The Road Map to the Universe

By Robert Trainor

Who really murdered Karen Breen? Was it her son Jeremy, her husband Dana, or Shawn Evans, Jeremy's former best friend?

Jeremy, being only twenty-three, is a bit of a brat, but at least he's an intellectual brat. It all started on that day when he was killing some time in the library and picked up a book called The Road Map to the Milky Way. As he was flipping through it in an aimless, sarcastic way, he stumbled onto a statistic that he would never forget: Most astronomers felt that the universe contained at least two hundred billion galaxies and that the average size of each galaxy was two hundred billion stars.

Whoa! Such a massive figure, but what did it really mean? For one thing, it meant that he had no significance at all and that his disappearance from the earth would have no effect on the universe. Depressed, Jeremy walked outside the library and rolled himself a joint. Might as well chill out and try to face the facts. That's when it hit him—since everything was insignificant, it didn't matter what he did. What difference did it make? In a million years, everything would be exactly the same—the galaxies would stroll on with their never ending waves of annihilation, and nothing he or anyone else did would have the slightest effect. Very exhilarating! Because it meant that it was impossible to make a mistake and that choices were just bad jokes from the ego.

But things become a bit complicated when Jeremy's mother is murdered and his father is convicted of the crime. Still, the misfortunes of his father don't really affect Jeremy because all the guy had ever done was fool around with other women behind his mother's back. As for the loss of his mother, Jeremy just can't be bothered with all the trite manifestations of grief that people feel compelled to go through when someone dies—as if death were some tragedy that only happens to a few unlucky souls.

But a year later, when Shawn Evans tells the police that Jeremy was the one who murdered his mother, it's difficult for Jeremy not to begin to take things seriously. And afterwards, when Jeremy is indicted and then brought to trial, his theoretical universe of two hundred billion galaxies begins to shrink all the way down to the woeful confines of his own mind where he has to grapple with the fear of being sent to prison for the rest of his life. Very annoying, if not downright infuriating! During his time in court, Jeremy loses his metaphysical cool and not only attempts to physically attack Shawn but also amuses himself by mocking the judge. As is often the case, it's not very smart to defy people in authority, and Jeremy is convicted of first degree murder. But then, while the jury is being polled, an extraordinary revelation occurs—in fact, in the annals of courtroom history, it is probably a premiere.

Amazingly, this courtroom revelation seems to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Jeremy's underlying belief system has some real potential. Because, in the end, it appears that even the murder of Jeremy's mother is just one more example of people being seduced by a mirage, one more example that everything we experience is based on the self-aggrandizing perceptions of the ego. As Jeremy is laughing at the judge and the prosecuting attorney, he remembers reading about the ancient notion that the sun orbits around the earth, and it strikes him that the belief in significance, any significance, is simply a symptom arising out of the peculiar notion that the entire universe revolves around oneself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Trainor
• Release date: Feb 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224782529

