JASON STARR - Panic Attack

Adam stared at the body for a while, trying to pro cess what he’d done.

He’d shot a man. He’d shot and killed a man.

Then he looked toward the guy’s right hand. There was a flashlight two stairs above the guy’s head, but Adam didn’t see any gun. There was no gun on the staircase or on the floor at the bottom, either. Maybe the guy had fallen on it and it was under his body.

Adam remained, staring in a daze at the man he’d killed until the police started banging on the front door.

It was almost four in the morning, about two hours since the shooting, and the Blooms’ house was still filled with cops. Dana and Marissa were in the downstairs den with Dana’s friends Sharon and Jennifer, who had come over during the commotion. Adam was at the dining room table, sitting across from Detective Clements, a weathered, gray- haired guy who reeked of cigarettes.

“So you saw Sanchez on the stairwell,” Clements said. The cops had found a New York state driver’s license and other ID in the dead guy’s wallet and had learned that the victim was thirty- six- year- old Carlos Sanchez from Bayside, Queens. They’d already done a search on Sanchez and discovered that he was a career criminal with a long rap sheet and had been released six months ago from Fishkill, where he’d been serving a sentence for multiple drug- dealing convictions. Adam had already described everything that had happened prior to the shooting at least once, but Clements was still digging for details.

“Well, I didn’t see him,” Adam said. “I saw a figure. You know, a shadow.” Adam was exhausted, so out of it that it was hard to focus. The whole night seemed surreal- the nightmare about the giant black rat, waking up, the shooting, and now sitting here with this detective. He knew it would take a while before he could pro cess and accept what he’d done. Meanwhile, he had a splitting headache, and three Advils hadn’t made a dent.

“Yet you could tell it was a man,” Clements said.

“Yes,” Adam said. “I mean, I heard the noise from downstairs, him coughing or clearing his throat or something. There was no doubt it was a guy. My wife and daughter heard it, too.”

“And then you shot him.”

“No, it didn’t happen that quickly. I mean…” He had to think; for a moment he actually couldn’t remember what had happened, the exact sequence of events. It was all blurry, disor ganized. Then he said firmly, “I didn’t just shoot him. I saw him make a move first, like he was going for a gun.”

“Did you see a gun?”

“I thought I did, yes.” He felt uncomfortable, like Clements was trying to catch him in a lie. “I mean, I could see his arm. He was coming up the stairs and I was afraid any second he’d start shooting. Look, what was I supposed to do? The guy was in my house, coming up the stairs, and my wife and daughter were in the bedroom. I didn’t have any choice.”

“Did you give him any warning?”

“What do you mean?”

Adam had heard the question; he just wasn’t sure how to answer it. He was also getting frustrated by the discussion in general.

“Did you tell him you had a weapon and did you ask him to drop his?” Clements asked.

“No, but I told him to get the hell out of my house, or something like that.”

“And how did he respond?”

Adam remembered that the guy had said something, started to speak, might have said, “Please, don’t-” Adam hadn’t told Clements about this because he didn’t see the point. What difference did it make either way?

“I don’t think he said anything,” Adam said, “But, look, that part happened very fast. I thought he was about to start shooting, he was in my house. Why? I had a right to defend myself, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did,” Clements said.

“Then why do I feel like you’re interrogating me?”

“I’m not interrogating you, I’m questioning you.”

“What’s the difference?”

Clements almost smiled, then said, “Look, I don’t think you have anything to worry about legally, all right, Dr. Bloom? You were in a tough situation and you did what you had to do. You got B and E and, yeah, that gives you the right to protect yourself. As long as your gun license checks out I don’t think you’ll have a problem. But I just gotta say, it’s a good thing you’re not a cop.” He turned a page in his pad, then asked, “What about the other intruder?”

“What about him?”

“Him. You said that before too. How do you know it was a guy?”

Adam thought about it for a moment- it was still hard to think clearly- and said, “I guess I don’t know that. I just figured it had to be two guys.”

“But when you fired your gun you were unaware there was a second intruder.”

“Correct,” Adam said.

“So I guess that’s why you spent a whole clip, huh? You didn’t think you had to save any bullets for anybody else?”

Clements had already raised this issue of why Adam had fired ten shots, and Adam had explained that he’d done it because he wasn’t sure he’d hit the guy, that he was just trying to defend himself. But Adam didn’t like how Clements was bringing it up again, like he was trying to get to the bottom of something.

“I just wanted to make sure I…” Adam was going to say “killed him” but modified it to “-got him before he got me.”

Clements, shaking his head while looking at the pad, said, “It’s a good thing you’re not a cop, Doc. It’s a good thing you’re not a cop.”

Adam had had enough. He asked, “Is it okay if we pick this up later, or in the morning? I’m exhausted and my head’s killing me and I’ve been through a lot tonight, obviously.”

“I understand, but there’re still a few things I need to be clear about, okay?”

Adam breathed deeply, then said, “For instance?”

“For instance,” Clements said, “the issue of how exactly the intruders got into the house.”

They’d been through this already, too, at least a couple of times. The police had found no visible signs of a break- in, but both the back door in the kitchen and the front door had been unlocked, and the alarm system had been disarmed. Adam had told Clements that he was positive that he’d set the alarm before he went to bed, the way he did every night.

“Didn’t we cover all of this already?” Adam asked.

Acting like he didn’t hear this, Clements said, “Are you sure you locked and chained the front door before you went to sleep?”

“Yes,” Adam said.

“Is it possible you went out, or your wife or daughter went out, maybe to take out the garbage or something, and forgot to-”

“No, I was the last one to go to bed last night, and I chained the door. I always lock and chain it if I’m the last one to go to sleep, it’s part of my nightly routine. I make sure the gas is off in the kitchen, lock all the doors, set the alarm, and go to bed.”

“So assuming all this is correct, the other intruder must’ve unlatched the chain on the front door on his way out of the house.”

“That has to be what happened,” Adam said. “I heard the front door slam.”

“So that means the intruders likely entered the house through the back door.”

“Yes,” Adam said, squeezing the back of his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension.

“And are you positive you set the alarm and no one else disarmed it after you set it?”

“I’m positive.”

“But the alarm wasn’t set when we arrived, is that correct?”

“If the alarm was set the guy,”- Adam caught himself-“the personwould’ve tripped it on the way out.”

“That seems to make sense,” Clements said. “So who-”

“I have no idea,” Adam said.