Marvyn with a Y was having a typical day: crazy.

First, an arraignment in Manhattan for a police officer accused of beating up a homeless man on a frigid night last January. Then a wild ride over to the Bronx – constantly checking with the office via his ever-ringing cell phone – to finalize a good plea deal for a city emergency medical technician accused of grand larceny and official misconduct.

Then back to the office in Queens – all before noon – to catch up on paperwork, put the finishing touches on a multimillion-dollar malpractice suit against a private psychiatric hospital, and juggle calls from clients, would-be clients, and reporters.

But The Y – aka Marvyn Kornberg, aka The King of Queens Boulevard – was loving every minute of it.

“Nobody can keep up with me,” the 70ish grandfather cackles, spitting out the words at machine-gun speed as he leans back in a leather chair in his office, conveniently located across the street from the Kew Gardens courthouse. “All that and it just takes me to lunch.”

Decked out that day in a crisp white shirt, print tie, gold watch on his wrist, and his perpetual tan from hanging out in the Hamptons, The Y has been doing “all that” since November 1958, and he shows no signs of slowing or toning it down.

He may be the only lawyer in the world who proudly displays on an office wall an old newspaper story in which he proclaimed, “I am a hired gun.” Another sign declares, “The presumption of innocence commences with the payment of a retainer.”

He defends a lot of police officers – “some of them just aren’t happy with what they get from the PBA” – along with firefighters, rappers, mobsters, and drug dealers.

“It’s hard to fathom a case I wouldn’t take,” he says, noting that even though he’s Jewish, he once represented a neo-Nazi-type. On second thought, he says he might not take a case involving “certain kinds of child abuse” or terrorists.

“I don’t think I would defend a terrorist,” he says. “That’s where I would draw the line. I’ll leave that to someone else.”

But he’s always happy to take an unpopular case: Among them is one involving firefighters who donned blackface and manned a racist float in a 1998 Labor Day parade in Broad Channel; another was the infamous police assault of Abner Louima.

Mr. Kornberg took a lot of heat in the newspapers for his initial defense of Justin Volpe, a hulking cop who eventually admitted sodomizing Mr. Louima with a broken stick in a Brooklyn police station in 1997. The defense: Mr. Kornberg told jurors he would show Mr. Louima’s injuries were from rough gay sex.

“You have to understand what I was sitting with at that time,” he says, a touch of defensiveness in his voice.” Volpe was lying to me; he was denying any involvement. I had a pathologist’s report that said because there were no contusions around the anus, there was no indication of the entry of a foreign object.”

The Volpe case never got to the jury because he pleaded guilty in the early stages of the trial; he is serving 30 years in federal prison. “I would never have considered that defense if Volpe had been telling me the truth,” Mr. Kornberg says.

His favorite case: representing Joey Buttafuoco on statutory rape charges in the case of the “Long Island Lolita,” Amy Fisher.

“The case was the most fun,” he laughs. “It was funny; it had a life of it’s own. You never knew what was going to happen. It became a movie, Joey got a TV show, and Amy got a couple of books out of it.”

Well-armed with a flair for the dramatic, The Y’s best “smoking gun moment” came last year at the trial of the firefighters who claimed they were illegally dismissed for wearing blackface. On the witness stand the then-fire commissioner, Thomas Von Essen, repeatedly insisted that Mayor Giuliani had not ordered him to terminate the firefighters.

On cross-examination, at his Perry Mason best, The Y went into his briefcase, whipped out a book Mr.Von Essen had written, and turned to a page in which the former commissioner wrote that Mr. Giuliani had, in fact, told him to fire the men.

The judge, John Sprizzo of federal court in Manhattan, “almost fell off the bench,” Mr. Kornberg roars.” He said to me, ‘You found a bigger smoking gun than Hans Blix found in all of Iraq.'”

The Y also has an uncanny knack for playing the press – a touchy subject. Shortly after the Louima attack, when Volpe was getting a drubbing in the press for what was seen as a racial attack, Mr. Kornberg produced Volpe’s girlfriend – who happened to be black – for what became a front-page story.

“The DA’s office was making it a racial case,” he says, taking umbrage at the suggestion that there’s something wrong with being cozy with the press. “I had to figure a way to undo that. The district attorneys and the U.S. attorneys all have a person on the payroll to manipulate the press. They want to be the only ones to manipulate the press. That will not happen with this office.”

Right on cue, the phone rings. It’s a stringer for the New York Times wanting some details on that morning’s arraignment.

Spell my name?” The Y asks. “Sure, it’s Kornberg. K-o-r-n-b-e-r-g. And Maryvn with a Y.”