Judge Brennan's

Sample the first two chapters 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 it 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 pay grades to figure out.  His job right now was to secure the scene of the murder at Judge Brennan’s.

Judge Brennan’s

Chapter 1

The Proposal

The friendship had developed long ago through decades of pints of Guinness’s in various establishments over the years.  Donald Burke wanted to tap his friend Jimmy Rafferty’s brain about opening an establishment only a couple of miles from Jimmy’s pride and joy, Rafferty’s in Bellemore, a section of the city.  Don also needed to get his hands on the money to buy the building where he wanted to put his establishment.  Yet, Don was weary of how Jimmy would react  to another Irish pub so close to Jimmy’s doors.  Bellemore was the next community west of Floral Hill.

Don danced around the main topic of conversation with small chatter about what was going on at home in Ireland.  Don had spoken to his parents regularly and had peripheral knowledge of Jimmy’s family in Ireland.  The Rafferty’s were well known in the County Cork community and Don wanted Jimmy to know he kept abreast of the current events around their families back home in Ireland. 

And Jimmy, a former City Sergeant Detective saw through Don’s facade and finally said to Don, “let’s cut to the chase and tell me what brings you to my neck of the woods”.  This was the icebreaker Don needed to start his proposal.

Don had been in the United States for six years and at the ripe old age of 30 years old, he had seen a lot in his young life.  He had left his home in Dublin at 17 for London, England to be a boxer.  Don trained every day under a prestigious boxing trainer and promoter and was able to win his first several bouts against other lesser names in the boxing London community.

His big shot came against  Gerhard Rhome, a German up and coming middleweight from Dusseldorf.  Don was able keep Rhome from getting close for the first several rounds, and even landed a right hook and right left combination that would put most down immediately.  Rhome stood there and took everything Don put his way.  At the start of the fourth round  Gerhard Rhome hit Don square in the nose and when Don woke up, he was asking what time the fight would start.

The very next day his manager explained that now that everyone in boxing now knew his weakness, he would need to protect in subsequent fights.  In the next two fights, Don was able to protect his nose, but further weaknesses were now blatantly on display to his opponents.

Don’s career as a boxer was over as fast as it began.  He did try with another trainer, but the word was out.  Don’s boxing career was over,  and Don desperately needed to find an opportunity to start a career.  Don headed to America to be a boxer, but he also needed to eat.

Upon his arrival in the US, his cousin Patrick worked in a pub in Woodbridge and got Don a job as a barback in Dornoch’s Pub in Woodbridge.  And Don worked hard and as many shifts as he could, sleeping when he could on Patrick’s couch.  He spent most of his waking moments working at the bar, boxing and training.  But, when an opportunity to be a union Teamster presented itself by one of the patrons that noticed Don’s hard work and dedication, Don took it.

This was not the most glamorous path to success in the States, but it was a step forward, and he did not have to get his nose broken every couple of nights for a few bucks.  Don felt good about his decisions up to this point, but he wanted more.

Before his job as a Teamster,  Don worked in Dornoch’s Pub.  He started as a barback and worked his way up to being a bartender and eventually up to helping manage the bar as the owner expanded to other locations.  Don saved every nickel he could for his future dream of owning his own establishment came along. 

Jane McBreen had a son from a previous relationship in Ireland and came to the US without knowing about the pregnancy.  A whole series of complications later brought a son, and many unexpected turns.  But Jane, reaping of her mother’s positive attitude, always saw the brighter side.

The close-knit Irish community of Woodbridge rallied support around Jane with fund raising and babysitting duties while Jane waited tables in Joe Dornoch’s pub in Woodbridge.  And the Irish community came out in full force when Jane worked to provide her with support for young Terrance, or Terry.  Don and Jane provided support for one another in friendship as part of the Irish community in Woodbridge. 

Don was enamored by Jane, but afraid of rejection if he tried to take the relationship forward.  Jane did not want to scare off developing a relationship with Don  because she already had a child.  Although Don had all the qualities she wanted in a husband and father for her children, she was not about to make the first move in turning this relationship into a budding romance.

Their relationship moved along well for one another over time.  But,  when Terry took ill and had to be hospitalized, Don hatched a plan to marry Jane so both Jane and Terry would have medical benefits.  While awkward at first, it turned out to be the best they could have hoped for in a relationship.  And they were able to combine expenses of the housing and nourishment for the young group.  It was a win win for all involved.

Don wanted this conversation with Jimmy to go well, he needed this conversation to go well.  He had only shared the concept with his wife, Jane, who encouraged him to talk to Jimmy about the plan.  This could be the life-changing event they needed to push what they had in their relationship forward. 

Jimmy Rafferty on the other hand was a retired city detective sergeant that had acquired a pension along the way.  With his wife Sharon’s Social Security and Jimmy’s pension and Social Security, they were set for life.  But they also jointly owned Rafferty’s, an Irish pub on the corner of Hempstead and Little Neck in Bellemore, right on the city side of the border with the suburban county of Franklin County.

Rafferty’s had a very steady clientele from the middle-class neighborhood that surrounded the pub.  The best thing about Rafferty’s to Jimmy and Sharon was the fact that everyone was regulars.  Husbands, wives, couples and their kids all enjoyed coming into the pub.  And they were always welcome.  And if you were short, pay it next time, because everyone knows everyone.  Rafferty’s was a one-of-a-kind place. 

With the two apartments upstairs, they could sell the property for a mint, and it was not mortgaged.  It was all for their lifestyle in Florida in the very near future.