A Dream of Death (13 page)

The first officer on scene took position at the body, the
next came to my assistance. The first ambulance arrived next and was directed
to Saunders, but there was nothing they could do.

With the officer’s help I was able to hobble over to where
Kara stood, seeing now what she saw. I counted five bullet holes in Saunders’s
back and one in the back of his head. There was no surviving that. Kara slipped
her shoulders under my other arm and she and the officer practically carried me
back to the car. They set me inside the open door with my feet hanging out.
Residents had started coming out of their homes, and the next responding
officers positioned their cruisers to block the body, preventing people from
seeing what lay on their street. A quiet neighbourhood shattered by death,
something Saunders had been responsible for on five separate occasions.

I had always wondered how I would feel if I had to kill
someone. I assumed it would be hard to handle. I had always told Kat to monitor
me if I killed someone in case taking the life of another human took its toll
on me in ways I didn’t recognize. Even if I was saving my own life or someone
else’s, even if the person by all merits deserved to die, I assumed I would
feel guilty.

Now I’d shot an unarmed man in the back, and I felt nothing
but relief.

The rest of the day went as expected. I was transported to
hospital by an ambulance once the scene was secure and my gun had been taken
for the investigation. That was protocol in the event of an officer-involved
shooting, and the rest of the protocol was well under way. The province’s
Special Investigations Unit, the SIU, was already on their way down. The unit
was responsible for investigating any serious injuries or death sustained by
civilians as a result of police actions. They were our watchdog and, in cases
of criminality, they were the ones who would bring charges against the officer
or officers involved.

I knew I had done nothing wrong but at the same time fear
was taking over. Officers were to be interviewed within days as the unit tried
to determine if any fault lay in the hands of the police. In this case I was
the only subject officer as no one else had even seen the shooting.

Kara was one of the witness officers, witness to the events
preceding, and would have to detail everything from the time we spotted the
vehicle until I took off on foot. Without a radio I had been out of contact
from when I left the car until I called dispatch from my cellphone after
stopping Saunders. Those minutes would need to be accounted for, and I was the
only one who could do that.

Giving an interview to the SIU was voluntary, but I didn’t
even consider refusing. The Criminal Code of Canada protects police officers using
force in execution of their duties, as long as it is not excessive. But the
only way to invoke that section of the Code was to articulate my actions, give
my why to the what they already knew.

Police in Canada are not allowed to unionize, but we do have
associations. The Ontario Provincial Police Association is responsible for
hiring lawyers for officers should it be required, and they provide support in
numerous ways, including being present at SIU interviews.

But I would go it alone. There was no reason to have someone
present, someone ‘protecting my interests’. I was capable of that on my own.

I had plenty of time to think about what I would say in the
interview while waiting in the hospital; how I could best explain my actions
and choices. It was a few hours before I had my X-rays and a doctor had
reviewed them. Then I got the bad news. The break was severe, a displaced
fracture of both the tibia and fibula, and would require surgery. I never had a
chance to ask when.

Today.

There was no other option. With pins and plates and screws
or some combination of the three I would never again go through an airport
security checkpoint on the first try.

I took out my phone, breaking the cardinal hospital rule of
no cell phones, and dialed Kat.

“Hello?” Her usual answer, she was quite certain it was me
but the “private number” showing up on her call display always made her
question the caller.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Everything all right?”

My voice must have given it away.

“Not exactly. I got him, Kat, it’s over. But I’m back in the
hospital.”

A loud sigh. “What did you do now?” She was worried, I could
hear it in her voice, but the fact that I was calling her and talking to her
meant it couldn’t be serious.

“Broken ankle. He threw a garbage can back at me while I was
chasing him.”

“So, a cast and you’ll be home?”

“It’s a bit more broken than that. Surgery, a cast and I’ll
be home, probably tomorrow.”

“Surgery?”

I paused. “I did a real number on it, Kat, screwed it up
like only I can do.”

