The Justice Game Read Online Free PDF

brunette filled half the screen. Jason guessed she was about forty-five or fifty years old. The woman had a long face with striking brown eyes, a protruding chin, and sharp cheekbones; a few pounds less and she would have looked anorexic.
        “Good evening, Ms. Davids,” Walsh said.
        “Good evening.”
        “What about the argument that the MD-9 is used primarily by criminals and has no law-abiding purpose? Without rehashing the whole debate about whether guns kill or people kill, can you tell us why you manufacture a weapon like this?”
        “Because people buy it.”
        Walsh waited for a more detailed explanation but Davids just stared at the camera. Unblinking. Unapologetic.
        “But that’s the point,” Walsh said, her brow furrowed. “Criminals are buying the gun in disproportionate numbers, often illegally or through straw purchases. Why would legitimate buyers who use guns for self-defense and hunting ever need a weapon like this?”
        “Why do they make cars that can go faster than the speed limit?” Davids asked, her words clipped and uncompromising. “Your questions miss the point. Why isn’t anybody asking about laws that keep honest citizens from having guns at work? If somebody in that studio had a gun, Rachel Crawford and the other victims might be alive today.”
        Walsh made a skeptical face, twisting the corners of her mouth. “Then you feel no responsibility for these deaths?”
        “No, I don’t. The first tragedy in this case is that the only person who had a gun in that studio was a deranged killer. The second tragedy is that networks like yours keep showing the footage over and over to increase ratings.” Davids narrowed her eyes, her contempt for the media slithering through. “And you feel no responsibility for that ?”
        From Jason’s vantage point, it seemed like the question caught Jessica Walsh off guard. She was supposed to be asking the tough questions. Her eyes darted away from the camera for a moment, but she made a nice recovery. “We always warn viewers about graphic footage,” Walsh explained. “But still, it’s our commitment to show newsworthy events even if they might sometimes be disturbing.”
        “You let the viewers choose; we let the buyers choose,” Davids said. “It’s a free country.”
        Walsh responded with a sarcastic little grunt—the sound of disbelief escaping before she could catch herself. “Melissa Davids,” Walsh said, “CEO of MD Firearms. Thanks for joining us.”
        “My pleasure. And Jessica?”
        “Yes.”
        “I want to express my sympathy to the victims’ families.”
        It was, Jason thought, a performance his dad would admire. A city detective in Atlanta, Jason’s dad had seen more than a few senseless homicides. Yet he would probably be the first to defend the rights of gun manufacturers like MD Firearms and gun advocates like Melissa Davids.
        Jason flipped through a few more channels and watched lawyers speculate about who should be blamed. The victims couldn’t sue their own employer, WDXR, because the workers’ comp laws prevented such a suit. A suit against the SWAT team would be nearly impossible because cops had sovereign immunity for judgment calls like this. And it was generally assumed that the killer himself had no assets squirreled away. For lawyers, it was the greatest of all tragedies—a death without someone to sue.
        A ringing phone brought Jason back to more immediate concerns.
        “We need you here in fifteen minutes,” the caller said. “All three panels have a verdict.”
        Jason glanced at his watch; the jurors had taken every minute of their allotted time. “Does juror number five look happy?” Jason asked. He was pretty sure the young lady was on his side.
        “I can’t tell,” the caller said. “They all look mad to me.”
        Jason put on a new layer