How I Mounted Goldie, Saved My Partner Lori, and Sniffed Out The People's Justice

By Jonathon Sullivan

 

 

Q: What were you and your partner doing when you received the shots-fired call, officer?

 

A: Driving. North on Cass, between Mack and Warren. My Partner Lori had my window down. I like that.

 

Q: So you were close to the scene.

 

A: Yes. We got there fast.

 

Q: What happened when you arrived at the address in question?

 

A: My Partner Lori opened my door and I jumped out. I arrested a suspect!

 

Q: Yes, Officer Bull. But I would like you to tell me exactly what happened, in detail, from the time you got out of the car.

 

A: Okay. My skulltop showed me which house, and I ran toward it. A man and three dogs ran out the door. One of them was a bitch with pretty haunches. She was in heat, and I really really really liked the way she smelled. I wanted to run after her, but I knew I should go after the man. So I did. Even though I liked the way she smelled!

 

Q: That was subject Goldie?

 

A: That was Goldie. She smelled good. Will you let me go back to work with My Partner Lori?

 

Q: We'll see, Officer Bull. Please just answer my questions. What happened next?

 

A: I ran after the man! I identified myself as a police officer and ordered him to stop, but he kept running. That's resisting arrest. He was an African-American of medium build in his mid-twenties wearing a windbreaker with a Red Wings logo, black trousers and green tennis shoes. I have his footprints saved in my skulltop's memory. Also his mugshots, finger prints, aromatic signature, DNA profile...

 

Q: I have all the evidence, Bull. Just tell me what happened.

 

A: Okay. I ran after him! He climbed over a fence and ran down an alley. The fence was almost too high for me. But I got over it. I chased him across a field. He was great! A fun chase. He ran into an alley, where I got close enough to use the AminoSoft T-12 apprehension jelly. We call it the goo gun. I like it because it helps me arrest suspects, and I don't have to bite them! But it smells funny, like rotten tires. I shot the man with my goo gun. The jelly stuck to his leg, and it got real foamy, and pretty soon it was all over him, like a big blue sticky tire-smelling turd!

 

Q: When did you start using similes?

 

A: My Partner Lori found software and put it on my skulltop! She says it makes me more entertaining.

 

Q: Disable this unauthorized feature during your statement. Continue, please.

 

A: Suspect Duchamp was covered with goo, and couldn't move. I cranked up my speaker and yelled at him and showed him my teeth, to scare him. We're supposed to do that.

 

I Mirandized him. I asked if he understood his rights and he said he wasn't sure. He was very scared. He kept saying he liked dogs. I demanded identification and he said his name was Tyrone Duchamp. He wouldn't say anything else, except that he wanted Harry. He said it over and over again: "I want Harry." He smelled terrified.

 

My Partner Lori caught up. She said I was a good boy. We dissipated the goo and cuffed the suspect. We found a weapon on him, a 9mm assault pistol modified for full automatic, recently fired. I downloaded the contents of the weapon's security chip, and then Lori and I synced our databases. We took Duchamp back to the scene and put him in our unit.

 

The house was older, and it had a lot of great smells. Dogs lived there. I smelled the bitch with the pretty haunches, and two other dogs, one male and one female. But they were gone. I smelled gunpowder and also cannabis, heroin and bliss, which are illegal substances under Schedule I.

 

Also human blood. Puddles of fresh blood were everywhere, and I had to be careful not to step in them. There were two victims in the kitchen. They both had multiple gunshot wounds, and they both had that great smell things get right after they die. My Partner Lori put their prints on my skulltop. I logged into the central registry and identified them as Harold Duchamp, a bliss dealer with a felony rap sheet, and Detective Sergeant Michael Sams, from Narcotics South. Mr. Duchamp was unarmed. Officer Sams had his issue sidearm. Shell casings were everywhere. My Partner Lori said it looked like they had been killed by our suspect. I sniffed around and found a big stash of bliss and heroin in one of the bedrooms, before CSU even got there!

 

Q: How long were you in the house before other units arrived?

 

A: Eight minutes.

 

Q: Did you or your partner tamper with the crime scene in any way?

 

A: We just took prints from Harold Duchamp and Officer Sams and downloaded the safety chip on Sams' weapon. CSU says I left some hair and saliva at the scene. They always say that.

 

Q: Tell me what happened next.

 

A: Captain Mitchell arrived. I liked him, because he always smelled like hamburgers. He took Lori and I outside. I started barking! I was mad!

 

Q: Why?

 

A: A bunch of guys from Narcotics South were trying to break into our unit! They were shouting at Tyrone and pounding on the window. One of the narcotics guys was trying to jack our unit's code with a palmtop, so he could open the door!  Captain Mitchell told him to back off. I told him, too: "Back off!" He disconnected the palmtop and put it away.

