforcement officers
repeatedly release and recapture a suspect to wear down his
will—such that his participation in a subsequent interrogation is
no longer truly voluntary—the “high standar[d] of proof for the
waiver of constitutional rights [set forth in] Johnson v. Zerbst , 304
U. S. 458 (1938),” will protect against the admission of the
suspect’s statements in court. Miranda v. Arizona , 384 U. S. 436 , 475 (1966). The Zerbst inquiry takes into account the totality of the
circumstances surrounding the waiver—including any improper
pressures by police. See id. , at 464; cf. ante ,
at 11–12, n. 6 (stating that “[e]ven without [Edwards’] second layer of prophylaxis, a defendant is
still free to claim the prophylactic protection of Miranda —arguing that his waiver of Miranda rights
was in fact involuntary under Johnson v. Zerbst ”
(internal quotation marks and citation omitted)). Footnote 2 Though the Court asserts that its 14-day rule
will tell “law enforcement officers . . . with certainty and
beforehand, when renewed interrogation is lawful,” ante ,
at 10, that is not so clear. Determining whether a suspect was
previously in custody, and when the suspect was released, may be
difficult without questioning the suspect, especially if state and
federal authorities are conducting simultaneous investigations. STEVENS, J., CONCURRING IN JUDGMENT MARYLAND V. SHATZER 559 U. S. ____ (2010) SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES NO. 08-680 MARYLAND, PETITIONER v. MICHAEL BLAINE
SHATZER, Sr.

															on writ of certiorari to the court of appeals of
maryland

															[February 24, 2010]

															   Justice Stevens, concurring in
the judgment.

															   While I agree that the
presumption from Edwards v. Arizona , 451 U. S. 477 (1981), is
not “eternal,” ante , at 9–10, and does not mandate
suppression of Shatzer’s statement made after a 2-year break in
custody, I do not agree with the Court’s newly announced rule: that Edwards always ceases to apply when there is a 14-day
break in custody, ante , at 11.

															   In conducting its “cost-benefit” analysis, the
Court demeans Edwards as a “ ‘second layer’ ” of
“judicially prescribed prophylaxis,” ante , at 5, 6, 12,
n. 7; see also ante , at 6 (describing Edwards as “ ‘our rule, not a constitutional
command’ ” (quoting Arizona v. Roberson , 486 U. S. 675 , 688 (1988) (Kennedy,
J., dissenting))). The source of the holdings in the long line of
cases that includes both Edwards and Miranda ,
however, is the Fifth Amendment’s protection against compelled
self-incrimination applied to the “compulsion inherent in
custodial” interrogation, Miranda v. Arizona , 384 U. S. 436 , 458 (1966), and the
“significan[ce]” of “the assertion of the right to counsel,” Edwards , 451 U. S., at 485.[ Footnote 1 ] The Court’s analysis today is insufficiently
sensitive to the concerns that motivated the Edwards line
of cases.

															I

															   The most troubling aspect of the
Court’s time-based rule is that it disregards the compulsion caused
by a second (or third, or fourth) interrogation of an indigent
suspect who was told that if he requests a lawyer, one will be
provided for him. When police tell an indigent suspect that he has
the right to an attorney, that he is not required to speak without
an attorney present, and that an attorney will be provided to him
at no cost before questioning, the police have made a significant
promise. If they cease questioning and then reinterrogate the
suspect 14 days later without providing him with a lawyer, the
suspect is likely to feel that the police lied to him and that he
really does not have any right to a lawyer.[ Footnote 2 ]

															   When officers informed Shatzer of
his rights during the first interrogation, they presumably informed
him that if he requested an attorney, one would be appointed for
him before he was asked any further questions. But if an indigent
suspect requests a lawyer, “any further interrogation” (even 14
days later) “without counsel having been provided will surely
exacerbate whatever compulsion to speak the suspect may be
feeling.” Roberson , 486 U. S., at 686. When police have
not honored an earlier commitment to provide a detainee with a
lawyer, the detainee likely will “understan[d] his (expressed)
wishes to have been ignored” and “may well see further objection as
futile and confession (true or not) as the only way to end his
interrogation.” Davis v. United States , 512 U. S. 452 , 472–473
(1994) (Souter, J., concurring in judgment). Cf. Cooper v. Dupnik , 963 F. 2d 1220, 1225 (CA9 1992) (en banc)
(describing an elaborate police task force plan to ignore a
suspect’s requests for counsel, on the theory that such would
induce hopelessness and thereby elicit an admission). Simply giving
a “fresh se[t] of Miranda warnings” will not
“ ‘reassure’ a suspect who has been denied the counsel he has
clearly requested that his rights have remained untrammeled.” Roberson , 486 U. S., at 686.

