It was like a flame along Leland’s jaw. Not stopping, he fired back. He had not thought of aiming, but somehow the man reacted as if he had been hit with the blade of a shovel. Before he reached the stairs Leland fired again into the darkness. There was more breaking glass. “Carl! I’m coming through!” No answer. He went into the darkness running, and pitched over the body of the man he had shot. The light from the street poured through the windows of the store. The front door was open.

“Carl!”

The car went into reverse and came into view. The driver shifted quickly into forward gear, and leaning crazily, the car pulled away from the curb. There was a crash of metal and glass. Leland ran down the aisle to the front of the store. The glass in the door was shattered, and on the sidewalk lay Krolevich. Leland reached the sidewalk, still running, and leaped over him. The car had not straightened from the collision with the rear of the police coupé. On one knee Leland aimed for the left rear tire. With the first shot the car bucked back and swerved. It leaped the curb and turned a store front into a shower of glass. Leland was up and running toward it. The car door opened.

“Throw down your gun!”

The driver raised it toward him. He was fully in the light, thirty feet away. Leland stopped, braced himself, offering his profile, and took aim. He fired first, and the man slid out of the car. Leland ran up. The man’s head was on the seat. The bullet had entered under his eye. Leland reached over him and turned the ignition key, then, beginning to tremble at last, ran back to Krolevich.

Krolevich had a bullet in his heart. Bent over him, Leland saw his own blood pour onto the sidewalk. He felt faint now, and he got up and hurried to the radio.

He sat still in the car until help came.

His father had been a policeman seventeen years and had never drawn his gun. Before that night, Krolevich had never drawn his. Most officers went from rookies to retirees without calling on their weapons for more than practice. Without having completed a week Leland had shot and killed two men and had reported the death of a partner. The percentages had had to catch up with some rookie, his father had said sympathetically. He had offered the best help. There was no answer or explanation. He had said that some of the men were upset for Joe because he had lost a partner. Lieutenant Leland knew that his son was too new to the job to have had a full understanding of what that meant. He was right. Joe Leland had not known Carl Krolevich.