"I kept looking in the hopes that I'd I see something. And I actually did. I saw Luther Mahoney open a safe and start taking money out of it. He was looking totally crazed and that explained to me why he'd forgotten to close the drapes if something was going on—because he wasn't thinking, he was just acting. He was making mistakes."

Pembleton nodded unconsciously. This girl was good, he thought.

"Then someone burst into the apartment behind him, with his gun out. When I read about this story in the newspapers I found out it was a detective named Meldrick Lewis. He came in, and they talked a little, but before I could barely blink, Meldrick Lewis was beating up Luther Mahoney! I was like, ohmigod, I'm watching police brutality!"

Pembleton winced. "Why didn't you call the cops? Or an ambulance?"

That gave Rachel pause, like she hadn't considered that idea until this very moment. "Yeah, I guess that's what I should have done, but I couldn't move. I couldn't take my eyes off this. This was unbelievable. I never saw anyone get beaten up before. And by a cop! Well, no, I didn't know he was a cop at that moment. Wait, did I know? Hold on a second, I messed up the story. Oh, right, of course I knew. I said I heard the sirens, didn't I? Yeah, in my head I knew he was a cop but I didn't actually see his badge. He just didn't look like one of Luther Mahoney's . . . crew."

"What happened next?"

"As Meldrick Lewis was beating up Luther Mahoney—I mean, the guy was barely fighting back—Luther Mahoney grabbed Meldrick Lewis's gun! I was totally freaking out now because now I thought maybe there was something I could do, but obviously there wasn't. I was trying to imagine myself doing something heroic that involved sharpshooting, but that's ridiculous. It never even occurred to me to do something simple like call the police.

"But Luther Mahoney isn't shooting Meldrick Lewis, they're talking. Then, two more cops burst in! A man and a woman. Again, only later did I find out their names, but I'll use them now—Michael Kellerman and Terri Stivers. They both run in yelling. They were probably saying that Luther Mahoney should drop his gun—I mean, that's logical, right?—but he wasn't dropping it. I could tell that Luther Mahoney was talking from the way he was moving his jaw even though by now he had turned his back to the window. Before he had been standing in profile and I could see the blood on his face.

"So now Michael Kellerman is talking to Luther Mahoney. Luther Mahoney seems to be letting his guard down, laying down his gun, and for a second I'm thinking, oh man, he's going to press charges against Meldrick Lewis and I'm going to have to testify against a cop, but if nobody knows about me, then I won't do it, I won't come forward. Police brutality is obviously bad, but Luther Mahoney is a drug dealer and a murderer. Like I should sympathize with that?