															II

															   The Court never explains why its
rule cannot depend on, in addition to a break in custody and
passage of time, a concrete event or state of affairs, such as the
police having honored their commitment to provide counsel. Instead,
the Court simply decides to create a time-based rule, and in so
doing, disregards much of the analysis upon which Edwards and subsequent decisions were based. “[T]he assertion of the right
to counsel” “[i]s a significant event.”[ Footnote 3 ] Edwards , 451 U. S., at 485. As the
Court today acknowledges, the right to counsel, like the right to
remain silent, is one that police may “coerc[e] or badge[r],” ante , at 7, a suspect into abandoning.[ Footnote 4 ] However, as discussed above, the
Court ignores the effects not of badgering but of reinterrogating a
suspect who took the police at their word that he need not answer
questions without an attorney present. See Roberson , 486
U. S., at 686. The Court, moreover, ignores that when a suspect
asks for counsel, until his request is answered, there are still
the same “inherently compelling” pressures of custodial
interrogation on which the Miranda line of cases is based,
see 486 U. S., at 681,[ Footnote
5 ] and that the concern about compulsion is especially serious
for a detainee who has requested a lawyer, an act that signals his
“inability to cope with the pressures of custodial interrogation,” id. , at 686.[ Footnote
6 ]

															   Instead of deferring to these
well-settled understandings of the Edwards rule, the Court
engages in its own speculation that a 14-day break in custody
eliminates the compulsion that animated Edwards. But its
opinion gives no strong basis for believing that this is the
case.[ Footnote 7 ] A 14-day
break in custody does not eliminate the rationale for the initial Edwards rule: The detainee has been told that he may
remain silent and speak only through a lawyer and that if he cannot
afford an attorney, one will be provided for him. He has asked for
a lawyer. He does not have one. He is in custody. And police are
still questioning him. A 14-day break in custody does not change
the fact that custodial interrogation is inherently compelling. It
is unlikely to change the fact that a detainee “considers himself
unable to deal with the pressures of custodial interrogation
without legal assistance.” Roberson , 486 U. S., at
683.[ Footnote 8 ] And in some
instances, a 14-day break in custody may make matters
worse [ Footnote 9 ] “[w]hen
a suspect understands his (expressed) wishes to have been ignored”
and thus “may well see further objection as futile and confession
(true or not) as the only way to end his interrogation.” Davis , 512 U. S., at 472–473 (Souter, J., concurring in
judgment).[ Footnote 10 ]

															   The Court ignores these understandings from
the Edwards line of cases and instead speculates that if a
suspect is reinterrogated and eventually talks, it must be that
“further deliberation in familiar surroundings has caused him to
believe (rightly or wrongly) that cooperating with the
investigation is in his interest.” Ante , at 9. But it is
not apparent why that is the case. The answer, we are told, is that
once a suspect has been out of Miranda custody for 14
days, “[h]e has likely been able to seek advice from an attorney,
family members, and friends.” Ante , at 8. This
speculation, however, is overconfident and only questionably
relevant. As a factual matter, we do not know whether the defendant
has been able to seek advice: First of all, suspects are told that
if they cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for them. Yet
under the majority’s rule, an indigent suspect who took the police
at their word when he asked for a lawyer will nonetheless be
assumed to have “been able to seek advice from an attorney.”
Second, even suspects who are not indigent cannot necessarily
access legal advice (or social advice as the Court presumes) within
14 days. Third, suspects may not realize that they need to
seek advice from an attorney. Unless police warn suspects that the
interrogation will resume in 14 days, why contact a lawyer? When a
suspect is let go, he may assume that the police were satisfied. In
any event, it is not apparent why interim advice matters.[ Footnote 11 ] In Minnick v. Mississippi , 498 U. S. 146 , 153 (1990), we held
that it is not sufficient that a detainee happened to speak at some
point with a lawyer. See ibid. (noting that “consultation
with an attorney” does not prevent “persistent attempts by
officials to persuade [a suspect] to waive his rights” or shield
against the “coercive pressures that accompany custody”). If the
actual interim advice of an attorney is not sufficient, the
hypothetical, interim advice of “an attorney, family members, and
friends,” ante , at 8, is not enough.

