God Told Me To Read Free

channels.
    A replay of the interview with the sniper’s mother. He didn’t want to hear her cover-up accusation again. He snapped the sound switch on the remote control and watched the silent film. Near the end, when the man again came on screen and gestured angrily at the camera, Nicholas wondered who he was. The father? A family friend? Did it matter?
    He turned the sound back up as his own face came on screen.
    It was after everything was over and he was back down on the street giving his statement. His features were worn and troubled and streaked from the rust and grit of the tower. He had tried to avoid the interview but Hendriks had insisted he make a brief statement.
“. . . I arrived just before 2:30. The entire area had been cordoned off and the sniper’s position had been pinpointed. Our first concern was medical care and then it became evident that there were no wounded to take care of. They were all dead. Though at the time we still did not know exactly how many victims there were . . .”
    Nicholas hadn’t been aware of what he said while making the statement. As he watched himself he had the odd feeling that he was living those few moments for the first time. He was embarrassed by his dirty face. But around his eyes his face was strangely clean, as if he’d been wearing goggles. He didn’t recall rubbing or wiping his eyes after coming down from the tower.
“. . . I’ve never come across such accuracy in any similar situation. At any rate we limited the sniper’s ability to fire. He was wedged in behind the tower and we cleared the avenue of any possible targets . . .”
    I should have said victims , Nicholas thought, any possible victims .
“. . . The sniper had made no attempt to escape when he could have. He simply holed up and waited for us to come and get him. It seemed evident we were dealing with a psychopath and that it might have been possible to talk him into surrendering. I got permission from Captain St. Clair to go up and talk to the man.”
    “And I succeeded,” Nicholas said to his televised image. “I had him ready to surrender. What went wrong?”
    Detective Jordan appeared on the screen.
    Nicholas sneered, “There he is—my so-called backup man.”
    Jordan was always around to collect a little glory. He was overweight and puffy and wore a suit too expensive for his salary. He hid behind a big beefy smile.
“Usually, see, we use a bullhorn or somethin’, but Nicholas, he insisted on climbing up. I told him, Hey this guy’s killed seventeen people, you can’t . . .”
    You’re lying, thought Nicholas. At the time we still didn’t know about the two bodies that had rolled under cars. All you said were curses and complaints.
“. . . but like Nicholas is a very religious guy. He goes to Mass every morning. The kind of guy, separated from his wife but won’t get a divorce because he is such a good Catholic. I don’t put him down for it but that’s how he thinks. Like he’s got Jesus in his pocket. Maybe he does. So anyway up that ladder he goes and me, I act as his backup.”
    Nicholas spoke with anger: “Any further back and you’d have been in Pittsburgh.”
    An off-camera reporter asked Jordan:
“Detective Jordan, what exactly happened once you and Lieutenant Nicholas confronted the sniper?”
    “Well, I think you fellas are pretty much aware of the resultant tragedy. We’ve still got to write our official report. I imagine the department will be releasing more details to the media a few hours from now. In the meantime you can tell one and all the lieutenant is one hell of a cop.”
    Once more Nicholas remembered climbing the ladder. He felt the grit blowing into his face. Heard the whining wind. Before poking his head over the top of the tower, he had called out:
    “I’m coming up. I’m Detective Lieutenant Peter Nicholas. I just want to talk.”
    He had paused for a moment. When no response came to his call, he slowly peeped over the edge.
    The sniper had not