But this was a much bigger gathering, and in many ways a more significant one. It numbered more than fifteen hundred people, holding signs and chanting their determination to protect their families and their lifestyle. For Brayton, it qualified as something akin to a Million Man March.
They were also voters, and they had put Holland in office. They had supported him throughout the fight against Richard Carlton and his company, trying to prevent the fracking that they all believed, that Holland had in fact told them, could threaten their health and well-being.
But they had to be handled, and Holland was the guy to do it. He was their hero, fighting valiantly against the corporate villains. It was an image that he had carefully cultivated throughout the battle, so much so that his “soldiers” were apparently getting carried away.
“I know how you feel, and I share your passion and your anger,” Holland said. “And I know you agree with me that violence is not the answer. It is not what we are about; it is not what Brayton is about.”
There had been no arrests made for the destruction of Richard Carlton’s guesthouse, but it was commonly believed that the perpetrators did what they did in retaliation for Carlton’s attempt to sell the land for fracking.
Holland’s call against violence was greeted by a mixture of cheers and angry yells; it was clear that not everyone in the audience was inclined to take the high road.
“The moneyed interests and many in the media are trying to paint you as vigilantes, as outlaws who are dangerous and disrespectful of the process. We cannot let them do that.”
This seemed to get a more enthusiastic response, so Holland continued. “We don’t need bombs, or guns, or violence of any kind. We have a greater power on our side; we have the truth.”
This was greeted with a roar of approval; Holland now had them under control. He turned to look at Alex Hutchinson, who had emerged in recent weeks as an unelected leader of the townspeople. Alex was nodding approval.
“We are law-abiding citizens,” Holland continued. “All we are seeking is justice and the ability to protect our children and our families. We will get that justice; I will accept nothing less.
“So have faith in the process. Have faith in the American system. Have faith in God. Your faith, our faith, will carry us through to victory.”
By then the crowd was completely with Edward Holland; they hung on his every word. They trusted him; if he said they would win in the courts, then they would win in the courts.
The only thing he failed to mention was what he knew to be the truth.
They were going to lose.
The drive to Brayton took an hour and ten minutes.
It would ordinarily have taken me an hour and a half, and with it raining like it was, maybe even longer than that. Which was why I brought Emmit along, and let him drive.
Emmit drives like an absolute maniac, and he rode the siren most of the way. He did this even though we had no jurisdiction in New York, figuring we could handle any local cops who had a problem. None did.
My first stop was going to be at the town hall to see the Mayor, Edward Holland. We had a brief conversation over the phone, but if I was going to pin Judge Brennan’s murder on the situation in Brayton, I needed as much firsthand exposure to it as possible. I was hoping Holland could draw me a road map.
Holland originally thought I was investigating the explosion at the house of Richard Carlton, his adversary in the legal proceedings concerning the proposed fracking. He quickly realized that it made no sense for the New Jersey State Police to have an interest in a New York crime, and asked why I wanted to meet.
“We believe that a case we are working on here may intersect with the controversy you’re involved in.”
“Can you be more specific?” he asked.
“I can, and I will when we meet.”
He made it clear to me how busy he was, as a way of telling me that the meeting would not be a long one, but he ultimately agreed. I made a similar call to Richard Carlton, who it turned out was in Manhattan for business meetings. I arranged to see him there the next day.
I liked Brayton a lot. It was a sort of sleepy place, with a town center consisting of basically three streets of shops. It was the kind of place where the superstores have not made their appearance, probably because the economics don’t warrant it.
All in all, a nice place to grow up, provided the water was safe to drink and the air breathable. I could see why people would be upset that big industry might damage the cocoon they had constructed around their families. It wasn’t Mayberry; it was considerably more sophisticated than that. But it felt right.
Emmit dropped me off at the town hall, while he went on ahead to the Brayton Police Station to get as much background as he could on the violence. Edward Holland had left instructions for me to be ushered into his office immediately upon my arrival, and that’s what happened.
“Is this about the Brennan murder?” he asked right away, surprising me.
I nodded. “Yes, but very loosely at this point. We’re covering our bases, and as part of that we’re looking into the cases he would have been involved in on the Court of Appeals.”
“That could take a while. He would have had a full caseload,” Holland said.
I nodded. “And we’re checking as many as manpower allows. The fact that there has already been some violence in connection with your case puts it near the top of the list.”
“Somebody blew up Richard Carlton’s guesthouse in frustration and anger. It is extraordinarily unlikely that whoever did it had the sophistication to try and control which judges would rule on the Court of Appeals.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I said, and in fact I was sure he was right. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to implicate the “Brayton bomber” in the court run by Chris Gallagher. “But I’ve still got to ask the questions.”
He shrugged. “Ask away.”
“Do you have any idea who set the explosion?”
“Not the slightest. You’d be better off asking the police.”
I nodded. “My partner is doing that right now. I’m asking if you have any instincts about it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t; this has been a peaceful community for as long as I remember. But people are very, very upset, and rightfully so. Having said that, there is no one I know in this town that I would consider capable of such an act.”
“Are you going to win your case?”
“I have every confidence,” he said, without much conviction.
“Is that your official position?”
He smiled. “It is.”
“What impact would Brennan replacing Judge Dembeck have had on the case?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say, which is one of the reasons you’re wasting your time.”
“So you as the lead lawyer, and Mayor, had no preference for either Judge Dembeck or Judge Brennan?”
He thought for a moment, as if deciding how honest to be. “I doubt that Judge Dembeck is favorable to our position, based on her previous rulings, and her questions during oral arguments. Brennan would have been a wild card, hard to categorize.”
“Why?”
“A couple of reasons,” he said. “First, it was in his nature to be unpredictable; I think he relished it. Second, I’m not aware of any similar cases he had ever heard, and he had never written on the matter.”
“So you researched it?”
“Of course. Not to do so would have been unprofessional and borderline negligent.”