Episode 18: "Officer-involved Shooting"
Day Two
Scene One
Jim sat next to the windows in the locker room, waiting for his coffee to cool and gathering his strength for what promised to be a trying day. Running a gauntlet of reporters outside the precinct, while repeating "no comment, no comment," was not the way he wanted to start the work day.
Karen stuck her head in the door and called softly, "Jim?"
"Yeah, over here."
"Boss wants to see you in his office." She hesitated before adding, " . . . the Chief of Ds is there."
"Okay, I'll be right there." Jim took a deep breath and headed for Lt. Fisk's office. A tête-à-tête with the Chief of Ds wasn't the way he wanted to begin his day, either.
He knocked on Fisk's office door and was told to enter. "Chief Tunney is here, Jim," Fisk told him.
"So I was told," replied Jim. He extended his hand, hoping he was extending it in the Chief's direction. "Good morning, Chief."
"Good morning, Detective," Tunney responded, taking Jim's hand. "I'm sure it's no surprise that I'm here because of the incident yesterday . . ."
"No, sir," Jim replied, shifting to face the Chief.
". . . or that concerns about your safety in the field have arisen because of it. There is a lot of sentiment in the Department in favor of taking you out of the field and assigning you to desk duty."
Tunney paused, looking first at Fisk, then at Jim. When neither of them said anything, Tunney continued, "In deference to your record and your experience, I am not taking that step at this time. However, when you are out in the field, you are to be accompanied at all times by your partner or another officer. No more going solo. I've had to go to too many cops' funerals. I don't want to have to go to yours. Is that clear, Detective?"
Jim swallowed hard before responding. "Yes, sir."
Tunney looked at Fisk, who dismissed Jim. "That's all, Jim. You can go."
Jim turned and walked out of Fisk's office, back to his desk.
"What was that about?" Karen asked.
Jim pressed his lips together and turned toward her. "I'm sure the boss will be telling you any time now," he said. His voice had a bitter tone Karen had rarely heard.
A few minutes later, Tunney walked out of Fisk's office, followed by the lieutenant. "Karen, Tom, Jim," he called, "my office, please."
Tom and Karen exchanged a glance, and Karen looked thoughtfully at Jim as the three detectives crossed the squad room to Fisk's office. Once they had entered, and Jim closed the door behind them, Fisk began. "As you know, the Chief of Ds was just here. Because of yesterday's incident, the Chief has ordered Jim not to work on his own when he's in the field. Karen, you or another officer is to be with him at all times."
"But, boss – " Karen began.
Fisk held up a hand to stop her. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. The Chief made it clear this is not open for discussion. That's all," he said sternly.
When they left Fisk's office, Karen and Tom turned toward their desks, but Jim went in the opposite direction, toward the locker room. Tom gave Karen a questioning look. She returned the look, then followed Jim. She found him standing next to his locker, drumming his fingers on the door.
"Jim?"
"Yeah, what do you want?" he snapped.
"Jim, I – " she began.
He cut her off. "I guess you're wishing you'd asked the boss to reconsider our arrangement when you had the chance, huh?" The bitter tone was back in his voice.
"No, I told you I'd be your partner, no matter what, and I meant it."
"Yeah, but you didn't know you were going to have to babysit the blind guy."
"Look, Jim, we work together most of the time, anyway," she pointed out, trying to reason with him. "Nothing's really going to change because of this."
Her reasonable tone seemed to get through to Jim. He sighed and turned toward her. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. But. . . ." He shook his head in resignation. "I just want to do my job."
Karen studied her partner. She had never seen him like this, and she didn't know what to say. In the months she and Jim had worked together, she had been so preoccupied with learning how to work with him and working their cases, that she had never stopped to think about what Jim had had to give up, and the compromises he'd had to make, since losing his sight. Even when he decided to stop carrying a gun, she hadn't fully appreciated what those losses meant. Now she did.
"It'll work out. We'll make it work," she assured him.
"Thanks, Karen. Give me a minute, will you?"
She left him standing by his locker and went back to her desk.
Scene Two
Jim, Karen, and Tom spent the rest of the morning doing follow-up on the murder of 'Fast Eddie' Wilson. After a couple of hours working the phones, they had learned more about Wilson, but not much that would tell them who killed him, or why. Fisk came out of his office and handed Tom a sheaf of papers. "Search warrant came through on Wilson's apartment. Tom, Karen, I want you to get over there. And make sure crime scene covers all the bases."
