Yellow Mama E zine

TRULY BLIND JUSTICE

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by Gary Clifton

 

             The two-second staccato of gunfire exploded out front, then silence. A cop’s nightmare—search warrant gone south.

White barked, “Get against the house. They can’t see us with the door and windows boarded up!”

           Several seconds of silence passed. Somebody out front shouted, “Ceasefire! Perp’s down!” ATF Agent Dave Kobok and Detective Tom Wafer were assigned to the completely boarded-up rear. Kobok stepped up on a porch stoop. The doorknob twisted from inside. The bullet made almost no sound penetrating the rotted wood. Kobok grabbed his left thigh and fell off the porch. “Damn, Tom, I’m shot.” The pain in his voice was evident.

            The backyard filled with cops. Someone ripped open Kobok’s trouser leg. The bullet had not fully penetrated and was clearly visible imbedded in Kobok’s skin. The wooden door had absorbed the bullet’s muzzle velocity. Several splinters protruded from the wound. The leg was in full spasm. A uniformed sergeant knelt over Kobok and flicked the slug out with his thumbnail. “Usta be a EMT. Damn, that was close to yer junk.” The leg ceased the spasm.

           When the door finally opened, a pudgy little man with dirty, shoulder-length hair and arms saturated with tattoos, clawed out into twenty cops pointing guns in his face. He dropped his small pistol and fell to his knees, hands clasped in the prayer position.

           “Good God, Pinball,” a Homicide detective quipped. “Boys, everybody recognize Pinball Carter, dime-bag dealer and general screwup?” Many in the crowd did recognize the small-time crook, including Kobok.

           Pinball realized he’d shot Kobok. “Man, I was runnin’ with the gun in my hand. Sucker went off when I tried the doorknob. I woulda never took no shot at no cop, ‘specially a damned Fed. God help me.”

           Painfully, Kobok stood. “Believe you, dude, but there’s gonna be a Federal judge who may think otherwise.”

          Kobok walked to an ambulance, received first aid at County General, and Wafer dropped him at home. He never told his wife and children he’d been shot.

          Pinball was held without bond on charges of attempted murder of a Federal officer. Kobok visited him. He swore he was on the premises to score some skag and wasn’t peddling.

         Of the other three inside, one had been killed exchanging shots with cops. The other two were charged with possession with intent to deliver, and resisting arrest. Both were freed on minimal bonds. Both confirmed Pinball’s claim that he was present to buy dope and had nothing to do with peddling.

           Both the FBI and City Homicide interviewed Kobok. All took offense that Kobok felt that Pinball was stoned, frightened, and had no intention of firing through the door.

          Both dealers arrested in the dope house pled guilty to lesser charges and were sentenced to probation.

          Pinball was found guilty by a Federal jury. Kobok testified that he thought the shooting was accidental. The judge declared that if a man had a gun, he intended to use it, then sentenced Pinball to life in Leavenworth without parole.

*

            Leavenworth officers stood around a male corpse with the stomach slashed open.

           “Warden, thought you might wanna see . . .”

           “Just got off the bus? What’s he in for?”

           “Shot a Federal officer.”

           “Mope needed killin’.  Some con didn’t like the street name, Pinball.”

 

       Gary Clifton, 30 years a cop, has been shot at, stabbed, sued, and lied to and about. He is currently retired to a dusty North Texas ranch and doesn't give a damn about much of anything. Clifton has six novels available on Amazon and other outlets. He has approximately 140 short fiction pieces published in Bewildering Stories and other publications. He is a review editor for Bewildering Stories. 

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       It's well known that an artist becomes more popular by dying, so our pal Steve Cartwright is typing his bio with one hand while pummeling his head with a frozen mackerel with the other. Stop, Steve! Death by mackerel is no way to go! He (Steve, not the mackerel) has a collection of spooky toons, Suddenly Halloween!, available at Amazon.com.    He's done art for several magazines, newspapers, websites, commercial and governmental clients, books, and scribbling - but mostly drooling - on tavern napkins. He also creates art pro bono for several animal rescue groups. He was awarded the 2004 James Award for his cover art for Champagne Shivers. He recently illustrated the Cimarron Review, Stories for Children, and Still Crazy magazine covers. Take a gander ( or a goose ) at his online gallery: www.angelfire.com/sc2/cartoonsbycartwright . And please hurry with your response - that mackerel's killin' your pal, Steve Cartwright.