															   The many problems with the Court’s new rule
are exacerbated in the very situation in this case: a suspect who
is in prison. Even if, as the Court assumes, a trip to one’s home
significantly changes the Edwards calculus, a trip to
one’s prison cell is not the same. A prisoner’s freedom is severely
limited, and his entire life remains subject to government control.
Such an environment is not conducive to “shak[ing] off any residual
coercive effects of his prior custody.” Ante , at
11.[ Footnote 12 ] Nor can a
prisoner easily “seek advice from an attorney, family members, and
friends,” ante , at 8, especially not within 14 days;
prisoners are frequently subject to restrictions on communications.
Nor, in most cases, can he live comfortably knowing that he cannot
be badgered by police; prison is not like a normal situation in
which a suspect “is in control, and need only shut his door or walk
away to avoid police badgering.” Montejo v. Louisiana , 556 U. S. ___, ___ (2009) (slip op., at 16).
Indeed, for a person whose every move is controlled by the State,
it is likely that “his sense of dependence on, and trust in,
counsel as the guardian of his interests in dealing with government
officials intensified.” United States v. Green ,
592 A. 2d 985, 989 (D. C. 1991); cf. Minnick ,
498 U. S., at 153 (explaining that coercive pressures “may increase
as custody is prolonged”).[ Footnote 13 ] The Court ignores these realities of prison,
and instead rests its argument on the supposition that a prisoner’s
“detention … is relatively disconnected from their prior
unwillingness to cooperate in an investigation.” Ante , at
14. But that is not necessarily the case. Prisoners are uniquely
vulnerable to the officials who control every aspect of their
lives; prison guards may not look kindly upon a prisoner who
refuses to cooperate with police. And cooperation frequently is
relevant to whether the prisoner can obtain parole. See, e.g. , Code of Md. Regs., tit. 12, §08.01.18(A)(3) (2008).
Moreover, even if it is true as a factual matter that a prisoner’s
fate is not controlled by the police who come to interrogate him,
how is the prisoner supposed to know that? As the Court itself
admits, compulsion is likely when a suspect’s “captors appear to
control [his] fate,” ante , at 7 (internal quotation marks
omitted). But when a guard informs a suspect that he must go speak
with police, it will “appear” to the prisoner that the guard and
police are not independent. “Questioning by captors, who appear to control the suspect’s fate, may create mutually
reinforcing pressures that the Court has assumed will weaken the
suspect’s will.” Illinois v. Perkins , 496 U. S. 292 , 297
(1990) (emphasis added).[ Footnote 14 ]

