ME WAS DA BAD GUY
DONALD HARRY ROBERTS
Donald Harry Roberts on Shakespir
Me Was Da Bad Guy
Copyright 2016 by Donald Harry Roberts
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Shakespir.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Ok. Here it is. My story…my version…the true version…not the one that the news rags spewed out like so much rainbow coloured vomit.
The bullet went in my chest…high and to the right, ricocheted off a rib…or maybe a shoulder bone….then a rib. It got a little mangled and went south scraping past my heart…tearing it to shreds. Yup…I was dead before I keeled over and hit the ground. According to the news hounds and the police investigator it was a righteous kill….kill or be killed….self-defence…my killer was a cop…I was the bad guy.
The big city rags said I was a murdering low-down bank robber who’d killed at least 7 innocent people and injured as many more….one was in a wheel chair for life…..”This maniac deserved to die. And maybe I did…if you believe everything you read in the newspapers.
So…there I was….dead as a door-nail and on my way….probably to hell if figured as I descended through the dark nether regions between life and death…the living world and the after-world…According to the righteous I certainly wasn’t going to any place nice.
Well folks….I hate to burst your bubble but that’s not how it goes….even bad ass, maniac killers like me get a chance at redemption….so sit your sorry butt in a comfy chair and I will gladly enlighten you. Its ok if you want to get something to sip….or nibble….You might even want a libation with a little bite to it….unless of course you’re one of those tea totalling type of folks.
Good….are you all settle in….Ok…allow me then to introduce myself and engage in a little back ground info.
My name is Fenwal Burshenwak…which….as you might guess is not the best name to have stuck to your name patch. I got it switched into a nick-name as soon as I quit school. Fenny. Just Fenny….and I never said if it was my first name or last name….Just Fenny….later some quick draw news hound added….Fenny the Slasher…which was appropriate in a way since I really liked knives and I used a knife to do my job for my boss who treated me better than anyone ever had and paid me well for my services…I was sixteen and a half when he took me into his confidence.
Ok…you got all that…now….here’s a description…I ain’t big and tall and muscular and handsome….not even close. The best I can get from the dames is….Aren’t you cute.
I got mousey brown hair….mousey brown eyes, pixie like nose and my head looks a little too big for my four foot ten and a half inch stature….held up on two thick bow-legs and balanced with a pair of apish arms….some….especially the news jockeys said I looked like and over-sized chimp with grey skin and a sloppy pinstripe suite. Given my looks and name you can probably guess I lived with ridicule most of my childhood….But all that changed when Slick Morganfield took me on and people found out I was tough….strong and dangerous…..and yes…a little maniacal….well…maybe a lot maniacal….and I absolutely loved knives….switch-blades for small jobs….and big bad bowie-knives for bigger jobs.
I was never both…homicidal and maniacal….aka a homicidal maniac….I was a precision assassin and every hit was well planned out with never a witness or a single clue left behind as to my identity. The rags just made a lot of it up as they went along….and it wasn’t until I got a bullet in the heart and was dead that they actually got a good look at me….thought Cy Bundle….the news bop for the city rag had an inclination I was the Slasher…..Morganfields person hitman/assassin.
So now you got a pretty good picture of me….but I gotta tell you….I never robbed a bank or killed anyone with a gun…..but you can’t tell a cop who is fixated on his own version of truth and believes I robbed banks as a sideline….considering the description of the robber included….a very short person…..for the record…that killer is still out there…somewhere.
So now you know what the living world k new….or thought it knew about me….Now I’ll move on….
So there I was….dead….dead….dead….literally broken hearted….LOL. And the cop that killed me stood there looking as proud as a peacock in full heat. Idiot…..but even if they had known I wasn’t the bank robber they would have considered my death a boon to the city….
Now get this….the spirit me….looked just like the mortal me….I guess that was part of my punishment aka redemption journey…..a kind of purgatory I guess…that place where the good guys say we get the chance to clean up our act and get a spot in heaven instead of hell…..Don’t hold your breath though….take it from me….it ain’t quite like that either.