 

My Partner Lori told me to be quiet. She asked what the fuck was going on. Captain Mitchell said that narcotics wanted the collar and the case, because Sams was one of theirs.

 

My Partner Lori said "fuck that!" I said it, too: "Fuck that!" Partly because I was mad. Because Duchamp was our arrest. But mostly because My Partner Lori says "fuck" is a very versatile and satisfying word and I should practice using it.

 

The narcotics guys were yelling, and My Partner Lori started yelling back. One of them called her a stocky bitch.

 

So she hit him. Then everybody was yelling and I was barking. It was exciting!

 

Finally Captain Mitchell got everybody calmed down. He held My Partner Lori by the arm. The guy from narcotics was pinching his nose to stop the bleeding. Captain Mitchell said Duchamp was our collar, and homicide would do the investigation not narcotics, and that was that. He said, "Either way, he's going to get what he deserves."

 

The narcotics guys shouted that cop killers never got what they deserved. The uniforms pushed them back. Captain Mitchell told Lori and I to take our suspect Tyrone Duchamp directly to Central Booking instead of the precinct.

 

Q: Why?

 

A: You know.

 

Q: What, exactly, did he say?

 

A: He said that way narcotics couldn't hassle us or make a scene at the precinct. He said they were very hot about losing one of their own and they might do something reckless. And we could avoid a clusterfuck with the press.

 

Q: And it is your testimony that your recording of the events outside the Duchamp residence, hereunto attached as Appendix 3, is unaltered and complete?

 

A: I can't change my recordings. That would be a felony under the Michigan Criminal Code, Section IV, paragraph

 

Q: Very well. What happened next?

 

A: My Partner Lori and I got into our unit. Lori kept talking about those fucking narcotics assholes. I said fuck everytime she did, to practice, and pretty soon she was laughing. She grabbed my ears and shook them. I like that.

 

Tyrone Duchamp was crying, and he kept saying "Harry! I want Harry!"

 

Lori said, "You shot Harry, Tyrone. Remember?"

 

Tyrone said, "Mr. Sams shot Harry! And Harry shot Mr. Sams! They had a big fight. I was so scared! Harry takes care of me. Did you take him to the hospital? Did you find my dogs?"

 

Lori said, "Your dogs are the least of your worries, Tyrone. We found you with a weapon-—probably the one that killed Detective Sams."

 

I had pictures of the crime scene and Sams' body on my skulltop. I told My Partner Lori there was a 97.2% probability that Tyrone's weapon was the murder weapon.

 

Lori told me I was a good boy. She said, "See, Tryone? Ninety-seven-point-two percent. And when the coroner digs those slugs out of Sams, and when we look at the data on your weapon's security chip, it's going to be 100%, and you'll be a cop killer. You're going to jail for life, Tyrone. Too bad the needle's on hold. Cop killers should go directly to hell."

 

Tyrone kept saying he didn't kill anybody. He said he just took the gun from his brother after Det. Sams and Harry shot each other because he was scared. He said he couldn't understand why they shot each other, because they were friends.

 

Lori said, "You're not very bright are you, Tyrone?"

 

Tyrone said no he wasn't very bright, because he had brain damage from when he was a baby. He started crying about his dogs and his brother Harry. My Partner Lori gave me a funny look and she got really quiet.

 

Then I told her the security chip showed that Tyrone hadn't fired the weapon.

 

She looked over and said, "Well, fuck me." I said it too: "Fuck me."

 

Then the engine died and our car came to a stop. Right in the middle of the street! The back door popped open. The front doors locked and My Partner Lori couldn't open them. The onboard computer said her code was invalid.

 

A black van pulled out of an alley and stopped right in front of us. Six men with goo guns got out and surrounded our unit. They all had street clothes, Kevlar vests and gas masks. They set off a smoke grenade.

 

Lori said: "Fucking narcotics assholes!"

 

Two of the fucking narcotics assholes ran up to the car and pulled Tyrone out of the back seat. One of them said, "Tyrone Duchamp, you're under arrest for the capital offenses of drug trafficking and the murder of Michael Sams, a Detroit Police Officer. You have the right to a trial before The People's Justice. You do not have the right to get off on technicalities. You do not have the right to be coddled by a liberal criminal justice system."

 

Tyrone was really kicking and screaming, and it took three guys to take him away into the smoke. I couldn't stop them, because I couldn't get out. My Partner Lori told me to quit barking. She drew her weapon.

