Radioland

By m. e. Elzey

At its core, Radioland is a contemporary political novel. It is the story of an old man's pursuit for justice after the murder of his son and his son's wife by a white nationalist. Harry Chalberg blamed the Cal Brown Radio Show for inciting vulnerable people to commit violence against others. After a long successful career as a prosecuti

• Language: English
• Publisher: Little House Press
• Release date: Jan 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734054620

m. e. Elzey

m.e. Elzey has been writing since high school in the small town of Gilbert, Arizona. He attended Arizona State University majoring in business and English literature. In the seventh grade he took his older brother's library book, J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye and read it cover to cover. It was his first novel that dealt with an adult subject. It was also the book that started his love of reading and storytelling. He won several writing awards in high school and college. While attending college, he developed a keen interest in the American politics and culture of the late 1960s. At the request of several friends he began ghost writing political essays that highlighted the inequities of the times. In 1972 he went to work for Motorola, semiconductor manufacture in Phoenix, where he worked for the thirty-three years. The ghost writing continued, but the subject did. He wrote everything from restaurant menus to obituaries and everything in between. He did much more than ghost writing. During his career in electronics, he continued to write mostly short stories and novellas. Many of these stories were published in literary journals across America. In 1990 he began traveling extensively, which rebooted his interest in fiction. Thirty years later, his enthusiasm for reading, writing, and storytelling hasn't waned.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Five Weeks before the Trial

The commute across Alexandria, Virginia, could take anywhere between twenty minutes to over an hour depending on the traffic. The commute on this day took an hour and a half. Harry Chalberg was a troubled old lawyer. His legal assistant of over fifty years was without doubt dying of heart failure. At the same time the most important case of his long career was about to begin. He arrived at his regular parking spot behind Pete's Coffee Shop.

Over the past decade, he had made the pursuit of justice the purpose of his life. The execution-style murder of his son and his daughter-in-law brought him out of retirement. The demands of his profession and his age seemed at odds for the seventy-nine-year-old retired Maryland State prosecutor. After ten years of little success, he finally had the opportunity in Morton v New Signal News to make a difference. During the preparation and discovery, he struggled with concentration, depression, and the ability to remain objective in matters of the law. Morton v New Signal News was the most consequential case of his fifty-year legal career. Harry knew from the beginning that the suit was a long shot. It was a miracle that the suit had made it to the courthouse in Kansas City, Kansas.

Mariam Katz, his legal assistant, had been by his side every day of his nearly fifty-year career. They had started at the Maryland Attorney General's office on the same day and retired 38 years later on the same day. Circumstances in their retirement demanded they continue to practice law. The last ten years had been personal; it was more than just the rule of law. They needed to do everything possible to hold the media accountable for the consequences of their content.

They were an odd couple. Harry was born and raised in Midland, Texas. His father, Diego Chalberg, came from the San Antonio valley in the Mexican state of Chihuahua. His father's family were Mennonites who immigrated to Mexico from Northern Germany via Canada. Diego met the beautiful, young Cista Rincon at a market in Chihuahua, Chihuahua; six months later they arrived in Midland, Texas. After arriving, both became obsessed with learning to speak fluent English. After she’d mastered speaking English, Cista became an elementary school teacher. She was the relentless driving force behind Harry becoming a lawyer.

Since May 1942 Mariam Rosenthal Katz had had to contend with survivor's guilt, terrible flashbacks, anger, and paranoia. The Holocaust defined everything about her. She came from a family of successful lawyers, but at thirteen her life changed forever. German soldiers forced her and her family out of their home and then sent them to Dachau concentration camp. She was the only member of her family to survive. To Mariam, New Signal News, and The Cal Brown Show were blatant replicas of Joseph Goebbels’ propaganda media that manipulated the news and played a key role in the Nazi party's control of the German government.

Two months before Harry and Mariam began doing pro bono work for the NTLC, a white nationalist murdered Harry's eldest son and his son’s new wife. A detective gave Harry a copy of a note the killer had in his pocket. The Cal Brown Show, a radio show that had aired the day before, had provoked the man.

