“Inspector Jacobi was calling an ambulance.”
“Where was his gun?”
“It was holstered.”
“You’re sure of that.”
“Yes. He was on the phone. His gun was holstered. I yelled ‘Gun’ just before Sara shot me. I saw Jacobi turn and see me fall. Just then, Sam Cabot fired on him—hitting him twice.”
“You’re sure you saw all this, Lieutenant? You didn’t lose consciousness?”
“No. I was conscious throughout.”
“Did Inspector Jacobi lose consciousness?”
“Yes. I thought he was dead. I saw Sam Cabot kick him in the head, and he didn’t move or try to protect himself.”
“You saw Sam Cabot kick Inspector Jacobi in the head. Please continue.”
“Maybe they thought I was dead, because they seemed to have forgotten all about me.”
“Objection. The witness is speculating.”
“Sustained.”
“Just tell us what you saw and heard and did,” Yuki said. “You’re doing very well.”
I dipped my head and tried to focus.
“I heard Sara tell Sam that they should leave the scene,” I said. “I got my gun out of my holster and demanded that Sara Cabot drop her weapon. She called me a bitch, then fired several more shots at me. Then I returned fire.”
“What happened after that?”
“Sara dropped to the ground, and Sam started screaming at me that I’d shot his sister. Again, I demanded that he drop his gun, which he refused to do. I shot him also.”
“Tell me, Lieutenant, did you want to hurt those children?”
“No, of course not. I wish with all my heart that none of this had ever happened.”
“In your opinion, if Sam and Sara Cabot hadn’t been carrying guns, could this tragedy have happened?”
“Objection,” Broyles shouted. “Calls for a conclusion on the part of the witness.”
The judge leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling through her thick black-rimmed glasses. Then, having decided, she snapped back upright.
“Sustained.”
“Lindsay. Is it true that in your ten years in Homicide, you’ve been cited for excellent arrests on thirty-seven occasions and received fifteen unit citations and twenty meritorious-service commendations?”
“I didn’t keep count, but that sounds about right.”
“In short, Lieutenant Boxer, the San Francisco Police Department would agree with Inspector Jacobi’s description of you. You’re a ‘damned good cop.’”
“Objection. Counsel is making a speech.”
“Thanks, Lindsay. I’m done, Your Honor.”
Chapter 97