I had a chance to see my corpse…..for about a half hour actually….time enough for a lot of people to poke and prod the lifeless husk of yours truly and a bunch of spectators to make all their profound observations about the likes of me…..It wasn’t the best of moments I had had in my 29 years…..I guess what really bothered me….when I had the chance….briefly….later….to stop in was…Slick Morganfield didn’t even acknowledge that he knew me….but I guess….as a business man he felt it detrimental to be associated with the likes of me….Ah to-shame….to-shame….
But on with my story….I think you will like it……
There was no bright beautiful white light or golden arches or angels….nor was there any dark hole and demons waiting for me. I simply appeared in another place….another city…..at the signpost that read…Welcome To The Metropolis of Lightfield.
You might have…..lots of people might have….but I had never heard of any such place….but there it was….all in its gothic…. half old and creepy and half ultra-modern self…..and damned if it wasn’t snowing….and….there was the smell of the ocean…..just like back home…..
A bus stopped and I got on. I fished out some coins and dumped them in the pot. It must have been enough because the driver let me go. The six other riders stared at me….I was use to it but there was a difference…..It didn’t make me feel like slashing them….as it always had when I was still upright and breathing….Instead I felt sorry for them…..I kept my mouth shut and sat down for the ride….an hour later I was down town in the ultra-modern glow of skyscrapers and neon lights…not confused in the least that I was there or why I had been dumped in the core of a strange Metro. Fact is…I knew why I was there. It came to me in a vision during the ride into the city.
My name was still Fenwal Burshenwak and I still looked like an oversized Chimp but here in Lightfield I was a totally different person but remembered who I had been and was still haunted by the old, angry, maniacal creature who liked nothing more than slicing up my Bosses enemies.
I got off the bus and started exploring though the new me knew the city inside out….upside down and backwards. I had gone but a few blocks when a 1920’s Bentley Six Speed pulled up and the door opened. It was mine and I knew it and I knew where it would take me.
I got in and said…”Hello Wilford.”
My chauffer replied simply….”Good evening Sir. Welcome home”
Now I am sure you are curious as to who I am….was in Lightfield….I won’t keep you in suspense….First….in the light of day for all the world to see…I was…Fenwal Burshenwak a ost beloved ambassador of Peace and President of the International Clean Earth Society. Pretty much the exact opposite to Fenny The Slasher.
But hold on…..there’s more….and I think you will like this…..But let’s get home first…..
Home was a big old…well-kept Victorian/Edwardian cross over mansion with 17 rooms in the main house and a servant’s wing of six room. If you didn’t catch on yet….I was not only important….I was rich as well….I mean wealthy to unimaginable reaches of the state. Quite a place this purgatory…but I’ll tell you now it ain’t all peaches and cream and wine and cheese parties….There was another side of the coin….the real purgatory and path to my redemption….
Wilford drove out of the ultra-modern into the Gothic regions of the city where all the houses were…well Gothic and a little creepy but one could see it was lousy with wealthy folk. He dropped me off at the front entrance of my relic then followed the drive around to the back. The ornate wooden door opened as I scaled the steps to the entrance. I was met by….Jeeves….yes…..you read that right….Jeeves….my faithful butler who always reminded me of a version of Ebenezer Scrooge…the crusty version…though Jeeves didn’t have a mean bone in his body.
“Dinner in an Hour Master Fenwal. It’s your favourite this evening….Spiced pork…boiled whole potato and Brussel sprouts sautéed in garlic and honey.”
He then took my fedora and Watch coat as I stepped in then moved aside. There is a brandy and cigar in the smoking room and…..a note from Him….
Besides me Jeeves was the only one that knew about Him…whose name was never mentioned not even in private. Suffice to say Him was the managing force behind my redemption…
I retired to the smoking room to wait for dinner and enjoy my brandy and cigar and of course examine the note.
To Mr. Fenwal Burshenwak Esq.
“Your redemption is at hand…you have proven yourself worthy but there is one final task for you to complete before you can move on.
In that part of the city….a dark and dangerous place…..known as The Panhandle…….something wicked is working in the shadows.”
I guess some description of Lightfield’s Panhandle is required….Well here it is….and I hope you never mishap into these fell coated streets….
Every city in the world has its version of the Panhandle…In Lightfield it is a finger of the city that juts out into the ocean 18 blocks long and six blocks wide. Docks line both shore lines and the streets are filled with every description of bad guy and scuzz-ball the imagination can conjure up….Just like….well…..me in my old life….