 

A man with a big camera on one side of his face stuck his head in through the back door, on the other side of the barrier. He said congratulations and thanks for all your good work, officers. He said I was a good boy for catching a cop-killer. My Partner Lori had her weapon trained on him, but she didn't shoot. She just stared at him.

 

He said, "Trial's tonight at 8PM! You're going to be stars!" Then he went away. We couldn't see anything for all the smoke. The car wouldn't start, and for awhile I couldn't even access the Net through my skulltop.

 

Q: Your recording of the incident is hereunto attached as Appendix 4. You affirm that it is unaltered and complete?

 

A: Fuck, yes!

 

Q: Very well. What happened then?

 

A: CSU and some units came and took statements and did the scene. Then Lori and I went back to the precinct, since we didn't have anybody to take to Central Booking anymore.

 

Everybody was patting My Partner Lori on the back and shaking my ears and they all said I was a good boy, and how lucky we were that The People's Justice was in town and snatched our perp, because most cops never have the satisfaction of seeing perps get what they deserve. They were talking about how ballsy Terry Stringer was. Usually The People's Justice only abducted and tried criminals who got off on technicalities. This was the first time they'd ever snatched a perp away from the police, before a trial.

 

Q: What was Captain Mitchell's reaction?

 

A: He wasn't so happy, but he wasn't mad, either. He said it wasn't our fault, and we might as well go home and watch the trial after filing our report. He told us to change the code on our unit, since obviously it had been compromised. He said he would find out who had sold us out to The People's Justice, come hell or high water. He said it loud, so everybody in the squad room could hear. Then he pulled a hamburger out of a bag. It smelled good. He gave me a bite. I like that.

 

So after filing our report we went down to sign out and go home.

 

Q: But you did not go home with Officer Hernandez, did you, Bull? Officer Bull? Officer Bull, I direct you to answer the question.

 

A: I have to go.

 

Q: We're not finished, Officer. We're in the middle of a statement.

 

A: No. I have to go.

 

Q: Ah. Very well.

 

(Five-minute recess.)

 

Q: Let's continue, Officer Bull. You did not go home with Officer Hernandez, did you? Did you? Please respond, Officer.

 

A: No.

 

Q: And even though you had discontinued recording, you were wearing your skulltop and your weapons pack when you left Officer Hernandez' supervision, were you not?

 

A: Yes.

 

Q: Do you understand the implications of that action?

 

A: It is a violation of my general orders.

 

Q: Please explain why you violated your general orders.

 

A: When we got into the car, Lori told me to log on and find The People's Justice. It wasn't hard. There were ads posted on all over the Net. I linked to the show at 8:02 PM, and they were already introducing Terry Stringer. He was wearing robes, like a real judge. But he's not a real judge!

 

Q: No, Officer Bull, he is not.

 

A: And The People's Justice is not a real court. They shouldn't get away with that. It's against the law.

 

Q: They will be caught eventually. They are very popular, not only with the public, but also with law enforcement. They move constantly, and there's not enough time to trace them during a single netcast.

 

A: But if nobody watched them...

 

Q: That is not the subject at hand. What happened next?

 

A: The criminal, Terry Stringer, came out and shook hands with the studio audience. He was a caucasian male, approximately 45 years old, slender build, 6'02" tall, with graying brown hair and blue eyes, wearing black robes—

 

Q: I have his description.

 

A: He shook hands with the studio audience and then went to the bench. My Partner Lori said he was a sleazy fuck, but kind of cute.

 

They had already introduced the prosecutor, Jim Cates, and the defense attorney, Wendy Holmes, who were standing on the set. Then two very large men brought out Tyrone. He was wearing bright orange fatigues and shackles. He looked scared.

 

Then they played a video. They showed how Det. Sgt. Sams had discovered that Tyrone and Harold Duchamp had been slowly taking over the bliss trade in downtown Detroit, running a vast criminal organization called DBD-—the Devilish Brothers Duchamp. They showed two men selling drugs to little girls. But those men were not Tryone and Harold Duchamp, only pretending to be. That's called a dramatization.

 

Q: I understand.

 

A: So Det. Sams went undercover to bust them. They showed a man pretending to be Det. Sams meeting the man pretending to be Harold Duchamp. They showed a picture of the real Det. Michael Sams, and a clip from the local news of all the guys from narcotics, saying what a good boy he was. One of them was the guy Lori punched, with a big bandage on his nose. But the dramatization said he'd been wounded during the raid, which isn't true!

 

Anyway, they showed The Devilish Brothers Duchamp trying to doublecross Det. Sams, by drawing their guns on him to steal his flash money. Det. Sams knew they would kill him, so he drew his weapon and killed Harold Duchamp. Then Tyrone murdered Det. Sams and took the drugs and the money.

