“Probably, but it’s all very, very speculative. Other lawyers might feel completely differently about it. Anticipating judicial decisions is no way to make a living.”
I was pretty much running out of questions, mostly because of his answers so far. If he was right that Brennan’s joining the court would be a possible problem for Carlton’s side, then they would have been the ones most inclined to prevent him from doing so. Which made them my most likely suspects.
I thanked him and walked over to the police station, which was in the same complex. Emmit was just coming out, having spoken to the lead detective assigned to the bombing of the Carlton guesthouse.
“They’ve got zip; the perp left nothing behind at the scene,” he said. “Which surprises them. They think it’s an amateur who behaved like a pro.”
“Why are they thinking amateur?”
“Because everybody in the town is pissed at Carlton and they aren’t the types to go out and hire professional muscle. So somebody got frustrated and angry, and did the job. They were just lucky.”
Holland had described the perpetrator in similar terms; no doubt he was in touch with his officers. “Is there a leader in the town on this issue, other than Holland?”
Emmit nodded. “According to the detective, the unofficial leader is Alex Hutchinson.”
I thought about it for a few moments, then shook my head. “Doesn’t work for us.”
“What do you mean?”
“According to Holland, the town’s side would have had reason to be in favor of Brennan joining the court. They might have bombed Carlton’s guesthouse, but killing Brennan is a tough sell. It would run counter to their interests. If there’s a killer we can point to, he’s on the other side.”
Emmit nodded his understanding. “Makes sense.”
“So let’s go talk to Alex Hutchinson.”
“You just said that doesn’t work for us.”
“We’re here anyway; maybe Hutchinson will say something to change my mind. Can’t hurt to talk to him; where is he?”
“She’s at the diner,” Emmit said.
“What?”
“Alex Hutchinson is a woman.”
Lucas … something happened this morning. I was watching television at about ten forty-five, and the satellite went out for about five minutes. Then, maybe twenty minutes later, it went out for three minutes. Could it be the weather? Would that have happened everywhere, or just certain areas?
Sorry to say serial numbers have been scraped off. He’s smart. Please be smarter (just this once).
Let me hear from you.
“What was the weather like there this morning?”
“The weather?” Julie asked, obviously puzzled as to why I had called to ask that question.
“Yes. Bryan’s satellite television went out for a few minutes twice this morning. It was out for five minutes at ten forty-five, then for three minutes at eleven ten.”
“I don’t know … I was in my office. I know it was raining; Danielle went out for coffee and took my umbrella.”
“OK, we-”
Julie interrupted me, knowing exactly where I was heading. “I’ll get a subpoena and get the satellite companies to give me any information on disruptions this morning. Maybe it’s isolated to a specific area.”
“That’s why Bryan told me about it.”
“I’ll get right on it,” she said. “It will give me something to do.”
I could hear the stress in her voice, and I felt for her. I also felt for me. But I especially felt for Bryan. “Julie, you OK?” I asked.
“Yes, other than the fact that my head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“I know the feeling. Did you get a chance to look through those Appeals Court cases?”
I could hear the sudden anger in her voice. I had always been struck by her ability to change moods on a dime; some people found it intimidating, but I was not one of them. “Did I get a chance?” she asked. “No, I went miniature golfing instead. Of course I got a chance.”
“Sorry. Unless you have a better idea, I’m focusing in on Carlton versus the town of Brayton, NY. Emmit and I are there now.”
“The fracking case. That’s the one I would go with as well.”
“Good. I need to know what impact Brennan not joining the court would have been expected to have on that case.”
“You think that could have something to do with Brennan’s murder?”
“In real life? No. But it could serve our purpose.”
She promised to dig more into the case immediately, and then asked, “How’s Bryan holding up?”
“Seems OK,” I said. “He’s tougher than I would have thought.”
“Doesn’t surprise me at all,” she said.
We got to Alex’s Country Diner at around one thirty, at what should have been near the end of the lunch hour rush. There were three cars in the parking lot; my guess was that Alex’s Country Diner hadn’t seen an actual rush in a very long time.
There were only ten tables in the place, and two were occupied, plus another three people were eating at the counter. In terms of employees, there was a woman behind the counter, and another at the cash register. Each was in her thirties; they could have been sisters.
It turned out that Alex Hutchinson was the cashier, and when we identified ourselves she nodded as if she was expecting us. She called out to her colleague to cover the register, and we went to a booth near the back.
“I’ve got nothing to tell you now that I didn’t tell you last time,” she said.
“This is the first time we’ve spoken to you,” I said.
“Don’t you guys talk to each other? Two other officers questioned me the other day.”
“They were local; we’re New Jersey State,” Emmit said.
She laughed a very likable laugh, one that said she couldn’t have been less intimidated by us. “New Jersey? What is it you think I did in New Jersey?”