After Karen and Tom left, Fisk went over to Jim's desk and leaned over to speak to him. "Jim," he said, "you know my sending Karen and Tom to execute the search warrant didn't have anything to do with what happened yesterday."
"I know, boss," Jim replied, with a tight, humorless smile. "Sending me would be a waste of time. But thanks." He turned back to his computer and began writing up his reports on the morning's work.
Scene Three
Karen and Tom finished the search of Wilson's apartment and headed back to the squad. As they walked down the hall toward the squad room, they continued the discussion they'd begun in the car on the way back.
"I'm just saying," Tom asserted, "A guy like that shouldn't be out on the streets."
"What, you want to put him in jail? He wouldn't last a week. He's sick, Tom, not a criminal."
"I know. But there are hospitals – "
Karen interrupted him. "The hospitals don't keep people like him for more than a few days. Then they're back on the streets. C'mon, don't you remember when you were in uniform? You take someone in to mental health, and three days later, he's right back where he was before."
"Yeah, I know, but there are clinics and places where they can go to get their meds, right?"
"Get real, Tom," Karen scoffed. "Someone like Jerry's not going to take his meds if he doesn't have to. You know that."
"I guess so, but where's his family? Why do they let him live on the streets like that?"
"You know, Tom, you really have no idea what you're talking about." Karen reached her desk and threw down her notebook. Without speaking to Jim, she turned and stalked into interview room two, closing the door behind her.
Jim turned around. "Tom?"
"Yeah, right here."
"What was that all about?"
"You got me," Tom replied. "We were talking in the car on the way back about Jerry, you know, the crazy guy Marty shot yesterday. I don't know what set her off."
"Where'd she go?"
"Room two."
Looking concerned, Jim headed to the interview room. He knocked softly, then opened the door. "Karen?"
She was sitting at the table with her head in her hands. When she heard Jim's knock, she looked up. "Yeah, I'm here."
"You want to tell me what's going on?" he asked, keeping his voice low and undemanding.
"Not really."
"Karen – "
"All right, all right, but this stays between us, okay?"
"Sure."
"I have a brother, did you know that?" Jim shook his head, but she didn't wait for his response. The words seemed to spill out of her. "His name is Stephen. He's my big brother, seven years older than me. When we were growing up, he used to tease me all the time, but he looked out for me, too, never let anyone else give me a hard time. I always looked up to him. . . ." Her voice broke.
She took a deep breath, then continued. "When he was in college, he started to change. At first, my parents thought he was just acting weird because, well, because he was a college kid. Then he dropped out of college. By that time, he was acting really strange and saying things that didn't make any sense. When he told my parents he was hearing voices, they freaked out. I was just a kid – still in middle school – so I didn't understand a lot of this at the time. I just knew something was terribly wrong with my big brother. . "
"Was it – schizophrenia?" Jim asked gently.
Karen nodded. "That was the diagnosis. My parents tried to help him, they really did. They got him to go to the hospital, and the doctors put him on meds. But he hated them. He said they made him feel like a zombie. The doctors would change his meds, but he said the new ones were just as bad. He'd stop taking them and disappear for days or weeks at a time. I think he was drinking a lot and maybe taking street drugs, too – you know, self-medicating."
She stood up, walked to the widows, and looked out. "The last time he came home was two years ago. We got him to go back to the hospital, but they didn't keep him there. When they discharged him, he disappeared. We haven't seen him since. He's somewhere out there, on the streets. Or maybe he's in prison, or dead. We just don't know. Every time we go someplace like the park, where homeless people hang out, I'm always looking for him, wondering where he is and if he's all right."
Jim walked toward her and stood behind her. "God, Karen, I am so sorry. . . .And what happened yesterday. . ."
She had to swallow before she could answer. "Yeah, that was hard. When I saw Jerry lying there. . . I knew it wasn't Stephen, but all I could think of was him."
"Are you okay?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, I just need a few minutes by myself. And thanks."
"Sure." Jim left the room and went back to his desk.
"So – you gonna to tell me what's going on?" Tom asked.