 

They showed the studio audience, booing and hissing. Terry Stringer used his gavel and everybody got quiet.

 

They showed Tyrone running out of the house. They showed a dog that wasn't me catching him with the goo gun. And then they showed the footage of me and My Partner Lori after they snatched Tyrone. I was barking, but it was a regular bark, not the fuck! fuck! fuck! bark I actually barked when they took Tyrone out of our custody.

 

Q: Does any of this have any bearing on my question?

 

A: Well, yeah. It made me mad all over again, and my Partner Lori and I got into a big fight.

 

Q: Explain.

 

A: I was so mad about The People's Justice taking our collar. I didn't like that. But Lori wasn't so mad anymore. She said it was maybe a good thing, because the collar would still count on our records, and at least Tyrone Duchamp would get what he deserved.

 

But that didn't make sense to me.

 

Q: Why didn't it make sense to you, Bull?

 

A: How could anyone know what Tyrone deserved unless he was afforded due process? That means he gets a lawyer and the people get a lawyer and there's a trial with a real judge and a jury, right?

 

Q: Many citizens feel "The People's Justice" does a better job.

 

A: But it's not the law! I know the law. It's all on my skulltop, the whole law. I serve the law. Besides! Besides! The murder weapon's security chip said Tyrone didn't kill Sams. Harold killed him.

 

My Partner Lori started to get mad. She said it didn't matter, because Tyrone was a drug dealer with his brother, and drug dealing should be a capital offense just like murder and rape and child abuse. They should all fry, she said, just like in the old days. But because of the stupid Supreme Court moratorium the only way they could get what was coming to them was on The People's Justice.

 

And I said that's wrong.

 

And she said, "Why? Because some stupid dog says so?"

 

It made me feel really really really bad, like I was a bad boy, like I was Lori's stupid cat, Sheba, who always shits on the sofa. So I said, "No, you stocky bitch, not because a stupid dog says so. Because the law says so, and we're officers of the law."

 

I felt really really bad.

 

I shouldn't have called her that. Are we almost done? I feel bad again, thinking about it.

 

Q: No, we're not done yet. Go on.

 

A: Lori stopped at a light, and I jumped out the window. She told me to come back, but I didn't. I just ran and ran. I kept thinking she would pull me back with the remote leash, but she didn't.

 

Q: And that's when you returned to the crime scene?

 

A: I didn't mean to. I just ran for a while, south on Cass, and all of a sudden I was just there, in the alley where I got Tyrone with my goo gun. There was still a DPD unit and a CSU truck at Duchamp's house, so I stayed away from there.

 

Pretty soon I could smell the bitch with the pretty haunches. I started looking for her. I found her in a playground about a block away. She smelled really really good. There was another dog there, a mixed breed with no tags. He was trying to mount her, and she was trying to get away from him. I approached, and he snarled at me. I used my capsacin aerosol on him, and he went away.

 

Q: So you discharged your weapons pack while not under direct supervision of your partner?

 

A: It was just a dog. Just pepper spray. Fuck.

 

Q: Go on.

 

A: No. I want My Partner Lori.

 

Q: If you don't cooperate, you may never see Officer Hernandez again. Now please continue.

 

A: I don't like you. You don't even smell right.

 

Q: That will do, Officer.

 

A: I chased after the bitch with the pretty haunches. She was very fast, but after a few blocks she let me catch her. She growled at me and bared her teeth. I like that. I was trying to figure out the best approach for mounting her when I noticed a funny thing. Silver metal between her ears. She had a skullcap!

 

I figured if she had a skullcap she must be K-9. Maybe she'd been working with Sams. So instead of mounting her right away I asked for her identification.

 

Q: Let's be quite clear. You knew she had a skullcap before you ever spoke to her?

 

A: Why would I try to speak to her if she didn't have a skullcap?

 

Q: Point taken. Go on.

 

A: She said her name was Goldie. That was not a complete or valid identification, so I asked if she was with narcotics.

 

She said, "You're the one who chased Tyrone away."

 

I noticed something else funny. I could smell bliss. The smell of it was all around her.

 

"Is Tyrone all right?" she asked.

 

By this time I guessed that she wasn't with DPD narcotics. But why was she wearing a skullcap? It didn't make sense to me. I stopped thinking about how to mount her. Instead I started recording and I began to question her.

 

Q: Did you Mirandize her at any time?

 

A: Fuck no! She's a dog!

 

Q: This dog had a skullcap.

 

A: Oh. Oh.

 

Q: It may present certain legal difficulties. What did subject Goldie tell you?

 

A: I asked her if Tyrone killed Officer Sams, and she said no, she said Harold and Sams killed each other. She came up real close to me and started sniffing me all over. I could tell she liked me. I liked her, too!