Now to continue the with my handler’s note.
“There is a young woman…not a beautiful creature but a beastly thing…with a hunched back, warted face, twisted nose and eyes that are grossly offset. She is being drawn in by hatred and will soon succumb to the horrors of the hatred growing in her young mind. Her fate rests upon your shoulders. Guide her from this fiendish path into the light….Time grows short…do not delay. You can find her at the Ragaru Nightclub…one of the Panhandles most horrifying places.
The sun was setting….the hour of five…of a winter’s night….A soft snow fell and was building fast on the sidewalks….A pleasant evening for most…out for a stroll…but for those living in the shadows of evil…habituating in the alleys and doorways…skulking in the walk tunnels and huddling close to the barrel fires the snow and cold were a vicious enemy that could drive them to the brink of evil deeds…for money….or food….shelter or booze…or…..drugs….
I devoured my dinner and commanded Wilford to bring the car around and drive me to the Mid-Town subway station. “No need to wait Wilford…I will be away the night and maybe the morrow…I will call you when I am ready to return.”
The subway. No matter how bright or how many lights there are the subway tunnels always seem dark, dingy and dreary….and scary when the platforms are all but abandoned. I went underground and found only one other person….the type that may be there to get out of the weather….and young….too young to be street bound. My gut churned but it was not mine to deal with now……Mine was more urgent…..
The train car was empty for three stops then a small crowd…university students obviously …boarded and were causing….what…..not trouble….they were having fun….they were being middle class kids on a night out….I wished them all the fun they could have and hoped everyone would return safely…..
They rode all the way down town and got off at Central Station. I followed….then jumped a cab to the edge of the Panhandle…From the border one could already see the broken…bludgeoned state of Lightfield’s oldest section…the original. Downtown….once state of the art and fashion, business and financial world….now….the slums. How does that work?
I paid the cabbie and started my sojourn along Junction St that cut the Panhandle in half…length wise.
I saw the familiar….people just like me in the old world….mortal world….I could see it in their eyes…the skin art displayed on their arms and chests and backs and one daring woman who had a Tatt of a jacket but was actually naked. What the heck…it ain’t legal….just dangerous….
I could smell the rot of hate growing like mould in the dark corners of doorway and down alleyways. I wondered now how I could have ever lived in such wretched squalor.
The deeper into the Panhandle I trod the more sickened I felt. I wanted to fix everything…but that of course would not be possible. No one person could fix everything. We…as individuals are lucky to be able to fix ourselves and one other thing.
I was nearly in the middle of the Panhandle when I spied the red neon sign blinking Ragaru…beer, liquor and woman was etched in florescent paint on the street window.
“Ragaru…Werewolf….I chuckled….in this world it was possible….Anything was possible in
Lightfield. But I wasn’t afraid….death had its advantages…You do much harm to someone who is already dead….except to yourself by making wrong choices in purgatory where you were supposed to be cleansing yourself.
I went inside. The rot got thicker…..No Werewolves….just monsters that looked an awful lot like human beings…..of a horrible kind.
I glanced about giving the place a quick once over….not looking for my quarry but for anything….any one that might get in my way….that might need my brand of justice….
My brand of justice. It was not much different from my brand of horrors…..I still carried a knife and I used it for the same purpose….or could if I needed but in all my time in Lightfield I had not wielded it in violence….only as a visual aid of warning…an 18 inch blade said a lot…
Still. It made me wonder how much my purgatory self was different from the corpse I left behind. Maybe it was only a matter of perception….but whose perception….right….wrong….what?
I didn’t try to hide my blade or why I was there. Here in Lightfield I was feared…not as the Slasher but as The Blade…a dangerous vigilante. A harbinger of raw justice. I could not help wonder how this all worked out to be redeeming…..maybe it didn’t…..maybe I was busting my balls for nothing….”Nah. They wouldn’t do that to me….Him would not guide me down the path of no redemption. What would the point be then…
I was twenty feet inside when I spotted her. She was…..through my eyes the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Maybe that why I was chosen to rescue her from a fate born on wretchedness. Only someone like me would recognized that beauty….a beauty within that was masked by outward visual effects and being slowly over shadowed by the unseeing cruel…naked eye of humanity….what humanity…it was like trying to make sense of humane slaughter….