Robert Trainor

Over the past twelve years (since I retired at the age of 59), I've written nineteen novels, four novellas, four non-fiction books, and seven anthologies, all of which you can find in the Kindle Store. Instead of writing a biography of myself, which seems rather irrelevant, I would prefer to write a biography of my books. Here, in the order in which they were written, is a brief sketch of the plots, themes, and subject matter of these books.1/ The Voice of the Victim describes a series of murders in a small city. I've always felt a great deal of empathy for the victims of violent crimes, especially those who are murdered by guns. What, I wondered, would these people say to us if they could speak? When reading this book, it is important to remember that my intention, from first page to last page, was to present the voice of the victim. And, to me, this voice is not a straight-line accusation of weapons and murderers but tends to veer to a pervasive mockery and total indictment of modern culture. This novel is much different than anything else I have written, and there will be many who will object to what the "voice" is saying.2/ Some Things Are Sweeter than God is somewhat along the lines of a classic murder mystery but is certainly not one of those books where the conclusion is some wild revelation that no sensible reader could ever discern beforehand. The protagonist is a forty-year-old woman lawyer who, in her role as a public defender, is required to represent a man who is accused of brutally murdering his ex-girlfriend.3/ The Road Map to the Universe is a well-constructed novel--at one time, I was a tournament chess player, and this book required a great deal of planning and analysis. Essentially, it's a highly unusual murder mystery, but the perceptive reader may be able to identify a standard plot theme lurking in the background. The Road Map also examines an interesting philosophical question: In a universe of four billion galaxies, what relevance, if any, does the human being have?4/ The Great Barrington Train Wreck, a truly offbeat social commentary, includes a unique type of murder mystery and is one of my favorite novels. Although I almost never include anything from my own life experience in my books, I was, just like the protagonist in the Train Wreck, homeless for many years. So I'm familiar with the lingo and attitude that some of the homeless have. This is a catchy, captivating book where the plot seems to materialize out of thin air until it becomes the elephant in the room. Also, to my mind, this tale could describe what happens to Holden Caulfield, the anti-hero of the Catcher in the Rye, as he approaches forty. It's not all peaches and cream! Especially when he falls in love with the daughter of a millionaire, and even more especially when he ends up on death row.5/ Your Kiss Is Like the Sweetest Fire describes a teenage romance between Jaime and Renee, who were adopted at a young age into the same family. It seems illogical to me, but in almost all states, the law views a sexual relationship between adopted siblings who live in the same family as a crime of incest--exactly as if they were related by blood. So Jaime and Renee have this difficulty to contend with, and also, their mother and father are both rather repulsive characters who are totally incapable of helping them. Wait until you meet Renee--I love her.6/ Requiem for the West is partially based on an apocalyptic poem that I wrote during the 1990's. Ten thousand hours is a lot of time to spend on a seven-hundred-word poem! Requiem is also an examination of some apparently abstract themes that seem highly relevant to me: 1/ The pervasive role of explicit sexuality in our culture and the very different ways that people react to it; 2/ The often farcical, Dilbert-like nature of the modern workplace, in this case a college; and 3/ Is doomsday just around the corner? The 1960-2000 version of myself considered a nuclear apocalypse to be inevitable, but nowadays, I'm ambivalent.7/ Frontier Justice was easy to write because once Adriana Jones arrived on page 10, she took over the book, and all I had to do was keep up with her as she overpowered every obstacle that crossed her path. I hadn't intended for that to happen, but that's the way life goes sometimes. Do I agree with, support, condone, or advocate Adriana's way of doing things? Difficult questions. Adriana is my creation, so I have to take some responsibility for her, I suppose, but I look at it this way: To be true to a character, one has to let the person speak and act in a way that is appropriate to his or her personality. I just can't legislate them into political correctness! Adriana didn't just overpower the other characters in Frontier Justice--she also overpowered me. I really like this book--I wish, as a writer, I could think of more characters who are as dynamic as Adriana.8/ A Tale from the Blackwater River is a novella that is meant to be a satire on a certain kind of story that is showing up far too frequently nowadays, but on another level, it's just kind of a humorous tale that was a lot of fun to write. This book is written in the first person by a forty-two-year-old woman named Alanda Streets. I almost published it under the pen name Alanda Streets because I thought some people might say that no woman would ever write a story like A Tale from the Blackwater River, but for those who feel that way, I hope you will ask yourself this question: If the name Alanda Streets had been on the cover of the book, instead of mine, would you have felt that a woman couldn't have written it?9/ The Blackwater Journal is another Alanda Streets novel--this time, she is only sixteen. I couldn't seem to get away from Alanda--she does have a spunky survivor's attitude towards life that appeals to me. In this book, she has to call on all her resources when her evil father imprisons her in a room and tells her that she has only a week left to live. As the days pass by, the terror mounts on her own personal death row. Does Alanda escape? Maybe so, maybe no.10/ Love Letters (Soaked in Blood) is another murder mystery that has a humorous undertone, which many will probably miss. The problem with writing a murder mystery is that anything that can be thought of has already been done about a thousand times. The only original idea left would be to have the most obvious suspect turn out to be the murderer. Think of it--that's probably never been done! And so...maybe you can guess the rest.11/ The Book of the Dead is about a man who goes to his 25th reunion and meets his high school sweetheart. The two of them embark on an impulsive twenty-four hour car ride that will take them through three southern states and bring them face-to-face with death. This is a tale where the boundaries of ordinary reality are stretched out a little bit! I'll leave it to you to decide whether The Book of the Dead is a fantasy or a reality.12/ Destroyed by Malice sees the return of a character who played a minor role in The Voice of the Victim. He's the world famous novelist Barker Drule, but unfortunately, he (and his wife) exit the book on page 1 when they are gunned down in their driveway. It isn't long before detective Jeff Willard is convinced that the murderer is a member of the Drule family. Perhaps it's Lenore, the older daughter, who was, years ago, secretly raped by her father; perhaps it's the beautiful Raylene, who wrote a novel about a rape victim that her father managed to have the publishing industry blackball; perhaps it's Ricky, the cocaine-addicted son who is desperate to get his hands on his father's money; and perhaps it's Dalton Drule, Barker's irascible eighty-two-year-old father who just happens to own the gun that was used to murder his son. In the end, when the truth finally comes out, there will be very few left to tell the tale.13/ How to Write an Imaginative Novel takes you through the whole process of writing a novel and then uploading it to Kindle. Among the many things covered are: Where will you find a plot? What is the best way to find names for your characters? How important is it to punctuate your book correctly? Is there a quick way to learn punctuation and sentence structure? What is the best way to write dialogue? What kind of things should one avoid in a novel? What is the significance of the first draft and why is it so important? How does one begin a book so that it immediately commands the reader's attention? How does one revise and edit a novel? Is it possible to create the cover for your book without spending any money? How does one convert a book to the correct format so that it can be uploaded to Kindle? And finally, how does one upload a book to Kindle?14/ I Ching 2015 contains a complete translation (minus the Confucian commentaries) of this ancient Chinese classic. Also included are detailed instructions on how to consult the I Ching using either yarrow stalks, coins, or dice. (For those who have been using coins, one should be aware that a significant error has crept into the method that many