Many in town were appalled that his wrists were not also bound. Victoria explained to them that torture was not part of the package of services that were offered.

She worried that the fuse on Brandon-Lee’s safety was burning dangerously short. They needed to get this trial done, with a real verdict on the record.

And then, if she listened to the talk in the town, it would be time to hang the guilty bastard. There were no shortages of wannabe prosecutors.

But defenders were a different issue. The man whom Brandon-Lee allegedly killed, Ryan Hamilton, had been a family man. Hamilton family roots were sunk deeper into Ortho than all but the oldest, grandest trees. He’d married his high-school sweetheart and was father to three girls, whose soccer teams he’d coached. Now he was dead at the hands of what was now called the Grubbs gang, and somebody by-God had to pay.

But there had to be a public trial, and for the outcome to be legitimate, someone needed to speak on behalf of the accused. Even with civil society shredded, the most basic tenets of law had to be preserved.

Again, Victoria turned to Dr. Rory Stevenson for assistance. He was a respected professional whose opinion, she hoped, would be more accepted by the population than any other townsperson.

Rory had put up a pro forma objection, but in the end, he understood the stakes, and he took on the task. “You know doctors and lawyers are, like, entirely different professions, right?” he’d asked Victoria privately before the trial began.

“One thing we share,” Victoria replied, “is that we’re all pains in the ass.”

Victoria had never been a trial attorney. She’d done some property stuff, but mostly she’d dealt with wills and estates before moving on to the state house, and from there to the U.S. Capitol. She hadn’t dealt with a court proceeding since her moot court days during law school.

She decided that this would be a bench trial—granting a motion that she had coached Rory to make—and that there would be no formal prosecution. Instead, she would interview the witnesses herself. The charges would be grand theft and murder. These complex times were in some ways simpler than before. If the evidence showed that Brandon-Lee was in any way involved with the murder of Ryan Hamilton, the town would settle for only one sentence, and they would insist upon it being carried out immediately.

Maggie’s Place was beyond packed when Victoria gaveled the assembly to order. As judge, she sat elevated on a bar stool behind a lectern that had been procured from the Baptist church. Brandon-Lee sat facing her at a table to her right, with Rory Stevenson on his left, and with McCrea and Paul Copley standing close behind to provide security.