Code 61 - Donald Harstad [78]
“Well, that's good,” I said. “Why don't you just go home, and come back in tomorrow like you had a day off?” He'd gotten off pretty easy, I thought, because warning shots were prohibited by department policy.
“He wants to ask you something first,” said Sally.
I looked at her. Her tone of voice told me she was at least half on his side, for some reason.
“Well, go ahead,” I said, remembering in the nick of time not to say “Shoot.”
“You had to tell Lamar, I suppose,” he said. “Didn't you?”
Honest. That's what he said.
“You shouldn't even have to ask that,” I replied. “Of course I did. I was present, I was senior officer, and it was my responsibility and duty to do so. You know that.”
Silence for a few seconds. Then he asked what I considered the second dumb question in a row. “I don't suppose you could have waited for me to tell him first, then, could you?”
It wasn't only a dumb question, there was resentment creeping into his voice. If I hadn't liked him I just would have told him to grow up. Instead, he got a bit more than he bargained for.
I looked at my watch. “Okay. Sit down.” He looked blank. “I said to sit down.”
He did.
“Deadly force is justified only to protect your life or that of another, right?”
“Sure.” He couldn't really say anything else. That was the fact of the matter.
“And only if there's no other way to accomplish that protection. Right again, no?”
“Yeah,” he said, “sure. Of course.”
I looked at Sally. “Since you're carrying a gun as a reserve, you knew that, too, didn't you?” She nodded. She damned well better have.
“This is for you, too. Sort of a refresher. The most dangerous shot you can fire is a warning shot.” I was warming to my task. “Let me tell you why. Number one: You have absolutely no business discharging your weapon if deadly force is not justified. It can't be justified, because you are making a deliberate effort not to hit the individual. You with me?”
He nodded, but was beginning to look bored.
“I'm doing this because I think you have potential, so listen up. Number two: You have no goddamned clue as to where those bullets went, do you?”
“I shot into the air,” he said.
“Exactly. Unless they defied gravity, they came down. Do you know where they came down?”
“No.”
“Damn right, you don't. In some departments, where they have more people and could afford to have you off for a while, you wouldn't get back off suspension until you produced both rounds for the sheriff's inspection. Did you know that?”
No, as a matter of fact, he hadn't.
“Number three: When the bullets stop, if they should because they hit somebody, it damned well isn't anybody who you'd be justified in shooting, is it? We had two reserves in the yard around the other side of the Mansion. What in hell would you have done if one of 'em had come down and hit Old Knockle in the head?” I waited a second. “How about an answer?”
“I don't think they went in that direction.”
“You don't think? Well, that's swell. Do you know?”
“No,” he said, “I don't know, but I know I didn't hit Knockle.”
“That's really lame,” I said. “But don't let's stop there. Number four: The suspect who got you to pop two warning shots may very well have killed Edie in the preceding twenty-four hours.” I saw he was going to say something, and held up my hand. “No, we're not sure. Just a good bet. At the same damn time, the son of a bitch had just slashed you across the chest with a very sharp object, and would have severely injured you if you didn't wear your vest. Right?”
“Yes, but that's why we wear 'em.”
He was starting to piss me off. “Did it ever occur to you,” I said, very slowly and distinctly, “that he was trying to cut your throat, just like he did to Edie? That he just missed because he was in a fucking hurry?”
He got pretty pale, pretty fast. Obviously, it hadn't occurred to him at all.
“So, he was still facing you, he cut at you, and you shot in the air. Assume for a second that you had hit Old Knockle.” I let him think about that for a second. “Can you imagine me telling Lamar that you'd