															III

															   Because, at the very least, we do
not know whether Shatzer could obtain a lawyer, and thus would have
felt that police had lied about providing one, I cannot join the
Court’s opinion. I concur in today’s judgment, however, on another
ground: Even if Shatzer could not consult a lawyer and the police
never provided him one, the 2-year break in custody is a basis for
treating the second interrogation as no more coercive than the
first. Neither a break in custody nor the passage of time has an
inherent, curative power. But certain things change over time. An
indigent suspect who took police at their word that they would
provide an attorney probably will feel that he has “been denied the
counsel he has clearly requested,” Roberson , 486 U. S., at
686, when police begin to question him, without a lawyer, only 14
days later.[ Footnote 15 ]
But, when a suspect has been left alone for a significant period of
time, he is not as likely to draw such conclusions when the police
interrogate him again.[ Footnote
16 ] It is concededly “impossible to determine with precision”
where to draw such a line. Barker v. Wingo , 407 U. S. 514 ,
521 (1972). In the case before us, however, the suspect was
returned to the general prison population for 2 years. I am
convinced that this period of time is sufficient. I therefore
concur in the judgment. Footnote 1 See Dickerson v. United
States , 530 U.
S. 428 , 438 (2000) (holding that “the protections announced in Miranda ” are “constitutionally required”); Shea v. Louisiana , 470 U. S. 51 , 52 (1985)
(“In Edwards … , this Court ruled that a criminal
defendant’s rights under the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments were
violated by the use of his confession obtained by police-instigated
interrogation—without counsel present—after he requested an
attorney”); Oregon v. Bradshaw , 462 U. S. 1039 , 1043
(1983) (plurality opinion) (“[The] subsequent incriminating
statements made without [an] attorney present violated the rights
secured to the defendant by the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments to
the United States Constitution”); Miranda , 384 U. S., at
458 (examining the “history and precedent underlying the
Self-Incrimination Clause to determine its applicability in this
situation”). Footnote 2 The Court states that this argument rests on
a “fallacy” because “we are not talking about ‘reinterrogating’ the
suspect; we are talking about asking his permission to be
interrogated.” Ante , at 16 (emphasis deleted). Because,
however, a suspect always has the right to remain silent, this is a
distinction without a difference: Any time that the police
interrogate or reinterrogate, and read a suspect his Miranda rights, the suspect may decline to speak. And if
this is a “fallacy,” it is the same “fallacy” upon which this Court
has relied in the Edwards line of cases that held that
police may not continue to interrogate a suspect who has requested
a lawyer: Police may not continue to ask such a suspect whether
they may interrogate him until that suspect has a lawyer present.
The Court’s apparent belief that this is a “fallacy” only
underscores my concern that its analysis is insufficiently
sensitive to the concerns that motivated the Edwards line
of cases. Footnote 3 Indeed, a lawyer has a “unique ability to
protect the Fifth Amendment rights of a client undergoing custodial
interrogation.” Fare v. Michael C. , 442 U. S. 707 , 719
(1979). Counsel can curb an officer’s overbearing conduct, advise a
suspect of his rights, and ensure that there is an accurate record
of any interrogation. “Because of this special ability of the
lawyer to help the client preserve his Fifth Amendment rights once
the client becomes enmeshed in the adversary process, the Court
found that the right to have counsel present at the interrogation
is indispensible to the protection of the Fifth Amendment
privilege.” Arizona v. Roberson , 486 U. S. 675 , 682, n. 4 (1988)
(internal quotation marks omitted). Thus, “once the accused has
requested counsel,” courts must be especially wary of “coercive
form[s] of custodial interrogation.” Bradshaw , 462 U. S.,
at 1051 (Powell, J., concurring in judgment). Footnote 4 See Michigan v. Harvey , 494 U. S. 344 ,
350 (1990) (subsequent confession suggests the police “badger[ed] a
defendant into waiving his previously asserted Miranda rights”). Footnote 5 See Minnick v. Mississippi , 498 U. S. 146 , 155 (1990) (“[N]either
admissions nor waivers are effective unless there are both
particular and systemic assurances that the coercive pressures of
custody were not the inducing cause”); cf. Smith v. Illinois , 469 U. S. 91 , 98 (1984) (per curiam) (“[T]he authorities through ‘badger[ing]’ or
‘overreaching’—explicit or subtle, deliberate or
unintentional—might otherwise wear down the accused and persuade
him to incriminate himself notwithstanding his earlier request for
counsel’s assistance”). Footnote 6 See Roberson , 486 U. S., at 681
(“[I]f a suspect believes that he is not capable of undergoing such
questioning without advice of counsel, then it is presumed that any
subsequent waiver that has come at the authorities’ behest, and not
at the suspect’s own instigation, is itself the product of the
‘inherently compelling pressures’ ”); Michigan v. Mosley , 423
U. S. 96 , 110, n. 2 (1975) (White, J., concurring in result)
(“[T]he accused having expressed his own view that he is not
competent to deal with the authorities without legal advice, a
later decision at the authorities’ insistence to make a statement
without counsel’s presence may properly be viewed with
