Judge Brennan’s

A willful dereliction of family responsibility.

A Novel by 
David Day

                                                                   

Front cover Illustration by Lily Walsh.

Comments: judgebrennans@gmail.com

The Story:

Floral Hill is not accustomed to murder scenes.  It had been 24 years since the last murder in Floral Hill and back then the body was discovered with the murderer standing over the body with the knife in his hands.

Judge Brennan’s is a rag to riches tale which winds up with a murder and another death in the current day.  But how could the Burke family squander an empire of small businesses.  It was actually easy:

Sex, greed, stupidity and illicit drugs, that is how!

Here is the opportunity to read about how a family of Irish immigrants that built an amazing family and a group of small businesses as a family and how it was destroyed.

About the Author, David Day.

The Author has been writing for years, and he has published two previous books:

Election 2020; Donald Trump loses,  refuses to leave The White House. What’s next?  (Amazon 2019).

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07W7P28RJ?ref=yb_qv_ov_kndl_dp_rw

 

A Greater Fool: A story about the 2024 election.  (Amazon 2023)

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CQWXXQPS/ref=ppx_od_dt_b_asin_image_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

Judge Brennan’s is his first novel and fun to read.  (Amazon 2024)

 

Attached is a link to Amazon to purchase the book and an opportunity to see the reviews.

 

https://www.amazon.com/JUDGE-BRENNANS-willful-derelection-responsibilities/dp/B0DJH2PS7D/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2X6F9O11VPUXB&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.dG4OTdWXYUpsxSn5fkAtlM2CjtvbUBryHEiXbyk61aJ5AQP9d4GYzFywQuI-4p8HnDyuoEAkbhqVk9UzBfhGwpEqKOVgbst7_YHDb5XmqUk.R1obIh4izXlwm04jlusPYxytuWgkJP15p2B9nQN1HTg&dib_tag=se&keywords=david+day+judge+brennans&qid=1732922886&sprefix=judge+bre%2Caps%2C131&sr=8-1

 

 

 The Beginning Chapter of Judge Brennan's

Prologue

Present Day

 

Jane awoke and was looking for her husband, Don.  It was 5:45 in the morning on a Saturday and Don did not work at the bar on Friday’s, ever.  That was their night together.  A movie, some downtime from work and most of the time a little romance.  Don called at about 8:15 and told Jane that one of the pipes or ice makers or the basement.  Don had told Jane during the call that lasted 3 minutes, but he promised to be home shortly. 

He did sound like he was six deep into Guinness’s, which would be unusual for that time of night, but Don worked better at the bar when he was a couple of pints deep.  Jane respected that because he did keep the place running and they were making money. And boy, were they making money!

Jane kept the books and did all the ordering and called for the repairs that Don could not do or was unwilling to do around the place.  The bar was always stocked with food, liquor and beer. There was never a point where they had to say to a customer, “Oh, we don’t have that,” or “we just ran out of that.” Business was booming. 

 

Then Covid hit and the whole alcohol consumption business had to change. But, when allowed to re-open, Judge Brennan’s was still the busiest bar in Floral Hill.  Partitions were up, as required, and the tables crowded with patrons. Everyone had food in front of them even if it was three-day old bagels.  That was the legal requirement for re-opening, food had to be present.  Nobody ate the food; it was just there for the State Liquor Authority if they showed.  And they did from time to time.

 

 

 

Jane had a few glasses of Chardonnay before falling asleep on the couch. When she awoke, at  5:45 am and Don was not home.  The bar closed at 4:00 am, or that was the last call.  But even at that, he was never this late even if he tended the bar himself, in fact after working all day as a Teamster, he should be exhausted and in his own bed.

Jane jumped in her car and drove the ten blocks from their home on Zinnia Street to Judge Brennan’s.  When she arrived two of the three spaces for the pub were taken, so she took the other.  The car in the first spot she recognized as one of the two Friday bartenders, but Jane could not remember her name.  Don had hired her to work Fridays because of her young following from other bars in the area.  But she only lived a few blocks away, and after working a Friday night, it would not be unusual for Jane to see her car on a Saturday morning when she checked the bar, as was her normal routine.  In the other space was Don’s red pick-up truck.  Jane took the last parking spot.