 

Q: And your questions?

 

A: Oh yes! She told me that she and two other dogs had received neural upgrades and skullcaps from Det. Sergeant Sams. She told me that Sams and Harold Duchamp used them to collect money and deliver bliss to clients. She said Tyrone cared for the dogs and spent a lot of time playing with them, but it was Harold and Sams who gave them their assignments.

 

Then My Partner Lori arrived. She pulled up to the sidewalk in our unit and asked what was going on. Goldie almost ran away, but I convinced her to stay. My Partner Lori was upset, but she seemed glad to see me. She got out of the unit and kneeled beside me. She said she was sorry. She said I was a very good boy, and a very smart boy. She shook my ears. I like that.

 

Q: And then?

 

A: She looked funny at Goldie and asked me again what was going on. I told her that Goldie smelled really good like she wanted to be mounted, but that she also smelled like bliss. Goldie was very good while Lori searched her. Lori found two pouches in Goldie's side, right in the skin. Goldie said Officer Sams had the vet install the pouches at the same time he'd had her capped. Lori found a six-ounce bag of bliss in Goldie's right pocket, like a hallucinogenic kangaroo kid hiding out in the pouch while his mama makes it with the Bull Kangaroo!

 

Q: Please don't do that.

 

A: I'm sorry. I made another simile.

 

Q: A very messy one, at that. Go on.

 

A: Lori said, "Goldie, are you a bliss courier for Det. Sgt. Sams?" Goldie said she guessed so. Harold gave her the packages, and Sams collected the money and split it with Harold. Goldie was looking at me a lot, and it was hard to be a good boy because of the way she smelled. It made my balls hurt.

 

Lori looked at the bag of purple bliss powder. She said it was a fucking excellent idea, using capped dogs as couriers. A dog with a cap will do whatever you tell it. Lori says that's why people can't wear caps. She once told me she thought criminals should be capped, and politicians, too.

 

Q: Stick to the subject, Bull.

 

A: Lori said nobody would suspect stray dogs running around. Anybody who noticed their caps would assume they were Detroit Police and they wouldn't mess with them.

 

I said if their skulltops accessed the DPD and Interpol databases, they could check the mugs of all clients. So they'd never sell illegal product to an undercover cop.

 

Lori looked at me real funny and said I was very clever. Then she said: "Even if they did get busted, Sams could wipe their skulltops with the remote leash-—even kill them. Erase the evidence."

 

I asked Goldie if Tyrone knew about the bliss.

 

Goldie said Tyrone mostly watched TV and took care of the dogs and played games with them. Tyrone never gave Goldie or the other dogs any bliss to carry, only Harold. And only Sams ever collected the money.

 

"We love Tyrone," she said. "Where is he?"

 

Lori got really upset then, and she said fuck a bunch of times. She pulled her palmtop out and said that Tyrone's trial was going to be over soon. It was 9:05 PM.

 

She said: "We don't even know where they are! They're going to fry that kid! How do we find them?"

 

I said we should find somebody else who knew where they were. Lori said that wasn't any help, because we didn't know anybody who knew where they were.

 

I said Captain Mitchell maybe knew where they were.

 

Lori looked at me, but she didn't say anything for a long time. I thought maybe she was sick. Then she called somebody on her palmtop.

 

I heard Captain Mitchell answer. He said: "Hernandez! Aren't you watching the trial?"

 

Lori said, "Tell us where they took Tyrone Duchamp."

 

I could hear Captain Mitchell shouting. Lori told him to shut up. She said, "You were the only one who knew where we would be. You told us to take him to Central Booking."

 

Captain Mitchell said he had never done any such thing. It made me mad, because that wasn't true.

 

"Officer Bull has a recording," Lori said. "Don't you Bull?"

 

She held down the palmtop for me. I told Captain Mitchell I had a recording.

 

"You sent us right to them," Lori said. "And now that I think about it, you were the only one on the scene who could have changed our unit's access code. How much did they pay you?"

 

Captain Mitchell said: "For Christ's sake, Lori! He deserves to fry! He's a cop-killer and a drug dealer!"

 

Lori said: "By now you know that's not true. You know they've altered the evidence. We have the original downloads from the security chips, we have testimony from one of Det. Sams' canine couriers, and the crime scene data. Frank, I don't know if you did it for the money, or to keep it quiet that Sam was dirty, or what. But Tyrone Duchamp is an adult with the mind of a child. He's no bliss dealer. He just fed the damn dogs! Now tell us where he is so we can go get him before you become a murderer!"