I went to her. She was on the edge of drunkenness and getting ready to give favours to slime-ball greaser.
I took her arm and dragged her away. A brute thought about stopping me but I drew out my 18” blade and he backed down. The greaser ordered two other brutes to GET me. They came. They paid the price….not death but pain…..enough pain to stop them cold in their tracks.
“What are you doing?” The woman demanded….trying to break away.
“Saving myself by saving you. Come with me. There is a better life. You do not have to live this way.”
“Hey…look at me….I am the ugly of ugly….who is going to help me….give me a job….fix my ugliness…Who?”
“Come with me and I will show you.” As the words spilled out my mouth I had no idea what was going to happen….how I could help her. All I knew is my handler ordered me to get her out. I could only hope he would show me how.
She complied. I asked…”What is your name?”
“You are trying to save me without even knowing my name. Yer nutsoid Mr.”
“Just tell me>” I commanded.
“Alright. It’s Joy. Joy Singer.”
“Well Joy Singer. My name is…”
“Dear me….look at you…you’re….” she cut me off….then I cut her off.
“So ugly you’re beautiful.”
“Just like you…So ugly you are absolutely Gorgeous.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I called Wilford on my cellphone and told him to meet me at the same subway station he dropped me off at.
I thought things had gone well and that in an hour all this would be behind me….us…..but it wasn’t over….not by a long shot…..
“We are being followed.” Joy warned.
“I know. We will have to run for it. There are too many even for me to deal with.”
“I cannot run….not very well at least.”
I snatched her up and looped her over my shoulder. “I can….just hang on.”
I ran like I’d never ran before.
I…we must have looked the sight….An oversized chimp with a hag over his shoulder running his ass off along the crud filled streets of the Panhandle with a half dozen men about the size of mountains chasing us. If it had not been so frightening it would have fit well into a comic book. But it was frightening and real and any thought of humour escaped me….especially when I heard the report of gun fire…..Bang….Bang….Bang…
“Are you hurt?” I asked nervously.
“No but they got close.”
I ran faster….hardly believing I could run faster….and turned corners….ducked down alley ways and darted from shadow to shadow. My strength was beginning to wane. My heart banged in my chest like a bad ass bass drum. I began gasping for air. I felt the shot ram into my hip. I stumbled. I fell and I tumbled and Joy rolled into a dark corner.
I managed to regain my feet. Six human beasts began to circle me.
I drew my blade and stood ready to fight. This time the brutes were not startled by me. In fact they laughed. Hideously.
I backed up until I stood with Joy behind me. “They can’t hurt me. I am already dead.” I told Joy….and myself but I did not feel very reassured.
Joy tugged at my sleeve. “Let me go. They want me back. If you give me back they will let you go.”
“Nope. Just stay behind me. Everything will be ok. Now just start backing up slowly.”
Joy did what I told her.
“Keep going.” I instructed keeping my eyes glued on the brutes….and their guns wondering why they had not gunned me down yet.
There was no pain where the bullet had hit my hip. I should have been down and out.
A siren chirruped….if you can call it a chirp. The six gun men turned but didn’t run.
“What’s going on here?” I thought but then decided it did not matter. I grabbed Joy again and ran…and ran…..and ran….all the way to Central subway station. The cops were waiting….So was the sleaze-ball from the Ragaru…
“Great….” I groaned. “There’s bad cops in Purgatory. I suppose that makes sense. Redemption doesn’t come easy or cheaply.
I set my stare on the sleaze-ball and readied my blade. If it was going to come down to a fight I’d set Joy on her way and take the creep out before I went down.
“Get on the train and go.” I ordered.
“No. Not without you. We can both get away. Come on. I can run a little. The train is getting ready to leave. Joy pulled me with all her might and we tumbled on to the subway car a split second before the door slid shut. The greaser stood there scowling angrily. He turned and shot the two cops.
Wilford met us at the station. We climbed in the car and I felt safe for the first time in hours.
“Are you rich?” Joy asked accusingly.
“Very.” I answered.
“What do you want with me?”
“Nothing. You are my redemption….or part of it.”
“Redemption. From what?”