 

Using her keys Jane opened the back door and noticed that the lights were off in the bar.  She entered the kitchen as the door closed behind her.  Jane knew where every piece of equipment was in the kitchen, so maneuvering to the basement staircase through the kitchen was not a problem, even with the lights off.  She called out for Don as she started to descend the stairs to the basement, but no replies to her calls.

The noise of the rear door banging again caught her attention.  Maybe it was the wind, she thought to herself. She wanted to make sure she closed and locked the back entrance and went back up to check the back door.  It was still closed, and the lights were out in the bar area.  Confused, she opened the door and looked around but did not see anyone moving about. Closing the door and making sure the latch held, Jane flipped on the lights to the bar area and with a quick glance did not see anyone moving around.

At this point, Jane realized that the cleaning staff would arrive about Seven and she wanted to get Don out of the place soon in case he was still inebriated. Jane again started descending the stairs and flipped on the basement lights.  What she saw made Jane feel ill. 

There was Don on the couch in the basement, naked, in the arms of his naked 26-year-old female bartender from last evening, whatever her name was. Jane, momentarily at a loss for words, found her voice and screamed, “how dare you Don, you are a pig, and you bitch, you are nothing but a slut.”    Neither of them moved, and Jane assumed that they must have been passed out considering the empty bottle of Irish Mist and the multiple other empties.  Jane had made a rather good assumption. 

Jane walked over and kicked Don hard in his groin area and said, “you will not be using that for a while.”  With that, Don cried in pain and Jane emptied the basement safe of cash and went upstairs to take all the cash in the cash-box and register. 

Upstairs, Jane turned on the lights in the bar and proceeded to the register behind the bar, when she saw Jack McMullin on the ground behind the bar with his head smashed and blood all over the area behind the bar.

Jane started screaming and ran to the back door and then to her car.  She then called 911 to report what she had found. Jane assumed that Don and “whatever her name was” had committed this attack on Jack.  But she did not have a basis for that assumption other than the bad memory of seeing those two naked on the couch in the basement. 

“But why kill Jack?” she said to herself out loud.  “Whatever could he have done to deserve that?”

 

The local Floral Hill PD were used to being called to Judge Brennan’s address, but not under these circumstances.  Usually, it was a drunk that needed help moving along toward home, a fight over politics or religion.  Many times, a woman, but never murder, not in Flower Hill. 

When the police arrived on the scene, they were unable to understand what Jane was saying so they could not enter the premises to see the body.  When Jane exited the bar, she did hit the exit bar on the door but did not unlock the door, so the police were at a standstill as to what was inside, and how to get to the root cause of the frantic 911 call. 

Jane was shaking so violently that she could not get the correct key in her hand to open the door.  With that, the duo from the basement appeared at the door and Don saw the state that Jane was currently in, and he tried to calm her down. 

But, with the door now open, Jane ran inside, passed Don and screamed, “look what you two did to Jack.”  They all followed Jane inside and Officer Galvin was the first to notice the body behind the bar and told everyone to stay where they were and feel for a pulse.  Not finding a pulse and feeling the cool body, Galvin screamed, “this is now a crime scene.”  He further shouted, “everyone outside, we cannot contaminate this scene any further.”

Without moving himself, as not to further contaminate the crime scene, he told the other responding officer, Officer Kelli O’Brien, “nobody leaves, handcuff them if you have too.”  And with that instruction to his partner, radioed the situation to headquarters a few blocks away requesting a supervisor and to get the detectives up and, on the scene, asap.

 

Judge Brennan’s Public House was a murder scene.  The initial assumption of Officer Galvin was that whoever did this was standing a few feet away from him right now.  But that belonged to the police with higher paygrades to figure out. His job right now was to secure the scene of the murder at Judge Brennan’s. 

