The Lesson of Her Death (43 page)

“I only wanted to help you, son.”

“I never did anything to you,” Philip whispered.

“Son, I know you didn’t hurt those girls.”

“You were talking to the sheriff. I saw you.”

“I was giving him that purse you hid. The note! The note was inside. You know what I’m talking about! It shows you didn’t kill her.”

In a voice more assured and more adult and more frightening than Halpern had ever heard, Philip said, “I’m sorry, Dad, but the handy man’s here.”

“I wanted to help you,” his father said.

Philip said, “Hold out your hand.”

Bill Corde stepped silently past a drowsy old mutt, chained to the worn railing of the front porch. He slipped through the door and made his way toward the back of the house along the pink carpet runner, stained with dark patches. He smelled dog piss and old food and bleach. He could see Philip in the kitchen, holding the dark gray gun. He could see Halpern nearby. He could see a woman’s white arm ending in long polished nails. Corde stopped in the dining room outside the kitchen doorway. He left his revolver holstered then took his hat off and set it on a dusty Sanyo TV. He paused next to the dining room table, which was covered with sticky soiled dishes and scraps of food, crusts from last night’s pizza. In the center of the Formica a large paisley spill of ketchup had coagulated darkly.

“Hi, Philip,” Corde said softly.

Creth Halpern jumped at the sound. His wife’s shocked face appeared in the doorway. Philip looked at the detective, uninterested, then back to his father and said, “Hold out your hand.”

Halpern said slowly to Corde, “He’s got himself a gun.”

“Hold out your hand!”

Halpern raised his hands above his head.

“No, not up. Handy man is here. Hold
out
your hand! You know how to do it.”

“Phil,” Corde said. The boy looked at him for a minute then back to his father. When Corde moved a step closer to the living room Philip raised the gun to the center of his father’s chest.

“Philip,” Corde said, speaking casually. “Why don’t you set the gun down? Would you please?”

His parents looked helplessly at Corde. He saw despair in their faces and he saw that the boy’s father wore it the hardest.

“Please honey, please son,” his mother was whimpering.

Philip looked at her. He smiled. He said, “Open the refrigerator.”

“Please honey.…”

“OPEN IT!”

She screamed, and tore open the door. Philip held the gun up and fired a ringing, deafening shot into the bottom of the pitcher. The stained beige Rubbermaid exploded in a mist of gin. His mother screamed again. Neither Corde nor Halpern moved. Philip turned back to Corde.

Corde said, “Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

Philip laughed triumphantly. “You think I don’t know about that? That’s what they tried with Dathar. They tried to fool him. They lied to him but he didn’t believe them.”

“We want to help you, Phil.”

“Jamie turned me in.”

Corde said sternly, “No, he didn’t. I talked—”

“He did.”

“He didn’t!” Corde shouted furiously, risking the boy’s reaction. “I talked to him about what happened. Some people at the sheriff’s office tricked him. He didn’t know they followed him. He was trying to save you. He has a message for you.” Corde held his hand in the Naryan salute.

The gun in Philip’s hand wobbled. “He said that?”

“He sure did.”

Philip nodded and smiled weakly. Then he turned to his father and spoke in a mournful voice, “You didn’t come see me.”

“They said I couldn’t. There was visiting hours. I was coming tonight. Like at the hospital when we went to visit Gram. They said I could only come at four o’clock.”

Philip looked at Corde, who said, “That’s true, Philip. It’s the Sheriff’s Department rules.”

The boy’s eyes swept the floor.

Outside when he heard the gunshot and the scream, Charlie Mahoney put aside the Motorola walkie-talkie on which he’d just called T.T. Ebbans and Hammerback Ellison. He pulled his federally licensed automatic pistol out of his pocket and started up the porch stairs.

After following Corde here he had waited on the front steps considering what to do next. The gunshot ended the debate. Crouching, taking a fast look through the rusted, torn screen, he pulled the door open and crawled onto the porch. The lime green indoor-outdoor carpet was filthy and Mahoney’s expensive gray plaid slacks ended up hoof-marked on the knees with dirt.

He watched them talking, Corde and the Halperns, until the two squad cars silently pulled up. He crawled back to the door, opened it and motioned the men forward. Ebbans and Ellison went around back and Slocum and a county deputy held up on the front steps where Mahoney signaled them to stay.

Mahoney crawled into the living room.

“Son, please, there’s nothing to be gained by this.…”

“Philip, your father and mother and I want to help you.”

The boy was crying now. “He’s always hitting me. I don’t
do
anything but he hits me.”

“I want you to be strong,” Halpern said. “That’s all. I know you have it in you. It’s going to be all right. They’ll see the note and you’ll be free. Tell him about the letter, Corde.”

Corde asked, “Letter?”

Halpern said desperately, “The note! Tell him!”

Mahoney stood then walked along the corridor into the dining room, holding his breath not only to keep silent but to keep the stink of the dog piss and rotting food out of his nostrils.