 

Captain Mitchell hung up, and Lori said he was such a bastard. She told me to see if I could get an emergency warrant for his bank records. While I was logging onto the judicial net, Captain Mitchell called back. He wasn't yelling anymore. I could barely hear him. He told Lori he didn't know for sure where Tyrone was. But he'd put a tail on the agent for The People's Justice

 who had first contacted him, just in case. They were operating out of a rented studio near the Omni, down on the Riverfront.

 

He said, "It wasn't the money, Lori. The department's been through so much scandal. When this whole thing broke with Sams, we just thought..."

 

Lori said, "We?"

 

Captain Mitchell hung up again.

 

Q: And did you then proceed to the Omni?

 

A: We took Goldie with us! I was so excited! Lori tried to call for backup, but she couldn't log on to dispatch.

 

Lori said, "This stinks." But we didn't have any time. We ran lights, no siren.

 

We got to Riverfront Drive, took down our lights, and pulled in at the Omni. We left Goldie in the unit and went to the lobby. My Partner Lori started to look for the head of security, but then she said she had a better idea.

 

She found one of the housecleaners, 48-year-old Rubie Washington of Troy. She was an obese African American female in a blue uniform. She smelled like Pine Sol and fried fish. My Partner Lori asked her to show us an empty room on the East side so we could see the building next door. Ms. Washington took us to the second floor, room 248. Lori and I checked out the building. We couldn't see any lights, or roving security. We talked about the best way to approach.

 

That's when Ms. Washington said: "Why don't y'all just take the old service corridor?"

 

She showed us to the lower level, past general maintenance and down to the laundry. She said the place next door used to be part of the Omni. They had both used the same laundry. She showed us to a locked door and opened it.

 

My Partner Lori told her not to say anything. She told me to activate my short-range jamming, in case we ran into security with walkie-talkies or headsets. We went through a long, dark hallway that led to the maintenance deck. There were lots of smells down there-—oil, cleaning products, ozone.

 

I smelled somebody through all the chemicals. Before I could warn My Partner Lori, a man told us to freeze. We turned around, and there was a caucasian male with short brown hair and green eyes, mid-20's, about 200 pounds, wearing a black overcoat and jeans. He was armed with a silenced 45-caliber handgun, aimed at us. Lori put her hands up. She identified herself as a Detroit Police Officer, and the man said no shit. He told her to get on her knees.

 

Lori got down on her knees. She told the man he was under arrest and he laughed.

 

I was upset. I thought the man was going to shoot Lori! I wanted to use my goo gun or the capsacin, but I knew they wouldn't work fast enough. So I engaged the suspect directly.

 

Q: And that's when you were wounded.

 

A: That sleazy fuck shot me! The bullet entered the skin over my right flank, and lodged in the upper rim of my pelvis. It really hurt, but I was so mad! I couldn't jump for his throat, which was a good thing, because I was so mad I wanted to. But that would have violated my general orders against the application of deadly force. So I took him at the knees and down he went. Then I went for the wrist. He tried to shoot me again, but I'm really good at disarmament. My Partner Lori takes me to drills every week. Lori had her gun out and cuffed him. We took his headset and disabled it.

 

Lori asked me what was going on with the netcast. I told her there was no interruption, but we had to move quickly. Tyrone had just been found guilty by the home audience, 78% to 22%. The studio audience was cheering. Terry Stringer pounded his gavel for quiet, and told Tyrone what a bad boy he was. Tyrone was just crying.

 

Lori said, "Where's the show?"

 

And the perp said, "Piss off."

 

So Lori told him I was a mean fucking animal, and I hadn't had my dog chow all day, and I'd just as soon rip out his throat as pee on him. I growled and said that's right and bared my teeth in his face. He still wouldn't talk, so Lori grabbed his hair and tilted his head back and told me to go for it. I took his throat in my mouth and shook.

 

Q: And you admit this action was unnecessary to neutralize the suspect?

 

A: Lori and I were worried about Tyrone! Besides, I didn't hurt the guy. I just scared him. He told us where the show was—-on the third floor, conference 308.

 

That's when Lori noticed the wound in my hip.

 

She said, "You lousy fuck! You shot my dog!"

 

She kicked him in the face and put the muzzle of her weapon in his eye and pulled back the hammer.

 

I told her not to do that. She was breathing hard. She just stood there with her weapon in his eye.

 

I told her the situation was under control and that if she didn't quit menacing the suspect I would arrest her.

 

She still didn't move. I thought she was going to shoot him.

 

I said, "Lori, we've been through this once already tonite. We're here to stop a murder, remember?"

 

She told me to hit the suspect with my goo gun. Then she was hugging me and crying and telling me I was such a good boy, and smart too. I like that. But my leg hurt.