Since they began their efforts to reign in the conservative media, they had made little progress leaving both of them frustrated. Harry at 79 remained the circumspect lawyer he had always been. Despite his emotional uncertainties, Harry still walked and had the posture of a man half his age. At 89, Mariam seemed unphased. She was only five feet tall with a spitfire personality, giving credence to the saying: dynamite comes in small packages.

Parking was always an issue at the headquarters of the NTLC. Frustrated with the constant lack of parking space, Harry and the coffee shop owner worked out a deal. Harry offered occasional free legal advice to the coffee shop owner for a parking spot behind the small business. A handshake sealed the agreement.

~

Good morning, Harry. The usual? asked Pete the barista.

Yep, the usual. How are you this morning, Pete?

I'm still on this side of the dirt, so I'm doing fine. How about you?

No complaints, Harry shrugs his shoulder.

How's that trial going?

We're up to bat, and the bases are loaded. We might strike out, but then again, we could hit a grand slam. You never know.

It's in Kansas City, right?

That's right.

Is the trial starting soon?

Five weeks. All the lawyers have a pretrial meeting with the judge.

Harry, can I ask you something personal?

Sure, what's up?

I saw Mariam yesterday, and she doesn't look good. Don't tell her I said she doesn't look good. She'll come down here and chew my ass out.

Harry smiled and thought for a minute before answering. Pete, I wish I could tell you she's doing well, but I think her heart is giving out. She'll be ninety on her next birthday.

Why is she still working?

She refuses to give up.

Okay, I understand.

Harry paid for the two hot lattes, then walked to the NTLC headquarters building a block and a half east of Pete's Coffee Shop. They leased an old building from the city of Alexandria that had been a shoe factory and used it as their headquarters. It’s an old four-story red-brick building with a lot of rustic charm. It was a shoe factory for 80 years, and still had a faint, sweet scent of leather. Harry never used the fifties-style vintage elevator but walked up three flights of stairs to the third floor. It was a wide-open room half the size of a football field with exposed red-brick walls and twenty-foot ceilings. They filled the room with second-hand Herman-Miller two-person work stations.

Hey, Sis, Harry said as he entered the cubicle, he shared with Mariam. As he always had done, he gave her the latte, then sat at his workstation. She as usual, was reading the Post and mumbled, Thanks without looking up.

Olivia wants to see you.

Harry rolled his chair next to her. What about?

How am I supposed to know? She never tells me anything.

Hey, Sis, how are you feeling?

I've felt better but I can't complain. When's your flight to Kansas City?

One o'clock, something like that.

"I did a profile of that trial judge. He's the best bought and paid for judge we've ever dealt with. I also did some research on the extralegal shenanigans the defense is pulling off in Kansas City to poison the jury pool. Go see what Olivia wants and take your time—I want to finish reading the Post."

~

Hello, Olivia, I was told you wanted to see me.

Hi, Harry, come in and sit down.

So, how can I help you?

How's Morton versus NSN coming along?

Let's see the judge is a crook and NSN is doing their best to poison the jury pool, and Mariam's health is failing. Odds are she won't be with us much longer, answered Harry, his eyes beginning to well. I've tried to get her to slow down, but she refuses. I think we're getting close to that point. As far as Morton versus NSN goes, I believe we're in as good shape as we can be. There's a slim chance we'll win, not because we haven’t done our job but because of the merits of the case. It's a long shot.

The lawyer for the man who has funded the case gave me the name of a young woman just out of law school, her name is Juanita Perez. We will hire her and get her ready to take your place if you retire.

To be open, Olivia, after this lawsuit, I've decided to put myself out to pasture. I've been struggling on this case.

Okay, Harry, I'll get her on board then wait for your direction, said Olivia. Mariam gave me the name of another woman, Alicia Gates, who will graduate from George Washington Law School. She mentioned that you know her.

Harry smiled. Yes, I know her. She's smart and marches to the beat of a different drum, but she'd be terrific.

One more thing.

Yes?

This is more gossip than anything else, said Olivia. There's a concern you and Mariam have an anti-Republican bias. Are you aware of this?

Yeah, I've heard it, answered Harry as he reached into his back pocket. I've been a Republican my entire adult life. They are mixing up my concern for the damage NSN is doing to our country with the Republican Party, he pulled out his voter registration card and handed it to Olivia. It's definitely not the same old GOP it used to be.

I understand.