skepticism”). Footnote 7 Today’s decision, moreover, offers no reason
for its 14-day time period. To be sure, it may be difficult to
marshal conclusive evidence when setting an arbitrary time period.
But in light of the basis for Edwards , we should tread
carefully. Instead, the only reason for choosing a 14-day time
period, the Court tells us, is that “[i]t seems to us that period
is 14 days.” Ante , at 11. That time period is “plenty of
time for the suspect to get reacclimated to his normal life, to
consult with friends and counsel, and to shake off any residual
coercive effects of his prior custody.” Ibid. But the
Court gives no reason for that speculation, which may well prove
inaccurate in many circumstances. Footnote 8 In Roberson , for example, we
observed that once a suspect has asserted his right to an attorney,
courts must presume he does “not feel sufficiently comfortable with
the pressures of custodial interrogation to answer questions
without an attorney. This discomfort is precisely the state of mind
that Edwards presumes to persist … .” 486 U. S., at
684. We held in Roberson that just because different
police come to speak about a different investigation, that
presumption does not change: “[T]here is no reason to assume that a
suspect’s state of mind is in any way investigation-specific.” Ibid . Nor is there any reason to believe that it is arrest
specific. Footnote 9 The compulsion is heightened by the fact that
“[t]he uncertainty of fate that being released from custody and
then reapprehended entails is, in some circumstances, more coercive
than continual custody.” Strauss, Reinterrogation, 22 Hastings
Const. L. Q. 359, 390 (1995). Footnote 10 Not only is this a likely effect of
reinterrogation, but police may use this effect to their advantage.
Indeed, the Court’s rule creates a strange incentive to delay
formal proceedings, in order to gain additional information by way
of interrogation after the time limit lapses. The justification for
Fifth Amendment rules “must be consistent with … practical
realities,” Roberson , 486 U. S., at 688 (Kennedy, J.,
dissenting), and the reality is that police may operate within the
confines of the Fifth Amendment in order to extract as many
confessions as possible, see Leo & White, Adapting to Miranda: Modern Interrogators’ Strategies for Dealing with
the Obstacles Posed by Miranda, 84 Minn. L. Rev. 397
(1999). With a time limit as short as 14 days, police who hope that
they can eventually extract a confession may feel comfortable
releasing a suspect for a short period of time. The resulting delay
will only increase the compelling pressures on the suspect. Footnote 11 It is important to distinguish this from the
point that I make above about indigent suspects. If the police
promise to provide a lawyer and never do so, it sends a message to
the suspect that the police have lied and that the rights read to
him are hollow. But the mere fact that a suspect consulted a lawyer
does not itself reduce the compulsion when police reinterrogate
him. Footnote 12 Cf. Orozco v. Texas , 394 U. S. 324 ,
326 (1969) (holding that a suspect was in custody while being held
in own home, despite his comfort and familiarity with the
surroundings); Mathis v. United States , 391 U. S. 1 , 5 (1968)
(holding that a person serving a prison sentence for one crime was
in custody when he was interrogated in prison about another,
unrelated crime); Miranda v. Arizona , 384 U. S. 436 , 478 (1966) (“[W]hen an
individual is … deprived of his freedom by the authorities in any
significant way and is subjected to questioning, the privilege
against self-incrimination is jeopardized”). Footnote 13 Prison also presents a troubling set of
incentives for police. First, because investigators know that their
suspect is also a prisoner, there is no need formally to place him
under arrest. Thus, police generally can interview prisoners even
without probable cause to hold them. This means that police can
interrogate suspects with little or no evidence of guilt, and
police can do so time after time, without fear of being sued for
wrongful arrest. Second, because police know that their suspect is
otherwise detained, there is no need necessarily to resolve the
case quickly. Police can comfortably bide their time, interrogating
and reinterrogating their suspect until he slips up. Third, because
police need not hold their suspect, they do not need to arraign him
or otherwise initiate formal legal proceedings that would trigger
various protections. Footnote 14 The Court attempts to distinguish detention
in prison from the “paradigm Edwards case,” ante ,
at 7, but it is not clear why that is so. The difference cannot be
simply that convicted prisoners’ “detention … is relatively
disconnected from their prior unwillingness to cooperate in an
investigation,” ante , at 14, because in many instances of
pretrial custody, the custody will continue regardless of whether a
detainee answers questions. Take Roberson for example.
Roberson was arrested and being held for one crime when, days
later, a different officer interrogated him about a different
crime. 486 U. S., at 678. Regardless of whether he cooperated with
the second investigation, he was still being held for the first
crime. Yet under the Court’s analysis, had Roberson been held long
enough that he had become “accustomed” to the detention facility, ante , at 14, there would have been a break in custody
between each interrogation. Thus, despite the fact that coercive
pressures “may increase as custody is prolonged,” Minnick ,
498 U. S., at 153, the real problem in Roberson may have
been that the police did not leave him sitting in jail for long
enough.