people use to cast an omen. This error, which involves using either three or four similar coins will seriously affect the accuracy of the omens you receive.) Additionally, there is extensive advice on how to interpret an omen. By using the correct method of interpretation, you will be surprised at how much clearer omens become. As part of this advice, I have posed a number of questions to the I Ching and have then interpreted the omen I received. Finally, for each hexagram, as well as many of the lines in each hexagram, I have included my own observations as to the essential meaning of these hexagrams and lines.15/ Blood and Blackmail is an elegant murder mystery with an unusual plot twist that took me some time to piece together. For those readers who enjoy the challenge of solving a crime before the final chapter arrives, this novel should provide you with a truly interesting puzzle. I doubt many people, if any, are going to see the underlying deception that runs throughout this tale because...if I say anything else, I might help the reader unravel this mystery, and I certainly wouldn't want to do that!16/ Fairy Tales by Martians takes a humorous look at the theory of evolution. Science, of course, claims that the human being originated from an amoeba that eventually became a tadpole that eventually became a frog and so on and so forth. However, I just can't conceive of the fact that ten million years ago, two frogs mated in a swamp and because of that event, I eventually arrived on the scene. What kind of a genealogy chart is that? Neither does the seven-day religious version of events appeal to me, so what I'm left with is a very cynical view of both the religious and scientific theories concerning the origins of our existence.17/ The Book of Dreams repeats a very old idea that has been used in many a novel. But here, in this murder mystery, the idea is taken to another level entirely and contains a twist that not many will see coming. The clues are there, starting with the poem in the Preface.18/ The Dark Side of the Moon is a tale about an attractive high school teacher who falls in love with one of her students. However, Carolyn Black is nervous that her sexual liaison with the student will ruin her career. Eventually, she tries to break off their relationship, but when he threatens to commit suicide, Carolyn is faced with an excruciating dilemma.19/ The Murder of Nora Winters was inspired by John Dickson Carr who wrote a number of locked-room mysteries. In this type of mystery, the murder victim is found in a room that does not allow the killer any means of exit. The doors and windows are all bolted from the inside, and it's considered very poor form for the author to create a room where there are sliding walls or secret panels. The solution to the murder of Nora Winters is, I think, relatively simple, but I've woven in enough deceit and misdirection to confuse all but the most astute readers.20/ The Vanishing Victim is a tale of a psychiatrist and a troubled woman who comes to him for counseling. What she reveals to him proves to be a confession to a brutal crime, but he is unable, because of the doctor/patient privilege, from revealing this crime to anyone, including the police. But even more troubling is that the woman's confession, although it contains a number of factual inaccuracies, turns out to have a terrifying reality of its own.21/ The Fatality Game follows a series of innocuous crimes in a rich neighborhood that seem to be more pranks than anything else. But when a woman is murdered in her bed, Detective Cody Barnes realizes that there is something evil lurking under the placid veneer of swanky mansions that are inhabited by millionaires. And when Cody becomes romantically involved with one of the earlier victims, the beautiful Lucinda Kane, the case begins to take on a life of its own that will eventually lead to the deaths of three more people.22/ How to Write an Intelligent Murder Mystery describes some of the adventures I encountered while I was writing murder mysteries (of my twenty-one novels, thirteen are murder mysteries.) This is a somewhat unusual instructional book that attempts to relate the problems encountered in the writing of a murder mystery to the more general problem of writing fiction in today's market where any new novel is almost instantaneously buried under an avalanche of new novels.23/ The Real Meaning of Life is definitely one of my favorite books. It's written in the first person by Patrick Devlan, a twenty-seven-year-old guy who writes murder mysteries. But his father, who is dying of pancreatic cancer, wants Patrick to write something that will take his readers to a "better place." Patrick decides to follow his father's advice, but a few days later, his roommate's pregnant girlfriend is murdered, and Patrick becomes entangled in a real-life murder mystery. Eventually, after his roommate is convicted of the crime and sent to death row, Patrick is faced with a dilemma that will lead him to the discovery of the real meaning of life.24/ Flight 9525 is a non-fiction book that attempts to answer the question as to why there is so much suffering in the world. For the most part, this book bypasses the usual political, psychological, and social reasons for suffering and examines the following: If God is real, then why do human beings suffer? Why would an all-merciful, all-loving, and all-powerful Being permit its creations to suffer? The usual explanations, such as the hypothesis that God granted man free will, don't answer the question at all. In fact, this is a question that's never been answered satisfactorily.25/ The Scriptwriter is the tale of a man who becomes entangled with three different women. There's the incredibly beautiful woman, the incredibly rich woman, and the incredibly homeless woman. Which one will he choose? Events, mishaps, and character flaws lead him to an interesting decision.26/ The Murder of Marabeth Waters contains a considerable amount of subtle black humor and describes the investigation that ensues after a prostitute is found strangled to death. Detective Devin Driver is quickly able to focus on a suspect; not only did this man send a threatening note to Marabeth, but also, her blood is found in his car. As it turns out, the real murderer lurks elsewhere, and unfortunately, Devin isn't a particularly perceptive detective, so it isn't surprising when the wrong person is convicted of the crime. However, even if Devin had been Sherlock Holmes on steroids, he undoubtedly wouldn't have solved this murder.27/ The Trial of Shada King--a district attorney in Hartford, Connecticut, is charged with manslaughter in the shooting death of the man who had raped her ten days before the shooting. Shada claims that she acted in self-defense, and since she was wearing a recording device at the time of the shooting, her claim of self-defense seems to be valid. But why was she wearing the recording device? The prosecuting attorney is convinced the crime scene was an elaborate stage production that was intended to deceive those who would be listening to the tape and that the victim was murdered in retaliation for the rape.28-34/ Finally, I have seven anthologies on Kindle that combine complete versions of many of the books listed above: Four Novels, 5 Novels, Four Murder Mysteries, The Blackwater Novels, Dark Tales, Six Novels, and Five Murder Mysteries. The purpose of the anthologies is that it gives the reader a chance to buy, for instance, five novels of mine at the rock-bottom price of $2.99.I spend a great deal of time revising my books. After finishing the first draft, I go through the book at least eight more times--first page to last page. Each journey through the book is slow and painstaking--no less than three hours and no more than thirty-five pages a day. From my experience, the kind of errors that pop up on some of the later readings can be rather surprising, if not downright alarming! I particularly look for inaccurate punctuation, lackluster sentence structure, and inaccurate or repetitive vocabulary. I also do not permit confusing sentences to stand--I can't imagine that any reader will want to read a sentence twice because I couldn't find a way to explain myself clearly.Finally, I would ask you all to keep an open mind about novels by an author who has no brand name. I am quite unusual because I do not advertise myself in any way, shape, or form (outside, I guess, of this little biography). My books are well-written, entertaining, and thought provoking, but they are often truly original, and I worry about the page-six syndrome. That's the point where some readers abandon a book by an unknown author because of a single sentence, idea, or attitude that seems amateurish to them. Have faith that there are some genuine diamonds in the Kindle arena and have faith that your instinct to buy one of my books was a good instinct. If you read any of my books to the finish, I think you'll feel that your time was not wasted because these novels are not cheap imitations--they are real creations.