~

Mariam tapped her fingers on her desk as she took inventory of everything, she wanted Harry to know before he went to Kansas City. Harry, sometimes you don't listen to me. I hope you did this time. You know and I know there's a causal relationship between what those bastards at NSN broadcast and some unrest going on around the country. I know this situation frustrates you, but we need you out there making Samantha Carr and her cohorts miserable.

I think we've already done that.

You need to get going. You don't want to miss your plane. One more thing you need to know. She took a deep breath. The doctor put me on bed rest only.

When did that happen?

About a month ago. That's not the point.

A month ago! Like hell it isn’t the point.

Shush. Mariam pointed her finger at him. I finished what I could. The doctors can't do anything. I know my days are numbered. I've never been prouder of what we accomplished together over the past ten years. I also want you to know how fortunate I have been to have you in my life. You're like the mischievous little brother I never had. I cannot tell you how much I love you.

What's going on, Sis? Is there something I don't know about?

I want you to know that you are my family and I'm so grateful to have spent so much of my life with you. My heart is wearing out and we may not see each other again.

Harry looked at Mariam. You know my feelings are mutual. You didn't have to spend these past ten years helping me. Nothing I can do or say can describe how much I care.

Harry, it would have been obscene, especially after what I've been through to ignore what's happening in my adopted country. We both had our reasons. There isn't a whole hell of a lot I can do about my ticker. I’m satisfied that we did all we could do.

Chapter 2

Eighteen Months before the Trial

There was a soft knock on Hailey Austin’s office door. Yeah.

I know you’re busy but Franklin Dubois called and requested five minutes of your time later this morning, said Maggie, Hailey’s executive assistant, standing in the doorway.

No. I can’t see him today.

I understand but he refuses to take no for an answer.

Too bad. Tell the little shit I can’t see him today, said Hailey as he took a deep breath. What’s so important?

He wants to talk to you about those kids who killed all those people up in North Dakota.

God damn, that creep is the last person on earth I want to see this morning. I want him gone before Jack arrives. I don’t want to hear Jack bitching the rest of the day about Franklin. Maggie, I’m serious. I want him in and out in ten minutes.

I understand!

~

Hailey Austin, the CEO and Co-Chairman of Austin Securities, was in his office preparing to meet his brother Jack. His assistant made sure his correspondence was in order of importance and sitting on his father’s old coffee table. After making coffee, Hailey removed his shoes and began going through his correspondence.

Hailey's executive suite was the entire sixty-seventh floor. It included a staff of eighteen administrative assistants. There was a private elevator from the street-level lobby. He also had private direct access to his helicopter pad on the roof above his office suite. Each morning, the helicopter shuttled him from his home in Connecticut. If he needed to go on a business trip, the helicopter transported him to nearby Teterboro Airport. A Gulfstream G650 waited to take him anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice. The perk he appreciated the most was his panoramic view of North New York Harbor. He could see from the Brooklyn Bridge all the way to the Statue of Liberty and everything between.

Austin Securities World Headquarters was at the southern end of Water Street in Lower Manhattan. It took the top fifteen floors of the G.A. Olson Building. Austin Securities owned the building through a shell company out of Belize. It was an international corporation with worldwide sales of one hundred and twenty-eight billion dollars a year. Forbes listed the personal wealth of Hailey Austin and his older brother Jack, at thirty-three billion each. 

Austin Securities was one of the largest and most influential companies in the world. The company had had a humble beginning in Fresno, California. In October 1946, twenty-six-year-old Jack Austin Sr. started Austin Tractor and Equipment Supply with a loan from his father-in-law. The company sold farm implements in California’s central valley. By 1958, his company had expanded to selling farm equipment throughout the entire western United States. In 1966, Jack Austin senior had amassed a personal fortune of over forty million dollars. 

He and his wife Elizabeth had two sons, Jack Junior and Hailey. When the boys were nine and seven years old, their father hired a sixty-year-old ex-Army Air Corps Major to teach his two sons discipline. He wanted his sons to become tough-minded men. When the brothers had differences, the retired major forced them to confront and work through their differences or resolve them in the boxing ring. He taught the brothers to be formidable fighters. 