 

 


The Beginning of Floral Hill Murders
by

David Day

Chapter 1

The Starting Gate

“Hey Mister Burke, can I get another glass of soda”,  Dylan said, and Markus seconded the motion, “me too”.  Cat and Tom took their twins to Judge Brennan’s for a bite to eat on a Friday night.   Tom took the time to explain to the boys that their grandfather  was a famous union man with a great history called and he was called “Judge Brennan”.  Cat further explained to her twins that their grandfather was not really a judge, but rather an imposing figure at 6 foot 8 and 270 pounds that everyone looked up to, and why he was called “The Judge”, it was his stature and leadership that created all the history of being call “The Judge”.  He was called “Judge Brennan” by all the union members, and Walter Brennan was a sandhog, building the tunnels and tracks that the subway system in the city utilized.   Walter had a ticket in steerage on the Titanic, but the steerage on that fateful day was full.  It turns out he was thankful for missing that ship.  Walter did lose his best friend on that fateful trip, when he told Tim to take the last available steerage accommodation, but he was able to work through the details of his friend’s death and wound up working as a Sandhog, the men that dug the subways and laid the tracks.

Walter was a leader.  He did lead his men through very difficult times below ground, every day, side by side.  It was with Walter’s direction that the Sandhogs that became a driving force in the building of the big city that allowed the city  to grow, and he never asked for anything but a fair wage for him and his men.

What Walter  Brennan created with the sandhogs was legendary, and  that is how they came to  name the restaurant “Judge Brennan’s”.  The owners were hard working union members who understood the work that Walter Brennan put into creating the structure for the many unions that created the big cities across the United States and helped the unions survive have survived for many years.

 

The twin boys were awakened by their father revving his Harley in the garage.  They loved the sound of their dad’s Harley Davidson motorcycles.  Their dad was a Sargent on the motorcycle team for the city police force.  Thomas Dougal taught his twins to ride Harley’s while they were young.  Catherine, or Cat was never particularly in love with bikes. In fact, she could care less if the boys ever rode a Harley.  But she loved Tom and everything about him since high school.

Cat succumbed to cancer three weeks after her 35th birthday, leaving Tom to raise the boys through their informative years.  And boy, did they have fun.  Dad, while being the adult in the crowd, was not in a position to tell the boys how to do anything, except fix their bikes.  The boys did not listen to anyone and the boys developed their own flair for the town. 

They certainly got in enough trouble for their dad to be called down to the police station in Floral Hill on multiple occasions.  Tom and Steve, the Floral Hill Police Commissioner had a relationship that went back many years from the city police force and the PBA.   But the boys did have their mother’s gift for gab and could usually talk themselves out of any situation.  But on occasion that did not even work out well. 

 

Tom had unfortunately developed his own cancer when the boys were seniors in high school, and it was terminal.  He died three months after his diagnosis.  The boys, both 18, graduated high school without any parents, but their grandparents from their dad’s side made sure they graduated.  The boys were fortunate enough to inherit the home in Floral Hill that had been the family home and a lake front vacation home in New Hampshire. Their grandparents also owned a lakefront home on the upper peninsula of Michigan that the boys and family used for hunting and fishing on a regular basis.  Their mother would have been so proud of the Dougal twins in this situation with the loss of their parents, and the young men that they turned into at this stage of their life.

Dylan and Markus Dougal were good boys at heart.  But without any guiderails, they would lead each other down a path that would continue to spiral downward the more time that passed.  The boys had a passion for motorcycles, Harleys to be exact that they got from their father.  In addition,  the two of them knew how to fix anything on a Harley.  At 18 years old and with all the money you needed for your life, this was trouble brewing, and they knew a whole group of bikers to get into trouble across the country.

With their dad’s influence, the twins knew some type of  boundaries, but only to a point, and with dad gone, the twins were testing the system on a regular basis.  The boys needed more structure than their resources allowed.   The grandparents either did not know how to control the situation, or were oblivious to the world and life the twins had created for themselves and their future.

