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Acresville, May 25
1:16 p.m.
Dr. Judy Galloway looked directly into Allan’s eyes. “When you think back to the shooting yesterday, what aspect of the incident affected you most?”
“That I was forced to take the life of another human being,” Allan said.
“Would you say that was the worst part?”
“Yes, most definitely.”
They sat in David’s office, just the two of them. It was part of the critical-incident interview that had been arranged after the shooting of Herb Matteau.
Galloway appeared to be around Allan’s age, with perceptive blue eyes, blond hair, and subtle makeup. She wore a tailored red business suit, and she spoke in a quiet, level voice tinged with a distinct Newfoundland accent.
“Was this the first time you had to use lethal force?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“If you were to watch a videotape of the incident, only your twin brother was involved, how would you rate his actions?”
Allan paused for a long moment. “Ten out of ten.”
Galloway studied his expression with a cool curiosity. “That’s a high mark.”
“Yes.”
“What was the best part of the incident?”
“Best part?”
“Yes.”
Allan spread his hands. “That neither my partners nor I were seriously hurt.”
“Were you functioning normally before the incident?”
Allan stared at the desk between them. “I’ll admit I was angry.”
“With whom?”
“The suspect.”
“Why?”
Allan looked up. “Because he had murdered four people and shattered the lives of three families.”
Galloway wrote something down. “As the shooting took place, did you experience any perceptual distortions?”
“Everything seemed to slow down.”
“Did you experience tunnel vision?”
“Yes.”
“How about amplified or diminished sounds?”
“My shots sounded like a cap gun. Not as loud as they should’ve been.”
“When you saw the suspect bringing his gun up toward you, what went through your mind?”
“That I was going to be shot.” Allan breathed in. “I heard of officers, when being shot at, suddenly wonder if they had unplugged the toaster before leaving home in the morning. But nothing weird like that happened to me. I really didn’t have time to think, only react.”
“How did you feel right after the shooting?”
“Shaken.”
Galloway tilted her head. Looking into her face, Allan felt himself being appraised.
“How did you feel when you found out the gun wasn’t loaded?”
Allan crossed his arms. “Guilty. Regretful.”
“Did you second-guess your decision to shoot?”
“No. From my vantage point, I couldn’t tell if the gun was loaded or not.”
“So you don’t blame yourself?”
“No.”
“Were you still angry with the suspect at that point?”
“Yes, a bit.”
“Why?”
“Because the man had used us to take the easy way out.”
“So you don’t feel justice was served?”
“No.”
Galloway sat back. Finger to her lips, she seemed to consider his answer.
“It’s been twenty-four hours since the shooting,” she said. “In that time, what physical responses have you experienced?”
“I feel tired.” Allan moved his shoulders a fraction. “That’s all.”
“Did you sleep well last night?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Galloway continued to write. “Were you preoccupied with what happened at the shooting?”
Allan shook his head. “Not really. I thought about it, but not obsessively.”
“How do you feel about yourself, Detective?”
That gave Allan pause. “Myself?”
“Yes. Do you feel good about yourself? Are you happy in your life?”
Allan winced inside, suddenly uncomfortable. He contemplated his answer in pained silence.
No, he wanted to tell her. He wasn’t happy. He felt alone. He felt troubled. He clung to a forlorn hope that his life would improve in some way.
“I feel quite good about myself,” he said and then found himself unable to look at Galloway.
“If, in the coming days,” she told him, “you begin to experience vivid flashbacks or nightmares; if you experience any increased feelings of anxiety, anger, or irritability; or if you find yourself becoming estranged from your family and friends, be sure to call me at once.”
She gave him her business card.
Allan stared at it.
“I will,” he said at last.
“I would like to see you again in a week, Detective.”
Allan looked at her. “To see if I’m showing symptoms of something?”
Galloway nodded. “To see how you’ve been coping. You need to realize that you’re human. It’s normal to feel things.”