“What note, Halpern?” Corde asked.

“Didn’t the sheriff tell you?”

Mahoney eased forward. A board creaked.

Corde spun around and saw him. “No!”

The boy’s silver-dollar eyes saw Mahoney and he raised the gun. Mahoney did the same. Corde lifted his arms, palms out, his back to Philip and stepped in between them. His nerves bristled at the thought of a Smith & Wesson muzzle ten feet behind him and a Browning automatic’s the same distance in front. “Mahoney, what the hell are you doing here?”

“You fucking son of a bitch, Corde, get out of the way! You fucking—”

“Get out of here, you’ve got no business! …” Corde was shouting. Mahoney was dancing in the doorway, jockeying for a target. The boy stood frozen with fear, the muzzle pointed at Corde’s spine.

“Philip,” Corde shouted over his shoulder, “drop the gun! You’ll be okay. Just—”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!” Mahoney shouted.

Philip’s hand drooped. His father looked at him and said, “Put it down, son. Please.”

The gun sank lower.

A shadow flashed across the kitchen floor. Mahoney shouted, “Drop it!” And fired two shots into the ceiling.

Ebbans and Ellison leapt into the kitchen. Philip whirling toward them, Ellison screaming in panic, “He’s shooting he’s shooting take him out!” The men’s hands vanished in ragged flares of muzzle bursts. Mahoney dropped to the carpet. One slug hissed past Corde’s left ear as he collapsed on the floor. Philip spun around and around. Then he fell. Corde scrabbled toward him, shouting, “No, no, no!” Philip’s father stood frozen, his right hand outstretched toward his son.

In the enormous silence that followed, Charlie Mahoney stood up and steadied himself on a pink metal table. He knocked off a flower pot, which broke and scattered a wiry geranium along the carpet, a flower as red and dazzling as the artery blood that sprang from Philip’s neck and chest and soaked the filthy floor that may at one time have been white.

PART THREE
Close Pursuit

HARRISON COUNTY SHOOTING INCIDENT INQUIRY BOARD SUMMARY OF FINDINGS

The matter before the Board is the death of a minor, Philip Arthur Halpern, 15 (the “Suspect”), who was shot and killed by County peace officers after an escape from New Lebanon town jail where the Suspect had been incarcerated following indictment on charges of murder, manslaughter, rape and sodomy.

On the afternoon of May 8 the Suspect was struck by shots fired by Thomas T. Ebbans, Chief Deputy, and Bradford Ellison, Sheriff, Harrison County. It was determined that Deputy Ebbans fired two shots, hitting the Suspect twice in the chest and Sheriff Ellison fired four
times, hitting the Suspect once in the neck. All bullets were recovered. The Suspect was pronounced dead at the scene.

The facts surrounding the shooting are not in dispute. When shot, the Suspect was holding a loaded .38-caliber Smith & Wesson pistol which he had taken from a New Lebanon town deputy whom he had severely beaten when he escaped earlier in the day. The Suspect acted in a deranged manner and it apparently was his intention to shoot his father. Also present were the Suspect’s mother, New Lebanon Detective William Corde and Charles Mahoney, a licensed and bonded private investigator from Missouri who was acting as consultant to the New Lebanon Sheriff’s Department.

As Detective Corde was attempting to talk the Suspect into surrendering, Sheriff Ellison and Deputy Ebbans approached from the rear entrance to the house. Mr. Mahoney stated that the Suspect suddenly raised the gun and, according to Mr. Mahoney, “was about to discharge his weapon at Detective Corde and myself, causing me to fear for our safety.” Mr. Mahoney fired two shots at the Suspect, missing both times. Sheriff Ellison and Deputy Ebbans heard these shots and assumed the Suspect, who had turned and was pointing his gun at them, had begun firing. They returned gunfire which resulted in the Suspect’s death.

It is the conclusion of the Board that the shooting of the Suspect was justifiable and that both Sheriff Ellison and Deputy Ebbans acted within the boundaries of prudent law enforcement. Detective Corde testified that the Suspect had not been about to fire and we agree that Mr. Mahoney was perhaps premature in firing the shots that precipitated the killing. However, that was a judgment he made during an extremely
stressful confrontation and this Board is prepared to accept that his behavior was justified under the circumstances.

Testimony was given by the Suspect’s father that prior to the incident, he delivered to Sheriff Steven Ribbon of the New Lebanon Sheriff’s Department a note purporting to be evidence casting doubt on the Suspect’s guilt. Sheriff Ribbon testified that he felt the note was of such importance that he personally took it to the state laboratory for forensic analysis and through a miscommunication, none of the law enforcement officers at the scene of the shooting were made aware of the note’s existence. However, the existence and authenticity of the note bear solely on the issue of the Suspect’s innocence with respect to his prime indictments in one of the murders of which he was accused; they are irrelevant with respect to the escape and the incidents of assault that led to the shooting.