Book preview

THE FINAL MIRAGE

Before the days custom decreed the dusty hereditary queen 

There was an eon when the honor fell on a beautiful maiden 

Who danced down the years with a crown called the seasons 

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Back in the yonder years when the knights pledged their hearts 

To a vision of earthly desire under a heaven adorned with stars 

Swirling through the immortal infinities of the galactic universe 

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Fast forward to the modern millennium where the dark prophets 

Have resurrected the dust-to-dust despotism of the grim reaper 

So phantoms of doom can create obituaries of eternal extinction 

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As every trace of our forgotten lives disappears into the setting sun 

Heavy and funereal as it plummets beneath the far horizon of years 

Leaving a gloomy twilight to escort our shadows into the underworld 

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Meandering past the deserted illusions of another ruined graveyard 

To the enchanted paradise where the empress of love reigns supreme 

Over the vast enigma of a universe that is cloaked in death and shame

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And into the roaming rapture that runs through our beating hearts 

The never-ending quest that lies behind every thought in every mind 

A fantasy where truth is the passageway out of this deceitful land 

CHAPTER ONE:  WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO KAREN BREEN?

When Shawn Evans was arrested shortly before midnight on Friday, August 10th, 2007, he was incoherent, belligerent, and covered with vomit. A sobriety test that was administered thirty minutes after he arrived at the police station showed that his blood alcohol level was .34—a staggering figure that was slightly more than four times the legal limit for driving. Although Shawn had not been operating a vehicle that night, he would be facing a number of serious charges, including armed robbery, aggravated assault, and attempted murder. 

An hour before his arrest, he had walked into a small convenience store, pulled out a knife, and demanded the money in the register. The clerk, a young woman named Angela Ramos, had not reacted quickly enough for his taste, and Shawn had lurched around the counter, grabbed her around the waist with one hand, and placed the knife to her throat with the other. As she fumbled through the register and placed the money on the counter, she heard him say, It might be better if there were no witnesses. Angela could feel the pressure of the knife against her throat increasing, and in a state of adrenaline-inspired panic, she managed to slither away from him. Shawn, startled, stuffed the money into his pocket and fled from the store. 

Angela was bleeding from a small cut on the side of her neck but was otherwise unharmed. She immediately called 911 and told the dispatcher that she had been able to watch Shawn as he disappeared on foot towards the center of town. Fifteen minutes later, he had been found sitting against a light pole in a deserted parking lot as he attempted to count the $340 dollars he had in his possession. The knife he had used during the robbery was never found, but the $340 dollars and the positive identification by Angela were ample evidence of his guilt. 