~

Like most of the people of Oklahoma during the dust bowl, the Austins were down on their luck. After the bank took their farm, Dennis and Earlene Austin had no choice but to move on. The Depression and the dust destroyed everything they had. Early in the morning of July 5, 1932, Dennis and Earlene Austin with their two sons George and Jack left Guymon, Oklahoma with a $101.14, a few personal possessions, and their 1927 Ford Model AA pickup. It was Bakersfield, California or bust.

It was late August 1932 when the beleaguered Austin family arrived in Bakersfield. The promise of more opportunities in California’s central valley had been a mirage. What they found was a fervent anti-immigrant sentiment, soup kitchens, and no work. Times were tough and like the wind and the dust of Oklahoma they were unforgiving. The Great Depression, along with his inability to provide for his family, took its toll on Dennis. By June 1934, it was too much and he left Earlene and his two sons to fend for themselves. All he left was the 1927 Ford AA pickup, which Earlene sold to a local auto mechanic named Esperanzo Serrano. He offered her work cleaning his house once a week for ten dollars. The proceeds from the pickup plus the ten-dollar a week house-cleaning job helped. Earlene bought a used canvass tent to call home. Her hard work kept her and her two young sons fed and out of debt. 

They lived in a tent along with other migrant workers in a camp on the north side of Bakersfield. The prejudice toward Okies from the locals was thick and relentless. George and Jack learned early on to take care of themselves. As if times weren't hard enough, doctors diagnosed Earlene with rheumatoid arthritis, and as time went on it became difficult to work. After George graduated from the eighth grade, he went to work rather than continue on to high school. In 1936 he found a job paying well in Fresno, 100 miles north of Bakersfield. The job would provide for his ailing mother and allow his younger brother to finish high school. Jack graduated from Fresno High School in May 1941, the first in his family to do so. 

By the spring of 1942, with their mother’s arthritis improving, her sons joined the military. While in Europe during October 1944, Jack received notice from his brother George that their mother, Earlene Austin, had died from complications from rheumatoid arthritis. Only on returning home after the war did Jack learn of his brother’s death at Iwo Jima.

A loan from his wealthy father-in-law started the business. It was long hours of hard work and sheer determination that made the company successful. His father-in-law had two provisions attached to the loan that were non-negotiable. One, he insisted on being on the board of directors of the business for ten years. The second was that in case of a divorce or death, his daughter Elizabeth would become the sole owner.

Jack Senior died of a heart attack on a fishing trip in August 1978. Jack Junior and Hailey had their differences. Junior had been against America’s involvement in Vietnam; he gave financial support to the United Farm Workers and the Black Panthers. Hailey, like his father, was a conservative to the marrow of his bones. Both graduated with engineering degrees from Stanford University. Despite their fundamental differences, their feuding stayed in the family. 

After Jack’s funeral, Elizabeth, with her personal lawyer, called her sons Jack Jr. and Hailey to their father's office. Their mother was stoic, letting her attorney speak on her behalf. The brothers expected some kind of arrangement to let them run the business. Jack Junior and Hailey were, for the first time in recent memory, on time. The lawyer expressed his condolences to the mother and sons for their loss. He then looked at the brothers. Well, boys, here’s what we will do. Everyone in Fresno knows very well that the two of you don’t care for each other. I've known you since you were spoiled little brats. Now you are young, educated spoiled brats on the verge of growing up. There will be times in your life when you have to keep your mouth shut and listen. This is one of those times. You have everything to lose and nothing to win by acting the way you normally act.

I have… Hailey began to talk.

Did you not understand what I just told you? In this meeting, I do the talking and you two remain quiet and listen. Is there something either of you don't understand? Jack Junior and Hailey nodded their heads and kept quiet.

The lawyer explained that their mother had only two options. He explained that it was within their mother's capacity as the new single owner to sell the assets and dissolve the company. He confirmed that neither their mother nor anyone on the board of directors had any interest in selling the company. The lawyer looked at the boys. You need to know that no one wants to see the two of you running the business. Your privilege and your dislike for each other would drive the company into the ground.