Jim shook his head. "Sorry, but no." He sat down at his desk and brought a hand up to his mouth, thinking.
Epilogue
Scene One
On Marty's first day back from leave after the officer-involved shooting team ruled the shooting was justified, Fisk called the squad into his office.
"We're back at full strength now. Let's keep it that way. Tom, you get Marty up to speed on what's gone on during his little vacation."
"Okay, boss."
Oh, and Marty, the Chief of Ds has ordered Jim not to work on his own in the field. That means one of you three has to be with him at all times. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Marty replied, giving Tom an "I told you so" look.
Jim clenched his jaw. Anxious to change the subject, he asked, "Have they found out anything more about Jerry?"
"Yeah," Fisk answered. "It's a pretty sad story. He's a college graduate, an engineer, if you can believe it. He was married and had a kid. He had some kind of breakdown and was hospitalized when he was in his twenties. He's been in and out of hospitals and jails ever since then. His record is mainly misdemeanors, nothing violent. His wife and family tried to help him, but it was too much for them, I guess. He wouldn't take his meds, and when he was off them, he'd take off and disappear."
"What happens to him now?" Karen asked.
"They're going to keep him in the hospital for the time being. The DA hasn't decided whether to file. Based on what Jim told me, it sounds like he was having delusions at the time of the shooting." Jim nodded his agreement. Fisk continued, "They'll make sure he takes his meds while he's in the hospital, but he probably won't once he's released."
"So they'll just put him back out on the street?" Karen demanded. "So the same thing can happen again? Only the next time, maybe he'll end up dead." Fisk, Tom, and Marty stared at her, shocked at her outburst. Jim bowed his head, looking somber.
"Yeah," Fisk replied. "Probably. It's not our call. That's all."
Karen Marty, and Tom filed toward the door. Jim waited to follow them. Before Karen got to the door, Fisk addressed her. "Wait a minute, Karen," he said, gesturing to her to stay. "Close the door behind you, Jim."
After Jim closed the door, Fisk asked her, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm all right."
"Look," Fisk persisted, "there's been a lot going on, with the shooting and all. If you need anything, you let me know."
"Thanks, but I'm okay, really."
"All right. Have Jim come in, will you?"
When she got back to her desk, Karen told Jim, "Your turn. Boss wants to see you."
Jim entered the office. "Close it," Fisk ordered.
Jim complied and turned back toward Fisk. "What the hell is happening with your partner, Jim?" Fisk asked.
Jim frowned, looking uncomfortable. "She's okay, boss – just a little on edge, you know, because of the shooting. She'll be fine."
"We can get Psych Services in, if she needs it."
Jim turned his face away from Fisk as he considered how to respond. Finally, he said, "Karen can handle it, boss," seeming to reassure himself as much as Fisk.
Fisk sighed, looking doubtful. "If that changes, I want to know about it. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right. Close the door on your way out."
Scene Two
Late in the afternoon, Jim sought out Marty and found him in the locker room. He was standing by the windows with a cup of coffee.
"Marty?" he called out as he walked in.
"Over here."
Jim approached him. "I just wanted to say thanks – for having my back."
"No problem."
"Oh, and welcome back, by the way. This place just isn't the same without you," Jim told him, with a wry grin.
"Thanks." Marty paused, looking thoughtful. "You know, Jim, maybe this whole business wasn't such a bad thing."
"Why do you say that?" Jim asked warily.
"Well, it's been kind of a wake-up call, you know. . . ."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't you think we were all getting just a little too complacent?"
"About what?"
"About – well, about the fact that you're going out there – and you can't see. I mean, Karen even seems to forget that you're blind, sometimes."
"Well, I don't," Jim said, sharply.
"No, I guess not," Marty replied, looking uncharacteristically solemn. After a moment, he continued, "But, you know, the Chief's order for one of us to be with you when you're in the field isn't such a bad idea. I mean, think of what could have happened that day if I wasn't close by."
"Thank you for the reminder," Jim told him sarcastically.
"Look, I'm just saying – "
Jim interrupted him. "Sorry to disappoint you, Marty, but I'm not going to give the brass an excuse to bounce me out of here."
"Damn, I thought we were finally gonna get lucky," Marty retorted as he turned and walked out.