I shrugged my shoulders and gave her a smile. “It’s a long and horrifying story not unlike your own.”
“I was beautiful once. A long time ago…In a different city…..far away from here.”
“You are beautiful now Joy….to me.”
I guess it something one ugly person sees in another ugly person and the other beautiful people have an ugliness within that only other beautiful people can see….If that makes sense?”
“Somehow the way you put it….it does make sense in a senseless sort of way that maybe only people like you and I can understand.”
“We final arrived home….well my home. Joy was going to be a guest….for how long I could not know. Not until my handler contacted me again. I wondered if my redemption was complete now or there was still more I had to do…with or for Joy.
I waited….weeks and weeks….then three months. We hardly ever went outside….Even when we did it was in the car and never in public within the city limits. Mostly we went for drives in the country side….just to get out of the house.
One day we visited a small….quaint village northwest of the city…..when we returned there was finally a note from Him.”
It had one word in it.
We did…..out of the city….just in time. My beautiful home was invaded. My servants….I’ll never know because I never went back. I could not have gone back even if I wanted to….which I did not because….well….I did not want to know what happened back there…..Maybe nothing….maybe the worst.
I drove the Bentley as fast as it would go out of the city…north and east then turned west the north again…stopping only to refuel and eat…..sensing that we had pursuers not far behind….which was unfounded….though I did not know at the time that they…the sleaze bags and cruds could not leave the city.
The country side streamed by…No Towns….villages…no cities….just endless rural roads….no houses….no crops….no cattle or sheep or any rural sites except wilderness.
Then we ran out of gas…..lost in that endless rural domain.
The sun rose….the sunset….then it did it all again…..We walked…..drank from a stream……ate wild apples slept and walked some more. Two beautiful ugly people in a world of ugly beautiful people but utterly alone in a nice….perfectly groomed wilderness…..Then
A house…..an enormous house….an enormous farm house….Smoke rising from a stone chimney.
“I guess this is where we are supposed to go since there hasn’t been any other place.” Joy said softly….musedly.
“I guess.” I answered but in a few more steps Joy was gone….the house was gone and the wilderness turned into darkness….raining darkness……and at my feet….me…..dead……dead as a doornail….back where I started…unredeemed….it seemed….alone….ugly without beauty….forsakened and forlorned….I had failed….I knelt and wept…my path…..where was I being led.
In the mortal world they had left me in the street to rot…..so I thought but as that thought flited through my mind my body shimmered and vanished. The night turned to day. The street came alive and the sun….the glorious sun shone so bright I had to shield my eyes…..And the sky was a blue not even the most masterful painter could have painted.
And all the people were beautiful ugly on one side of the street and on the other they were ugly beautiful. Then at the intersection they mingled and it was difficult to tell which was which until they were each on the other side of the street only mixed and happy….and finally there she was Joy.
I saw her only for a moment then world went grey and dark and misty and wrangles with colour and…..nothing….absolutely nothing….like being aware but unconscious….in….yes…..in a coma…..then back on the street staring down at my cold dead corpse.
“Again….when is the end” I shouted….frightened and angry.
There was no reply. Just a cold dark rainy night with my corpse lying abandoned in the street.
I started walking….into the ultra-modern metropolis where my mortal self had lived….killed and died and now was wondering in ghostly form hither and tither…going absolutely no where….but not in circles….nor in a straight line…..zig-zagging….yes that’s it…zig-zagging but nonetheless going nowhere…wandering aimlessly…After all this I was a aimlessly wandering ghost,,,or….was I?……Why not go home…..That must still be there….my apartment….over my Bosses bar…maybe that is part of my redemption……Go home.
And that is what I did and what I found was…..insane…or simply more insanity to add to the already insane story I have just told you.
I was there….alive and well….ugly as ever…..mean as ever….blood thirsty as ever….unredeemed….unrepentant …unchanged in the slightest way.
Then….nothing…..I mean nothing……nothing….nothing….just empty nothing….no light….no dark….I was not standing or sitting or lying down…how else can I explain nothing…..can you imagine nothing…..probably not because in life there is no such thing as nothing…..there is always something……but here….where-ever here was….there was nothing…..
And there I was…locked in oblivion…yes….oblivion…that is what nothing is.