“Don’t worry about it, just come back home. Everything will
be all right. I’m coming up now to see you.”

I smiled to myself at the U-turn we had taken and apparently
I smiled to the older woman across the pod, lying alone in her hospital bed.
She returned the smile.

“There’s no point now,” I said. “They’re bringing me in
soon, I’ll call you when I’m out of surgery. If it’s not too late, can you
bring the kids up?”

“Of course,” she said, “I’d be glad to. You sure you don’t
want me up there now? I’ll get a sitter or bring the kids.”

“Thanks, babe, but you’ll just be waiting for me. I don’t
know, they might have to put me under. I’ll call. I love you.”

“I know you do. And you know I love you.”

“I know.” The doctor walked in and stood at the side of my
bed, an unhappy glare directed at my phone. “Oops, I’ve got to go Kat, doctor’s
here.”

I didn’t get to hear her response before I shut my phone off
at the doctor’s behest. I’m sure it was “good luck” or something to that
effect. The time-worn stage adage of break a leg likely wouldn’t have been her
first choice of words.

* * *

I woke up a few hours later groggy and with little memory of
what had happened. The last thing that stayed in my mind was being told to
count to ten. I looked down to my feet and saw one looking back up at me, the
other shrouded in fibreglass. I felt nothing; the morphine dripping into my IV
was having the desired effect. I pressed the call button at the side of the bed
and waited for a nurse to come by.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Ten-thirty.”

A minute later I was breaking the rules again and on the
phone with Kat. The kids were sound asleep, and I wouldn’t be getting my visit
from them tonight. Tears clouded my eyes as their images appeared before me. I
had wanted nothing more than to see them. Kat apologized and even under the
influence of painkillers there was logic in the argument against waking two
children up and dragging them to a hospital in the middle of the night.

“I’ll be up as soon as I can get someone over to watch the
kids.”

“Thanks.” I hung up the phone and lay back in my bed, ready
to fall asleep again. It seemed like only moments before I was awoken by a hand
placed lightly on my leg.

“Kat?”

“No, it’s me, Kara.”

I could feel her hurt as she pulled her hand away.

“Sorry, I was just talking to Kat.”

“It’s okay. She is your wife, after all.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment, an awkward silence filling
the curtain-enclosed area we found ourselves in.

“So what happened today?” I said, the first to break the
silence.

“We searched his car. It was his, stolen plates like we
figured. He had notes, photos, and maps for two other women. Looks like he was
planning on killing one tonight and the other tomorrow night.”

“He knew he was running out of time. He was on a spree.”

“Seems that way. SIU is here, I had my interview already.”

I wanted to ask her how it went, what they said but I knew
she wouldn’t answer. It wasn’t supposed to be discussed with other officers
involved in the case, a rule set in place to prevent corroboration of details.
Not that everyone obeyed the rule, but I knew Kara would.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun. First one I’ve been in. I guess it’ll
be yours too.”

I nodded. “When do they want me in?”

“As soon as you’re back on your feet.” She stopped for a
moment. “Sorry, not the right thing to say. I had Francisco Reales in there
with me, he said he’d be your rep as well.”

“No,” I said. “I shot him on my own, I’ll answer for it on
my own.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I know they want to clear you for
this, Link, but why go it alone if you don’t have to?”

I took her hand in mine and looked deep into her eyes, “I’ll
be fine, don’t worry about me.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

It was Kat. And the last bricks came tumbling down. Kara and
I pulled our hands away from each other quickly, an action that made it obvious
that Kat had, in fact, interrupted something. Kara gave me a nod and walked out
of the room with Kat’s eyes following her every step.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” I said, lying to my wife yet again. “She just
felt bad about my ankle and what happened today and she was stressed out from
her SIU interview.”

Kat didn’t buy it. “I thought things would get better
between us, it seemed that way on the phone. You came home, everything was
going to go back to normal.”

I tried to maintain eye contact with her but I lacked the
strength.

“Are you fucking her?”

