Page 89 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 85

Rockingham County Courthouse, New Hampshire

T he rain is falling harder as I reach the courthouse entrance and present my admission pass—one of only sixty available and more precious than a Super Bowl ticket.

I have Dr. Graham to thank for that.

The pass was delivered to my condo by certified mail, with a note enclosed.

My student should see this trial live and in person.

A Brother

The line moves slowly up to the main entrance of the courthouse.

From every direction, I hear whispered conversations:

“He’s totally guilty!”

“He’s an American hero!”

“He’s a government puppet!”

“He’s being railroaded!”

A few more steps and I’m finally out of the drizzle and into a bright corridor.

I pass through a metal detector and a bag search station.

Then I’m in.

That’s when it really hits me.

All the months of pretrial hearings, motions, and counter-motions are over.

Multiple requests for change of venue denied.

One superior court judge recused himself; another was assigned.

I closely followed the many evidentiary hearings and motions to dismiss and the bail hearing that ended in Cole being allowed to wear an ankle monitor while living in the White House instead of having to wait for his trial in a cell like every other murder suspect.

At first, I couldn’t believe it.

But I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Power means privilege.

Now all the preliminary legal bullshit is over.

The jury and alternates have been seated.

Today it begins.

The end of Cole Wright.