Ok….The other thing one loses is time….rather….a sense of time….oblivion/nothingness is like being caught up in an empty second in one’s existence when and where nothing happens in a vast….ye-gads there it is again…..a vast nothingness. And yet you are saddled with a sense of waiting….anxiously…trimmed out with anxiety….like waiting on a city bus that seems like it‘s never going to come no matter how intensely you try to wish….or will it to.
Then for a second….a split second you stop thinking about it….a reprieve as your mind drifts into some other hopelessness and suddenly the bus arrives.
Suddenly I was in a room….not a good room…..a room with the images/ghostly apparitions of every victim I had ever encountered as the slasher….and every one of them were staring at me with an unspoken question on their lips….in their eyes or reverberating in my mind…..”WHY?”…a question I had only one answer for….which my mind yelled out… “MONEY”
Then they yelled back….. “GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK!!!” as they through money in my face…..1000 dollar bills coming at me like a torrential down pour of cold hard….bloodied cash….yes the bills were soaked in blood….and when my hands touched the money they instantly began dripping that blood.
As suddenly….all that vanished….and once again I was on the street standing over my cold dead corpse….but this time that corpse stood….rather weakly but it managed to get itself upright. And its cloudy eyes fixed on mine….its lips parted in a hellish grin and began to move. The voice that rumbled up from the depth of its gut spewed a rash of ugly words that assaulted my ears like projectile vomit.
“You Ugly cuss. Get back in us. We had a good life until you let us get killed and for what…..Redemption? Are you really so asinine to think that the likes of us can find redemption. Whoever gave you such a ludicrous idea. Look at us….things….beasts like us are molded in hell by the great sinner himself. Rejoin with me so we can live….”
I listened but I did not really listened….I felt bathed in a solution of relief….a sense of freedom one can only experience when one steps out of the darkness into the soothing light of…..of…..what is the light made of…….Yes…….of forgiveness….the kind that come for the universe and cleanses your spirit and makes you realize the mind fashions your character and the body is merely the minds vehicle…..and the body and the ugly words of other bodies should not and will not influence the mind if you chose not to allow it.
I felt warm….at peace and full….full of Joy. I woke in a room with gentle light and rich wooden walled with a carpeted floor. A soft voice touched my mind trickling in through my ears.
“Welcome to your new life Fenwal Burshenwak. I believe you are ready to leave us and join society again.”
I recognized the voice…opened my eyes and fixed them on its host.
“Joy….Joy Singer…..Then this was all an illusion…delusion….hallucination…or……or what.” Came rushing excitedly past my lips.
“Not exactly Fenwal. You have been a patient at the Lightfield Rehabilitation Centre for The Criminally Insane for 5 years. Today you will be transferred to a Halfway house to help you re-integrate into society…free of the insanity that once infected your mind.
“I am not dead….I never was….yes….now I remember…..I survived and….yes I recall the trial and the judge….He wanted me imprisoned forever…but the jury found me to be insane and therefore not responsible……
Yup….they cut me loose and I spent six months in a halfway house…Then with a new job and new apartment I re-entered society….just as ugly to the world as I ever was…stared at, sometimes laughed at and even pushed around in the streets.
I took it….and I took it…..and I took….until I couldn’t take it anymore and I wanted to kill the next person that laughed at me…or called me names….or pushed me around.
And about now you are thinking….oh sure….this is a predictable ending….Fenwal Burshenwak reverts back to his hideous, blood thirsty murdering self….but you would be wrong….and just for thinking that I have decided not to tell you what I did….you don’t deserve to know.
Brahahaha…just kidding….It’s all part of my new Me….A new Me that I can live with and enjoy my ugliness and make it so you good folks out there don’t get murdered for making fun of me….The truth is I made use of my so called ugliness and re-invented myself as a comedian…The Ugly Comedian…
Ok. Here it is. My story…my version…the true version…not the one that the news rags spewed out like so much rainbow coloured vomit. The bullet went in my chest…high and to the right, ricocheted off a rib…or maybe a shoulder bone….then a rib. It got a little mangled and went south scraping past my heart…tearing it to shreds. Yup…I was dead before I keeled over and hit the ground. According to the news hounds and the police investigator it was a righteous kill….kill or be killed….self-defence…my killer was a cop…I was the bad guy.