She was beyond angry. Kat never swore. Then I realized this
wasn’t a swear word. It was just a verb.

The words knotted in my throat as I tried to speak, I
couldn’t lie to her. All I could do was nod.

She didn’t cry, not even a flinch. She had known it was
coming for only a brief moment but she had prepared for it.

“You’re not the man I married,” she said, her face devoid of
emotion. “You’ve forgotten your family, gone back on your vows, and you’ve
killed a man.”

“I had to,” I said.

“I saw it on the news, Link, shot in the back. You shot an
unarmed man in the back, and you try to tell me you had to?”

“He was going to kill again, I was the only one there.” I
pointed to my ankle. “I couldn’t chase him anymore.”

“You murdered someone, whether they were a killer or not.
God does not look kindly on killers.”

“Don’t start spouting that religious bullshit on me again.
He had to be stopped one way or another.”

“Don’t you even feel badly? Don’t you feel guilty? Don’t you
wish it had happened differently?”

“Of course I do. I didn’t get into this job wanting to kill
people. If I could have caught him I would have. But do I feel bad or guilty?
Not at all. I saved lives today, Kat, something your God should be happy about.
And the only guilt I feel is for not killing him sooner, for letting another
woman die.”

“What does your mistress think? Is she happy he’s dead?”

“What the hell do you think? He almost killed her for
Christ’s sake.”

I never saw the slap coming. She swung fast and hit me hard
across the jaw. Her expression never changed, she refused to show how much I
was hurting her.

“I’ll bring the kids by tomorrow,” she said evenly. “After
that I’m taking them home with me for a few weeks. You need some time to figure
out where we go from here and so do I.”

“Home? Poland?”

She nodded.

“I won’t allow it. You can’t take them out of the country
without my permission.”

“Then I’ll go on my own and leave them with you.” She
slapped my cast twice, sending pain up my leg that made the morphine feel like
children’s Tylenol. “Think you can take care of them?”

I hated to concede, but she had a point. If she was going,
they were too.

“Fine. Type up a letter and bring it tomorrow, I’ll sign it.
Four weeks, Kat. I want them back in four weeks. And do me a favour; bring me
some clothes that will fit over my cast. Please.”

She left without a goodbye and I cried myself to sleep.

Kat kept her word and brought the kids by as I lay in a
hospital bed eating my so-called breakfast. Kasia and Link came running up to
me when they saw me, Kasia worried about my cast and Link going on about how
cool it was.

“I’m going to get a coffee, kids, I’ll be back in a bit,”
Kat had told them within moments of arriving.

The kids shared their excitement with me about their
impending trip, happy to be going to see their
babcia
and
dziadzio
.

“It’s too bad you can’t come, daddy,” Link had said, “but
mommy says you have to stay home and get better.”

“She’s right, Link.” I had been lying so much lately, to
myself and my family, that it almost felt natural. “You’ll only be gone for a
few weeks and I’ll be a lot better when you get back.”

“Will you still have this?” Kasia touched my cast,
feather-light.

“Yeah, I need it for about six weeks honey, maybe longer.”

“That sucks, dad.” Link again. “It’s summer soon.”

“I know, bud, but after the six weeks I can get a walking
cast. I won’t be running around but we’ll be able to play.”

Both their eyes lit up, happy to know I wouldn’t be bedridden
for the entire summer. I pulled them into the bed with me and we sat and talked
about what we would do this summer once they got back and everything they
wanted to do while in Poland. They hadn’t been back in two years and Kasia
remembered little of the last trip, but that didn’t diminish her excitement.

Half an hour later Kat came back. She didn’t speak to me as
she handed me a piece of paper and a pen. I read it over, simple and to the
point: “I, Lincoln Munroe IV, provide permission for my spouse, Katarzyna
Munroe, to take our children, Kasia Munroe and Lincoln Munroe V, to Poland for
a period of four weeks beginning June twenty-two, two-thousand-one.