															   This problem of pretrial custody also
highlights a tension with the Court’s decision last Term in Montejo v. Louisiana , 556 U. S. ___ (2009). In Montejo , the Court overturned Michigan v. Jackson , 475 U. S. 625 , 636
(1986), which had protected an accused’s Sixth Amendment right to
counsel by “forbidding police to initiate interrogation of a
criminal defendant once he has requested counsel at an arraignment
or similar proceeding.” 556 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 1). In so
doing, the Court emphasized that because the Edwards “regime suffices to protect the integrity of ‘a suspect’s voluntary
choice not to speak outside his lawyer’s presence,’ before his
arraignment, it is hard to see why it would not also suffice to
protect that same choice after arraignment.” 556 U. S., at ___
(slip op., at 15) (quoting Texas v. Cobb , 532 U. S. 162 ,
175 (2001) (Kennedy, J., concurring); citation omitted). But
typically, after arraignment, defendants are released on bail or
placed in detention facilities, both of which, according to the
majority’s logic, sometimes constitute breaks in custody. How then,
under the Court’s decision today, will Edwards serve the
role that the Court placed on it in Montejo? Footnote 15 The Court responds that “[i]f confidence
in the police’s promise to provide counsel were the touchstone,
Edwards would not have applied in Minnick , where the
suspect in continuing custody actually met with appointed counsel.” Ante , at 17–18. But my view is not that “confidence in the
police’s promise to provide counsel” is “the touchtone.” Ante , at 17. Rather, my view is that although an
appropriate break in custody will mitigate many of the reasons that
custodial reinterrogation of a suspect who requested counsel is
inherently compelling, it will not mitigate the effect of an
indigent detainee believing that he has “been denied the counsel he
has clearly requested,” Roberson , 486 U. S., at 686. If
police tell an indigent suspect that he is not required to speak
without an attorney, and that they will provide him with an
attorney, and that suspect asserts his right to an attorney, but
police nonetheless do not provide an attorney and reinterrogate him
(even if there was a break in custody between the interrogations),
the indigent suspect is likely to feel that the police lied to him
or are ignoring his rights. This view is not in tension with Minnick . Minnick holds only that consultation
with an attorney between interrogations is not sufficient to end the Edwards presumption and therefore that when
there has been no break in custody, “counsel’s presence at
interrogation , ” 498 U. S., at 152, is necessary to address
the compulsion with which the Edwards line of cases is
concerned. Footnote 16 I do not doubt that some of the compulsion
caused by reinterrogating an indigent suspect without providing a
lawyer may survive even a break in custody and a very long passage
of time. The relevant point here is more limited: A long break in
time, far longer than 14 days, diminishes, rather than eliminates,
that compulsion.

Summary:
Here is a summary of the case:

The Supreme Court ruled that a break in custody ends the presumption of involuntariness established in Edwards v. Arizona, where a suspect requests an attorney and then later waives that right. In the case of Maryland v. Shatzer, the suspect, who was already incarcerated, was interrogated by police and requested an attorney. The interrogation ended, and the suspect was released back into the general prison population. Over two years later, the police reopened the investigation and interrogated the suspect again, who waived his Miranda rights and provided incriminating information.

The Court decided that the lengthy break in custody mitigated the compulsion that may have been present during the initial interrogation, and therefore, the suspect's Miranda waiver was valid. This decision upholds the ability of police to re-interrogate a suspect after a break in custody, even if the suspect had previously requested an attorney.