 

We left the perp wrapped in goo, behind one of the big generators.

 

Q: What then?

 

A: We took the stairwell. It was very dark. Lori had to use the universal key to get through the door on the third floor. As soon as we opened it, somebody stuck a gun in Lori's face and told her to freeze, drop her weapon and come out slowly.

 

"The pooch, too," he said, "or I'll drop you with a smile on my face."

 

We went through the door. Our assailant was a short, fat caucasion male in his mid twenties with greasy black hair and blue eyes. He smelled like a bliss addict. He had a headset like the other guy, and he said, "I've got them. Somebody check on Leon, down in maintenance."

 

He smiled at My Parnter Lori and said, "We've been expecting you." He waited for a second, then pulled the hammer on his weapon and pressed the muzzle against Lori's sternum. "Tell the dog to stop jamming me," he said.

 

After I released the jam, he made another report, then motioned with his weapon. We walked down the hall for about three meters. I was very scared.

 

Then I heard a loud bump, and I smelled Goldie's pretty haunches. We turned around, and saw the guy face down on the floor with Goldie on his shoulders. She had the back of his neck in her mouth. Lori told Goldie to get off, and I gooped him.

 

I asked Goldie how she got out of the car.

 

"Men came and opened it," she said. "I ran away, and they shot at me." She was breathing hard. I liked the way she smelled.

 

I said, "How? How could they open the car? We put a new code on it."

 

Lori shook her head and said, "Mitchell set us up. I was afraid of this. What a dick." Then she recovered her sidearm and ran to room 308. Goldie and I followed. 

 

The room was small—-a multimedia control booth overlooking a large conference room. We detained an elderly white female in a blue jumpsuit, working a bank of monitors and internet servers. The lady put up her hands, but we gooped her anyway.

 

Lori told me to hack the feed. It took me a minute to access the interface through my skullcap, and fortunately the session was already open so I didn't need a password. Through a large plastiglass window over the console, I could see Terry Stringer sitting at his big phoney bench. Armed bailiffs were strapping Tyrone into an electric chair, because that was the Featured Punishment for this episode. The phoney prosecutor Jim Cates and Tyrone's defender Wendy Holmes stood behind two tables. I didn't see a studio audience, and once I was on the server I could tell they were computer-generated.

 

Q: Go on.

 

A: They were about to fry Tyrone! Lori told me what to do. It was hard to concentrate, because the room was small and my hip hurt and Goldie was in there and she smelled really really really good.

 

But I did it. I opened a new screen and netcast my evidence file. Thirty-eight million people were watching The People's Justice, and I showed them all the data from the security chip on the murder weapon, and the photos from the crime scene, and Goldie's statement.

 

Q: You gave a very effective presentation, Officer Bull. Everybody was impressed.

 

A: I didn't get to show as much as I wanted before they broke down the door and grabbed us. They took us out into the hallway. Terry Stringer was there, wearing his black robes. He was sweating, and he smelled scared. He kept saying, "Get us offline, goddammit! Get us offline and cut to commercial!"

 

One of the bailiffs pointed his gun at my head and told me to stop netcasting. I was scared, but I didn't stop. Goldie was barking and barking. My leg felt numb. I was bleeding. Lori was upset. She told Goldie to be quiet.

 

"Shoot that fucking dog!" Stringer said, pointing at me.

 

"He's a police officer!" Lori said. "The People's Justice is going to shoot a police officer?"

 

Then I lost the feed, and somebody in the control booth said, "I got it!"

 

On my skullcap, I was still logged on to The People's Justice. They cut to a commercial for FreeFit Condoms, With Extra Ribs For Her Pleasure.

 

Terry Stringer wasn't sweating anymore. Now he was all red, and I could see veins sticking out on his forehead. I felt tired. My heart was beating fast.

 

He said, "Now what? What the hell do we do now?"

 

The guy in the booth said, "We're getting a lot of hits, Your Honor. Most of it's not good. Looks like people are pretty pissed."

 

Terry Stringer stomped his foot. "Great!" he said. "Just great!" He pointed at Lori and said, "You're going to die for this, bitch!"

 

That made me really mad, but I was too tired to do anything except growl.

 

The phoney prosecutor Jim Cates stepped forward. He said, "I told you this was a bad idea, Terry. I told you we were going too far."

 

Terry Stringer said, "This is my show."

 

The phoney defender Wendy Holmes shook her . "Not anymore," she said. "You've disgraced the bench, Your Honor."

 

Mr. Cates called for the bailiffs to restrain Terry Stringer. They looked at each other and didn't move.