I signed below where Kat had typed my name. “You leave
tomorrow?”

“I found a substitute for the last few days of school and
I’m taking the kids out. I told them my mother was sick, they didn’t question
it.”

I nodded. At least I wasn’t the only one lying.

“It’s time to go, kids,” she said. “We have a lot to pack.”

I was smothered in hugs and kisses before Kasia and Link
hopped off the bed. “Get better daddy,” Kasia yelled followed by a “love you”
from both.

“I love you too,” I said. “Have fun and call me lots.”

“We will,” Link assured me as they walked out the door
leaving me alone again.

* * *

Kara picked me up four hours later after I was discharged
with a prescription for Percocet I had no intention of filling. I had seen too
many people fall prey to opiates and I was determined I would not be one of
them.

We spoke little until I was sitting in her car, my crutches
secured in the trunk. “She’s gone,” I said at last.

“What do you mean?”

“She took the kids and went back to Poland, just for a few
weeks.”

“I’m sorry, Lincoln. I really am.”

I knew she was, but at the same time I knew she had a ray of
hope inside, the thought that we could be together now. I knew because the same
feeling rested inside me. It was a feeling I had to chase away; my marriage was
hanging on the precipice and needed to be pulled to safety.

“She knows everything now,” I said, “but I wonder if it was
me killing Saunders that hurt her more.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, an affront to God apparently. I guess the, ‘Though
shall not kill,’ ranks higher on the list than, ‘Though shall not commit
adultery’.”

“Then she’s an idiot, Link.”

I didn’t argue.

“I mean, you didn’t have a choice and you saved the lives of
at least two women.”

“I know, I stand behind what I did. She’ll never accept it
though.”

“Her problem. If doing your job tears you two apart, maybe
it’s for the best.”

I gave a nod but wasn’t sure. I wasn’t ready for it to be
over yet.

“Where to?”

“The detachment. SIU still there?”

Kara nodded.

“Time to get it over with,” I said.

We talked about the case as she drove. I guess we wouldn’t
be needing the task force now, at least not to the extent I was expecting. But
that was the least of my worries. It was all over the news and internet now—the
media had wasted no time. They knew Saunders was the killer and they knew more
details than I wanted them to know about how he was killed. How I had killed
him.

I had been the public face of the case in the news. An
African-American detective shooting a man in a residential area in the middle
of the day led to a number of witnesses willing to tell their story. And it
didn’t take long for the press to put two and two together. The debate in the
comments section of the newspaper’s website was raging between those praising
me and those demonizing me. I wondered if Kat had posted, accusing her husband
of murder.

It didn’t matter to me. There were those who would never
back the police no matter what had happened, no matter how many lives had been
saved. Granted shooting an unarmed man in the back did not sound good on its
face.

We arrived at the detachment and I met with investigator
Jonathan Tsang. He would be conducting my interview, which would be audio and
videotaped. There were no secrets, nothing was off the record. Fifteen minutes,
he had said, grab a coffee and meet me in the interview room. My heart was
pounding as Kara and I sat in the cafeteria, a green tea in my hand to calm my
nerves.

Kara took my hand in hers, my pulse throbbing against her
soft skin.

“Try to calm down, Link, you did nothing wrong.”

“I know,” I said, my blood still racing. “How do you feel
when you’re off duty, just driving along, and a cop pulls out behind you?”

She laughed. “Like I’ve done something wrong.”

“Even as cops we feel it, that’s all this is.”

“They want to clear you, Link, I know they do. You did
good.”

I smiled and finished my tea. The clock on the wall told me
it was time to walk. Kara caught me looking at the clock and stood up beside
me. “I’ll walk you down.”

No argument, she was my pillar now.

She saw me to the door and stood close as I hobbled my way
along, then waited to make sure no one was looking before kissing me gently on
the cheek. “I’ll be in the office when you’re done,” she said. “You’ll be
fine.”

No words, no gestures. I opened the door and walked in to
face my fear.