Deakins looked at the two plainclothes officers in front of him. Beyond them stood three uniformed officers. Two stood silent and stoic, the third paced near them, listening to Deakins talk with the officers from Internal Affairs.
"I talked with Detective Eames, and she told me what went down. Detective Goren has a…gift for being able to talk to people. Eames was giving him the chance to talk Morrison down. If anyone could do it, I guarantee Goren would be the one. When Morrison drew on him, there was no choice. She said Morrison fired first, then Goren fired. He fired twice, both bullets struck Morrison on the torso. Morrison also fired twice, into Goren's chest. Those four bullets are accounted for and confirmed that they came from those two weapons. Now comes the odd part. Morrison took two more bullets, and Goren was hit in the head. That's three bullets unaccounted for by the primary parties involved in the shooting. Goren took out the perp and he had the situation under control; there was no reason for anyone else to get involved. As for my detective getting shot, I am furious about that, and I want to know exactly what the hell happened out there. Detective Eames did not fire her weapon." He looked at the two officers and their sergeant, then back at the two officers in front of his desk. "Ok, I'm waiting. I want answers and I want them now."
The two internal affairs officers turned to look at the precinct cops. The sergeant said, "You have their guns."
"Yes, we do," Deakins agreed. "And both weapons had been discharged. The other two slugs recovered from Morrison matched Patrolman Carson's weapon."
All eyes turned to Bill Carson's partner, Dean Rogers. Deakins stood up and looked at the young officer. "Well, Officer Rogers?"
"We were there for backup. When the shooting started, I followed my partner's lead and I aimed for the perp."
"But your shots went wild. How do you explain that?"
Rogers looked at the floor. Their sergeant, a ten year veteran named Carl Monahan, spoke up. "This was his first shooting, Captain. We all know that none of us can predict how we'll react when the time comes, no matter how much training or preparation we have."
"So what went wrong, Rogers?"
"I thought I had it, sir. But my hand started shaking…and my weapon has a light trigger…and I…lost control of it. I didn't…I didn't mean to shoot your detective. I…I'm glad he's going to be ok, though."
Deakins leaned on his desk. "You're lucky he's going to be ok. I've already talked with your captain. Your disposition will be up to him, but don't count on going back on the street any time soon." He motioned toward the door with his head. "Now get out of here."
The three officers left and Deakins sat back down. The senior internal affairs officer, Trevor Andrews, said, "Have you talked to Goren or Eames since this morning?"
He nodded. "I talked with Eames about a half hour ago. Goren has two fractured ribs from Morrison's bullets. Good thing he was wearing his vest. It took fifteen stitches to close the wound in his head from Rogers' stray bullet."
"Well, I don't thing there's anything more we need from you, Captain. We'll clear Goren in the shooting and as soon as he sees psych and they clear him, you can give him back his gun."
They shook hands and the two officers left Deakins' office. No surprises there, the captain mused as he sat back down. Goren wasn't completely a 'by-the-book' cop, but when he drew his gun, he followed procedure to the letter. He had a cop's instinct, honed by a lifetime of being a cop. Deakins never doubted his detectives when it came to these situations, and he always backed them a hundred per cent. They had never let him down.
He rubbed his eyes. Alex had told him that she was worried about her partner. He wasn't talking about the shooting yet, but she knew he was troubled. Well, if there was anything he had learned over the last five years, it was that Goren and Eames would take care of each other. Alex would take care of her partner, if anyone could, and like it or not, Goren would let her. He felt good that they would be ok. They just needed some time…time to rest and to talk. And when they came back, Goren would see psych to be cleared for duty, and he would put his best detectives back on the street, to do what they do best.
He looked at the clock. Almost six…geez…he was going to be late for dinner. He finished the report that was in front of him, signed it and dropped it in his 'out' basket. Then he headed for the elevators.