Shawn had an extensive criminal record, but up to this point, it had always involved drugs. His first brush with the law had occurred just before he graduated from high school in May of 2002. It was a relatively minor charge—possession of less than an ounce of marijuana, but in March of 2003, he had been involved in an altercation at a downtown bar, and when he was searched, the investigating officer had found almost an ounce of cocaine on him. Then, in December of 2004, while he was still on probation, the police had received a tip that he was selling tabs of ecstasy at Rubber Soul, a local disco. After serving six months at the county jail, he had celebrated the two-week anniversary of his release by peddling four ounces of cocaine to an undercover detective. This time, he had been sentenced to eighteen months, along with three years of probation. 

Lancaster, Michigan, a town of twenty thousand people, is located in the north central part of the state and borders a large natural forest that extends eastward to Lake Huron. There are few violent crimes in the area, and the last murder had occurred in September of 2004 when a suburban housewife, Karen Breen, had been stabbed to death by her husband. By chance, Shawn’s case had been handed over to the lead investigator in the Breen murder, Lyle Hawkins, a veteran detective who had been born and raised in Lancaster. He had dealt with Shawn before and was discouraged by his recent turn towards violent crime—Lyle had hoped that this intelligent but wayward kid would settle down and make something out of his life, but this new crime wave of his would mean at least five years in the state prison. Shawn’s lawyer would probably be able to plea-bargain the attempted murder charge away, but aggravated assault and armed robbery would not sit well with the prosecutor—not when it came to a man who was on probation and had been convicted of four drug charges. 

Lyle had waited until the following Monday morning to interrogate Shawn—at least, by then, he would be sober! After reading him his rights, Lyle said, Listen to me, Shawn—this time, you’re in real trouble. Drugs are bad enough, but threatening a person with a knife is a very serious crime. 

I didn’t threaten her, and if she told you that, she’s lying. 

But you had a knife with you, didn’t you? 

What does that prove? I just brought the knife with me to show that I was serious—otherwise, she would have just laughed in my face. 

She said you put the knife to her throat. 

That’s a lie! 

Lyle wondered if Shawn had been so drunk that he had no memory of what he had done. What did you need the money for, Shawn? Drugs? 

No, Lyle—believe it or not, it was my rent money. I’m like Robin Hood—only the money goes to me. And don’t tell me that I should find a job because I have better things to do than bag candy bars at the supermarket for people who are on food stamps. 

Shawn, I’m just trying to help you. 

Sure you are. What’s next? Some kind of plea deal where I join the military, go to Iraq, and come home in a body bag? 

Lyle was familiar with this tactic of Shawn’s—nothing was ever his fault because he lived in a corrupt, materialistic society. Shawn, after you’ve been in prison for five years, you’ll be crawling the walls. 

Five years?  That’s totally insane—you’re just trying to frighten me. The most I’ll get is two years—max. 

Considering your record and the fact you’re on probation, you’ll be doing a minimum of five years. 

There was a long pause in the conversation during which Shawn’s attitude seemed to change. Less sarcastic, more focused. Why are you telling me this, Lyle? What can I do for you that would help me? 

This was the moment that Lyle had been waiting for. Look, right now, we’re investigating a dealer who— 

Shawn laughed contemptuously. You expect me to become an informant? No way—besides, I don’t deal drugs anymore. 

Lyle was surprised by Shawn’s refusal and annoyed with his insults and lies. He stood up and started to leave the room, but just as he reached the door, Shawn said, Wait. Lyle turned back towards Shawn, who was looking down at his hands. Slowly, he looked up at Lyle, and in a quiet, calm voice, he said, What would you do for me if I told you what really happened to Karen Breen? 

CHAPTER TWO: MEMORIALS

On a warm day in late May of 2005, a little over two years before the arrest of Shawn Evans, Jeremy Breen walked into Lancaster’s public library and browsed around aimlessly. Today was one of those days when he would rather take an amnesia pill and blank out so that he wouldn’t have to be conscious during the memorial service for his mother, Karen Breen. Selena, his sister, would be totally freaked out; since their mother’s body had never been found, Selena had held out a faint hope that she was still alive, but after nine months, nobody with an ounce of common sense could doubt that she had been brutally murdered. The enormous pool of their mother’s blood at the murder scene as well as the blood that had been found in the trunk of her husband’s—and their father’s—car left no doubt as to what had happened. Dana Breen had been arrested within hours of the murder, and the only surprise after that had been his refusal to plea-bargain. However, that could be explained by the fact the prosecutor was only willing to reduce Dana’s sentence from life in prison without the possibility of parole to thirty years of actual time. And so, if Dana were to accept the deal, he wouldn’t leave prison until he was seventy-three. 