 

The Floral Hill police department saw the twins as menaces.   These two needed to be coached into adulthood, but they lacked a coach.  But the bad situations may have already occurred. The police tried to control the environment, but without a dominant household person in the situation, even the police were at a loss on this one.   The grandparents were not any help in this  situation, because they were not the parents.  The grandparents could not provide the grandkids with the necessary  assistance the twins required.  The Floral Hill Police Department regularly had a cruiser or black and white parked around the corner from the twins’ home just to be able to respond quickly to any developing situation at the house.

 

On a Wednesday evening, returning home from a  Broadway show at a local venue,  Joanie Scarpa at 82 years old,  exited the train at 11:51 pm and was raped and killed on Oak Street in Floral Hill.   No one called the Floral Hill police about the murder because  the body was hidden in the bushes.  Once the gardeners arrived on Friday, and they found something other than leaves in the bushes. 

The officers on the scene immediately called it into headquarters and requested that the local detectives be dispatched to the scene.  Kelli O’Brien and her partner for several  years, Jimmy Corsi,  were used to working together, but their gig in Floral Hill did not include murder. The Floral Hill detectives had a history of dealing with various crimes and solving them.  Murder investigations needed to go to the county police for investigation.  That was the agreement with the Village of Floral Hill and Franklin County.  Floral Hill detectives would provide back-up to the county detectives.

 

Kelli immediately knew that she needed to call Sal Morabito, the lead county detective to bring him up to speed on new this case.  Kelli and Sal had a long-standing relationship of working cases, although murder was rare, there were a whole set of cases that they worked together.  Kelli and Sal worked hundreds of cases together and most were successfully adjudicated in the court system.

Sal had many municipalities that he was responsible for solving crimes, but Sal had a special affection for Kelli, she was tougher than most of the individual village detectives. Kelli could get things done whereas most of the other local town detectives were looking forward to  their pensions.  There was one other thing, Kelli could kick your ass in a fight.  That was something to be measured against when you had your back against the wall.  Sal needed to know that someone had his back, and Kelli would do just fine in a fight.

 

The twins, Dylan and Markus Dougal, had grown up surrounded by the roar of Harleys and the influence of their father, a city police sergeant and motorcycle enthusiast.  Despite their mother's disinterest in bikes and her early passing after a battle with cancer, the boys immersed themselves in the world their father loved.  Tom Dougal had cultivated a sense of Conway in them as they grew, teaching them to fix their bikes and instilling a passion that would persist even after his death from cancer during their senior year of high school.  Left with an inheritance that included a family home and a lakefront retreat, the boys faced the challenge of navigating adulthood without parental guidance.

Their grandparents attempted to provide support, but the absence of firm parental control left Dylan and Markus living on the edge, “drive fast and take chances” was their motto.  The Floral Hill police viewed the twins as troublemakers, aware that their indulgence in the biker lifestyle could lead them to further complications.  Despite this, the boys' charm and their mother's gift for gab often saw them wriggling out of tight spots, but their actions increasingly tested the limits set by their father when he was alive.

The police department struggled to manage the twins as best as they could, but with no authoritative figure present to guide them properly, the situation grew haphazardly.  As the situation grew more intense the local Floral Hill Police sought ways to lead these young men towards a more friendly environment. 

 The killing of Joanie Scarpa, an elderly woman who was assaulted after a late-night train ride, shocked the community.  Detectives Kelli O’Brien and Jimmy Corsi, accustomed to handling smaller crimes, now found themselves confronting another murder investigation.  Commissioner Steve Stanzione was not thrilled with another murder in the Village.  He would come to learn that his relationship with Tom Dougal that caused many of the current problems with the twins, now that the parents were no longer alive.

Kelli, experienced and tough, contacted Sal Morabito, the county detective responsible for Floral Hill, to collaborate on solving the case.  Their partnership, was built on trust and effectiveness in resolving past cases, was crucial given the rarity of murder in the  Floral Hill area.  Sal appreciated Kelli's determination and reliability, knowing she was a formidable ally, capable of tackling whatever challenges arose.   As the town grappled with the tragedy, the need for direction and accountability became painfully evident, especially for the aimless Dougal twins.

The twins were about to encounter a force of nature that they never had to deal with when their dad was alive.  Kelli O’Brien, the lead detective in Floral Hill.

 

 

 

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