What the lawyer said was devastating to Jack Junior and Hailey. Explaining there was a slight possibility they could inherit the business the lawyer insisted they act like responsible adults. The rules outlined how things must happen if they wanted any say in the business. Their mother’s lawyer told them to lawyer up and come to some acceptable adult agreement. If you cannot come to an acceptable outcome, you will lose everything. They must reach mutual agreement or their mother would sell the company with the blessings of the board of directors. He reminded them their mother had power of veto. If she didn’t like what the two brothers and their lawyers came up with, they’d be shit out of luck. He reminded the brothers it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities she would sell the business and use the proceeds to start a philanthropic foundation. There would be a stipulation that upon her death neither of them would get a dime.

~

Hailey Austin lived in Connecticut and commuted to his office in Lower Manhattan via helicopter. On this morning, the entire media was in overdrive reporting on the mass execution-style murders at a high school in the small rural community of Song River, North Dakota. He found the frequency and type of reporting by the networks annoying. Every media outlet was covering this week's mass murders. Hailey turned off everything and enjoyed the thirty-minute ride to his office.

Hailey arrived at his office and eased into the day. He grabbed a cup of coffee, removed his shoes, and sat in his father’s leather chair. He began to study a report from Worden-McAllister, his feet positioned between the files on the coffee table. He’d read a synopsis of a lawsuit brought against the Archibald Mining Corporation. The lawsuit claimed that Archibald’s coal mine slurry ponds caused cancer occurrences in Thatcher County, Kentucky. The small town of Brummel was downstream from several slurry ponds. An EPA study warned the same slurry pond caused the high occurrences of pancreatic cancer. The analyst at Worden-McAllister confirmed the EPA study. To avoid any financial or legal issues, Worden-McAllister recommended that Archibald fire its employees and declare bankruptcy. Their request noted that because Archibald was a Costa Rican corporation, the situation posed no financial or legal risk to Austin Securities and Investments.

A soft knock on his office door. Hailey?

What’s up, Maggie?

Franklin Dubois is here.

Hailey smirked as he set the report on the coffee table. Send him to the Fresno Conference room. I’ve got too much crap lying around my office. Make sure he understands that I only have ten minutes. I’m counting on you to help me get rid of him after ten minutes.

She told Dubois that Mr. Austin would meet him for ten minutes only this morning. In the meantime, Hailey put on his shoes and stacked unread papers back into his in-basket. All the while wondering how one of the wealthiest men on the entire damn planet could get himself into shit like this. 

She escorted Mr. Dubois to the Fresno Conference room to wait.

A few minutes later, Hailey arrived there. Good morning, Franklin. It’s good to see you again. How’s everything with the Second Amendment Union? 

Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I know you’re busy so I’ll keep this short.

I have a tight schedule today, so I’d appreciate it if you could be as brief as possible.

In a nutshell it’s about those nutcase kids in North Dakota who shot up their school and murdered all those people. You know about this latest situation, don’t you?

Sort of, answered Hailey, thinking these mass murders happened so often it was hard to keep track of them. 

We heard the chief of police up there has been trying to ‘Till,’ us.

What the hell are you talking about?

The sheriff has been trying to ‘Till’ us to attract negative attention.

Hailey grinned wondering if Franklin was goofier than usual. What are you talking about? He took a quick look at his wrist to check the time. "What does ‘Tell’ mean?"

"It’s not ‘Tell’ it’s spelled T-I-L-L, as in Emmett Till. Don't you remember a fourteen-year-old black kid named Emmett Till?"

No.

Two white men beat him to death in Mississippi in the mid-fifties?

Franklin, speed things up a bit. What are you talking about? Make your point or I will send you packing.

The chief of police in that small town in North Dakota is trying to give a newspaper the crime scene and autopsy photos to publish.

Photos of what?

Photos of the mutilated corpses of those people killed in that high school massacre. 

Okay? asked Hailey. I still don’t get the connection between a murdered black kid from the fifties and North Dakota school shooting.

After Emmett Till’s mother saw what these white guys did to her son, she insisted her son’s funeral be an open casket. Many black magazines and newspapers around the country published photos of the mutilated body. The photos started the civil rights movement in America.

Do you think the Sheriff is trying to sway public opinion? asked Hailey.

That’s exactly what he’s trying to do. He’s a damn liberal. They're trying to get sympathy from the public in the hope that they’ll pressure our politicians to change gun laws.

What does the Governor say?

He’s a Democrat.

"No kidding, North Dakota has a Democratic Governor? Wow, that’s