Jeremy strolled around the library until he happened to come to a book entitled A Road Map to the Milky Way. Maybe, he thought sarcastically, they’ll have directions to Mars! As he often did, Jeremy opened the book to the final page and began browsing towards the front. He was flipping through the second appendix when he noticed a statistic that he would never forget: Most astronomers felt that the universe contained at least 200 billion galaxies and that the average size of each galaxy was 200 billion stars. Whoa! Say again...such a massive figure—far greater than the national debt! Jeremy, who had never paid attention to things like stars, had always assumed that the universe contained about ten thousand stars and that the earth was probably the only planet harboring real life. But this 200-billion-times-200-billion fact swept his absurd notion of earthly supremacy away in a gigantic cloud of galactic dust. 

Jeremy brought The Road Map over to a table, placed it down in front of him, and stared at it absentmindedly as a number of strange new thoughts swirled through his mind. To begin with, it was obvious that he, Jeremy Breen, was completely insignificant. Somehow, he had always imagined that what he did could affect the great scheme of things. How preposterous was that? His extinction, he realized, would not have an impact on anything. Sure, there would be those who would mourn his passing, but in a year, or even one month, who would be crying over him? And if anyone wanted to argue about that, then the time limit could be moved out to a thousand years when everyone he knew would be long gone into the ominous galactic dust. Christ was an exception to that rule, of course, but that was only because of the stubbornness of the human soul, which couldn’t accept the fact that no one made any difference, and so humanity had seized on this antiquated character as proof of immortality. OK, thought Jeremy, let’s move the time limit out to one hundred million years. By then, Christ, along with the earth itself, would have disappeared, and according to the Road Map, one hundred million years—in the time span of the universe—was about equal to a millionth of a second in the life of an eighty-year-old person. 

And so, regardless of the human attempt to deny the obvious, no one had any significance whatsoever. We were no different than some wayward ant who swaggered into the room and said, I’m really important. Squish! Humans didn’t, objectively, amount to anything—they were so small a part of the picture that it was simply laughable to grant them any importance. The truth was swarming into Jeremy’s mind all at once—the revelation of total insignificance. He was nothing but a puny, irrelevant atom that had become obsessed with itself and thought that its life had some meaning. 

Depressed, Jeremy left the library and had just reached his car when he was overpowered by another revelation. This one, however, was as exhilarating as the last one had been depressing. Since everything was insignificant, it didn’t matter what he did. What difference did it make? In a million years, in a thousand years, in a hundred years, everything would be exactly the same. The galaxies would stroll on with their great wave of annihilation, and no action of Jeremy Breen, or anyone else, would have the slightest effect. Why hadn’t any religious figure thought of this before? Probably because they were too busy pumping air into their eternally flat tires. 

Jeremy opened the door to his car and sat down inside. First of all, he said to himself, these type of thoughts required the assistance of his favorite prohibited substance. Reaching over, he opened up the glove compartment and brought out one of his huge bomber joints and smoked it up. Then, entranced by the weed and the galaxies, he resumed his contemplations... It must be that people didn’t like to face the obvious and accept their insignificance because it seemed like a dangerous theory. With an idea like that running through their heads, people might decide to throw away their responsibilities and do whatever they pleased. That was what his ex-friend Shawn Evans had always preached—ditch the grind and live for today. Forget about the paternalistic commandments of love, honor, and duty. 

But maybe the worst thing was that people might start murdering each other if they felt that nothing mattered. But...no...people were already murdering each other, and the reason people murdered others was because they felt that something did matter, that something was important. You stole my money or my wife, and now I’m going to kill you. But what difference did it make if someone stole something from you? So what? The only reason one person would murder another was because he or she thought it was important to do so. If nothing mattered to you, then you would never harm another... 

Thirty minutes later, Jeremy met Selena at her apartment. Her roommate was gone, and they had some time to talk before they left for the memorial service. Selena, who had just graduated from college, was twenty-one—three years younger than Jeremy. Although she had majored in business, Jeremy thought that modeling would have been her best career path. Fairly tall, maybe five foot eight, thin—but not too thin—with long straight blond hair and wonderful blue eyes, she was a classic Nordic beauty. No wonder Shawn hadn’t been able to get over her. Sometimes, Jeremy thought, it was a lot easier on your psyche if your girlfriend didn’t look like the centerfold in Playboy. Because, until the day Selena’s looks finally faded, her boyfriends would be walking on eggshells. Not, he laughed to himself, that it really mattered—beauty and jealousy were two more examples of those seemingly significant things that didn’t amount to anything. What difference did it make if your girlfriend ran off with Mr. Universe? Good riddance—now I’m free to find someone new. 

Selena, however, was still operating under the illusion that today’s upcoming event, the memorial service for their mother, had some importance. I loved her so much, Jeremy. 