 

Mr. Cates said, "Don't you get it, bozos? Where do you think the money's going to come from now? Our sponsors are going to ditch us! If we don't make amends by frying him, it's over. End of the gravy train!"

 

Stringer was yelling, but nobody else said anything. Finally the bailiffs nodded to each other. They came forward and seized Terry Stringer and put cuffs on him. He started screaming. He said fuck a lot. 

 

Mr. Cates said, "Get the camera up here. Bring Duchamp. Get ready to put us back on line. And shut him up!"

 

They gagged Terry Stringer with a dirty rag from the server room. The man with the camera on his face came out of the phoney courtroom with Tyrone. Tyrone looked awful. Mr. Cates told him to stand next to me and Lori.

 

"Let's go," Mr. Cates said.

         

I watched on my skullcap. The People's Justice came back on line, and I could see all of us standing there in the hallway.

 

Mr. Cates looked into the camera and said, "Well, folks, this has been one hell of a trial! Thanks to stunning police work by DPD officer Lori Hernandez and her enhanced K9 partner Bull, we've narrowly avoided a terrible miscarriage of justice."

 

He turned around and said, "Judge Terry Stringer. You are under arrest for felony perjury, subornation of perjury, falsification of evidence, conspiracy to commit murder, and bribery of a police official. You have the right to a trial before The People's Justice. You do not have the right to get off on technicalities. You do not have the right to be coddled by a liberal criminal justice system."

 

Terry Stringer's face was really red now. He tried to yell through the gag, but the bailiffs took him away.

 

Then Mr. Cates said, "Tyrone Duchamp, as a sitting magistrate for The People's Justice, I declare all charges against you dropped. You are free to go."

 

My Partner Lori said, "A ‘sitting magistrate?'"

 

Mr. Cates smiled and said, "The People's Justice must continue. I promise you, and all those watching at home, that nothing like this will ever happen again. Judge Stringer did something terribly wrong. He will be punished."

 

Lori said, "Give me a break."

 

Mr. Cates smiled into the the camera. "What a show! A search for the truth can be full of suprises! Tune in next time, as former Judge Terry Stringer comes face to face with...The People's Justice! It'll be the trial of the decade! Don't miss it!"

 

And then they cut the feed. One of the bailiffs escorted us out of the building. By then I felt really really bad, and My Partner Lori had to pick me up and carry me to the car. She was crying.

 

But they fixed me up pretty good, with a blood tranfusion and medical nanocytes. After the vet said I would be okay, Lori left me there with Goldie. They put Goldie and I in the same pen, and after a little rest I finally got to mount her. I felt a lot better then. We both did.

 

My Partner Lori went to arrest Captain Mitchell. He's in a lot of trouble, isn't he?

 

Q: He is.

 

A: Too bad they still haven't caught those guys from The People's Justice.

 

Q: Officer Bull—

 

A: My Partner Lori says at least we'll get to watch Terry Stringer's trial next week, though.

 

Q: Officer Bull—

 

A: Sometimes I think she just doesn't get it.

 

Q: Officer Bull!

 

A: What?

 

Q: Please be quiet for a moment. Your statement is concluded.

 

A: Can I go back to work with Lori?         

 

Q: I direct you to be silent, Officer.

 

(Two minute pause.)

 

Q: Officer Bull, I have analyzed your statement and all the data regarding this matter which you and the other principles have downloaded into my memory files. My deliberations are complete, and I have reached a disposition of this matter. Are you ready?

 

A: Fuck yes! But I'm scared!

 

Q: Officer Bull, I find that, although both you and your partner Officer Lori Hernandez committed several minor breaches of protocol and procedure, your actions were nonetheless warranted by extraordinary circumstances. Your work has uncovered criminal activity within our department, saved lives, and prevented a gross miscarriage of justice. Further, your skullcap records of the incident, and testimony provided by Captain Mitchell as part of his plea bargain, have provided evidence that may eventually lead to the capture of the individuals involved in the production of The People's Justice.

 

A: I can go back to work with My Partner Lori!

 

Q: You can go back to work with Officer Hernandez, yes.

 

A: And Goldie can stay with us? She's going to have puppies!

 

Q: That is not for me to decide, but the only individual with any sort of claim to the animal is Mr. Duchamp. He has been moved to adult foster care.   

 

A: Excellent!

 

Q: Officer Bull, I will recommend that you receive a citation for conspicuous gallantry for your action in defense of your partner, in which you were wounded.

 

A: I just want to be with My Partner Lori.

 

Q: I understand. But you are to be commended for-—

 

A: Nothing is more important than My Partner Lori. Except the law.

 

Q: I'm curious. Do you really mean that?

 

A: Sure I do. A K-9 loves his partner. A K-9 serves the law.