This was exactly the kind of thing that Jeremy had been dreading about this day. Pre-fabricated, socially acceptable nonsense—naturally, it wouldn’t be polite for him to say to his sister that she had often complained that their mother was self-righteous and politically backwards with her strange espousal of right-wing causes. Bigoted—to use Selena’s word. He would never forget the uproar in the family when Shawn had made Selena pregnant, and she had decided to have an abortion. He had never told Selena why her father had finally given her the money for the procedure—Selena had thought that her father had taken her side, but in actuality, it was because Jeremy had talked to his mother and persuaded her to soften her pro-life stance. At the time, Selena was a senior in high school, and Jeremy knew all too well what kind of person Shawn was. He was a great friend, at least back then, but he wasn’t the kind of guy that would make anyone a good husband. And as for Shawn being a father, you couldn’t do much worse—he was not only totally irresponsible, but he believed that irresponsibility was a virtue. 

I loved her too, Selena. This was actually, for the most part, true. His mother had always been partial to him, and Shawn had gone so far as to call him a Mama’s boy, especially after she had agreed to buy him the Mercedes. But the car was just his graduation present from college—he and his mother had made that deal when he was in his sophomore year. And the worst thing about Mom dying, said Jeremy, is that I’ll never be able to repay her for all the things she did to help me. 

Jeremy had just said that to be diplomatic, but when Selena burst into tears and covered her face with her hands, he knew he had made a mistake because Selena had often been mean to their mother and would take his offhand expression to heart. I’ll never be able to forgive myself, he heard Selena say through the flood of her anguished tears.  I should have been more sympathetic to her after Cathy died. 

Cathy was their younger sister; she had been born in 1997 and died of SIDS in 1999. Their father had been home alone with Cathy when she died, and their mother had always blamed him for the death. Jeremy knew that the real source of their mother’s antagonism to their father was his perpetual addiction to affairs with beautiful women. But what difference did all this make now? Looked at objectively, Cathy’s death was nothing more than a seedy subplot from an about-to-be-cancelled soap opera. Jeremy had an impulse to say something totally stupid like Let’s forget about all this, Selena, and think about what we’re going to do tonight—and who we’re going to do it with, but instead, he stared absentmindedly out the window and kept reminding himself that nothing was important. Too bad that Selena was such a straight arrow and could only see things through the prism of her ego. Once you realized that you had no importance, where was your ego? 

And to think, said Selena, who had calmed down to a state of convulsive sobbing, that Dad was the one who murdered her. I’ve lost both my parents...and...what am I supposed to do? 

It’s alright, Selena—don’t take it to heart because if you do, it’ll destroy your life. Things are never as bad as they seem. 

Are you kidding me, Jeremy? Suddenly, the tears had stopped, and Selena became angry, a not uncommon occurrence with her. Our mother is murdered by our father, and I’m supposed to accept that? I don’t care what anyone says—I cannot believe that Dad killed Mom. I know he didn’t treat her right, but still, he wouldn’t have done something like that. 

Jeremy had been afraid that Selena would react this way. She had always had a blind spot for their father, but she didn’t know a tenth of the things that he had done during his marriage. Jeremy doubted very much that she knew of even one of his affairs—their father had, in fact, been a serial affair guy. One right after another—the Playboy daughter had a Playboy father. 

I realize, said Selena, that he wasn’t always faithful to her, but that doesn’t mean he murdered her. 

Jeremy saw no sense in talking about the evidence that connected their father to the murder because, at the moment, Selena was far too emotional and wouldn’t respond to logic. So you know about that? Jeremy said cautiously. 

Yes, it was a few years ago, back when I started high school. I was downtown, and I saw Dad with this woman at the mall—it was obvious to me that they were more than friends. 

Did Dad see you? 

No, I hid behind a large pole and waited for them to go by. I was so embarrassed. 

Embarrassed? 

It’s terrible to see your father doing something like that. I felt ashamed to be his daughter. 

Do you know if he had any other affairs? 

I think that was the only one. 

Dream on. Selena, there’s no point talking about this. Maybe you should stay away from the trial because it will only upset you. 

I don’t care what the evidence is against him, Selena said vehemently. I still think he’s innocent. Just because you have an affair doesn’t mean you murdered your wife. Don’t tell me that you believe he murdered her? 

This was a difficult question for Jeremy to answer. Perhaps his new philosophy of insignificance would help because if nothing really mattered, then it made sense to follow the path of least resistance. I don’t know, Selena...in my heart, I don’t believe it, but— 

Selena held up her hand. Don’t go there, Jeremy. There are no buts—Dad didn’t murder Mom, and somehow, someday, the truth will come out. 

Jeremy was exhausted with the whole drift of the conversation. Everyone thought the truth was important, but that concept was just another egotistical invention of those who didn’t understand that we live in a universe of two hundred billion galaxies.

CHAPTER THREE: OPENING GAMBITS

The trial of Dana Breen was scheduled to begin on Monday, April 18th, 2005. He was charged with the premeditated murder of his wife, but the prosecutor, Justin Merrill, was not seeking the death penalty because he felt that if the stakes were set too high, the fact that Karen Breen’s body had never been found could lead to a hung jury. He was certain, however, that any normal group of twelve people would not be hesitant to send Dana to prison for life since the case for the state was exceptionally strong. 

Justin was also motivated by his feelings for Dana Breen. In his heart, he had some doubts as to whether the murder of Karen Breen had been premeditated—one could certainly argue that it seemed more like the impulsive act of a domineering man, and so the first degree murder charge was essentially a ploy in the plea-bargaining process. During the six months he had spent in prison since the murder, Dana had changed, and in his interviews with him, Justin had seen an arrogant man become an advertisement for humility. Dana was probably just following the advice of his shrewd seventy-year-old lawyer, Foster Pratt, but Justin couldn’t help but be impressed by Dana’s new-found attitude. His staunch refusal to plea-bargain—even when Justin had lowered the minimum term to twenty-five years—was puzzling, especially given the fact that he had Foster for his lawyer. Old Foster must have thrown a fit when Dana turned down the twenty-five-year deal because unless the defense had some major surprise up its sleeve, this trial wasn’t going to have much drama. 

I just can’t admit to something that I didn’t do, Mr. Merrill, Dana had said while they were talking at the prison shortly before the trial was to begin. 

Dana, this is your last chance to accept this offer, and— 

Foster interrupted Justin and said, We’ve been over this before, Dana, but I want to make absolutely positive you understand the issues that are involved in a plea deal. As Foster turned towards his client, Justin noticed the quick wink he shot out towards the prosecutorial realm. 

Dana looked at Foster dispassionately as his lawyer began another sale’s pitch. Yes, it’s true that in a plea deal, you would be admitting your guilt, but there’s a very important caveat that you should consider before you spurn Justin’s offer, which, considering the circumstances, is quite generous. Now, if he and I hadn’t known each other for years, I would never say something like this in front of him, but what you need to realize is that the plea deal is simply a tactic to buy some time. No matter what I do, this trial is going to begin in April, and we just don’t have enough evidence to convince a jury of your innocence. 

That’s not true, Foster—what about the beer bottles that were found in the kitchen? 

Indeed, you are quite correct, but other than that, what else do we have? 

There must be something because I had nothing to do with it. 

That’s my point, said Foster. Sooner or later, we’ll find something that proves your innocence. I think you’re confused about this and don’t realize that by pleading guilty, you do nothing to restrict your legal options. If, a year from now, someone is arrested during a home invasion and the police execute a search warrant for his place of residence and find your wife’s jewelry, what do you think will happen? 

That’s kind of a long shot, Foster. 

It doesn’t have to be specifically that—it can be anything. And once something like that happens, you’ll be released from prison. 

Foster, that’s just a platitude. There’s thousands of innocent people who’ve ended up having to serve their full terms for crimes they didn’t commit. 

That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Dana. Look, you have to face reality. As it stands now, you’re never going to be acquitted. And if the guy who actually murdered your wife dies in a car crash or settles down and becomes a model citizen, you’ll spend every day for the rest of your life in jail. 

I don’t know...I don’t think so... 

Both Foster and Justin could see that he was wavering. Dana, I’m going to ask the prosecutor a question, and I want you to listen carefully to his answer. Justin, what would you do if the police found Karen Breen’s missing jewelry somewhere—say in a pawn shop? 

Justin knew what Foster was driving at. We’d have to reopen the case because it doesn’t seem possible that Dana would have had time to go to a pawn shop between the murder and his arrest. 

Precisely—in fact, it would have been impossible. 

You haven’t actually found the jewelry, have you? Justin knew that he should find this out before he admitted to anything else. 

No, but we’re looking for it because the jewelry is out there somewhere. Now, if we found the jewelry would Dana be set free? 

We would need more than that, Foster. 

But if the jewelry could be traced back to a person and that person’s DNA matched the DNA on the empty beer bottles that were found in the kitchen, then you would have to release Dana, wouldn’t you? 

Despite another quick wink from Foster, Justin was becoming suspicious that Foster was trying to trap him. Possibly, but first we’d have to investigate whether there was any connection between Dana and the guy who had fenced the jewelry. 

Let me make it simple, Justin. All I’m asking you is this: If you discovered evidence that, to your satisfaction, proved Dana did not murder his wife, than what would you do? 

If that were to happen, he would, of course, be released. 

And his admission of guilt during the plea-bargaining process would have no effect? 

At last, Justin felt certain that he was on the same page as Foster. Absolutely none. From a legal point of view, it would be moot—null and void. 

But if I plead guilty wouldn’t I lose my right to appeal? said Dana. 

The two legal beagles squirmed in their seats before Foster said, "Not really. Naturally, since there would be no trial, we wouldn’t be able to argue any one of the many technical deficiencies that can occur in that venue, but I have to tell you those types of appeals are rarely granted credence by the appellate courts. However, we can still appeal if our appeal is based on anything that is related to the investigation of your wife’s murder. I don’t want to tip my hand in front