Which story is better?
Those days I didn’t hit the door. I always had the shotgun. Once we hit the door, everything happens in slow motion. There was a black chick coming out of the bathroom. She had a towel in front of her, a cup of tea in her hand. She got hit in the stomach with the ram. People are all moving in slow motion.
Jimmy Murphy, the guy who hit the door, jammed her into a closet with the fucking ram in her stomach. The towel wrapped around the ram. Now she’s got no clothes on. The cup is in mid air. There’s two guys coming off the bed with guns.
Jimmy couldn’t get his gun out; he had this 300 pound ram in his hands. He was screaming, “Gun, gun, gun, gun, gun!”
People are screaming and yelling. She’s fucking crying because she’s just lost her whole life here, right. One guy was coming up off the bed with a 44 magnum revolver. I pulled the triggers on the double barrel shotgun, and i had it on safety. I ended up hitting him over the head with the fucking shotgun.
When we do the search, that brings us down.
After it’s all over and everybody’s locked up and you end up in a bar. It’s narcotics, so everybody’s hard drinkers. And sitting around drinking, all of a sudden you remember what you saw. That was the funniest and the scariest at the same time, just hysterical.
Two young Spanish guys were bothering him at the bar, calling him an old man, harassng the shit out of him. He turns around and shoots the two of them. Kills one right there in the bar. The guy drops. The other guy staggers out into the street. He follows that guy, puts one in his head right in the street, walks back in the bar, puts his gun on the bar.
He was drinking a bottle of Heinikein when the cops come. It was a ground ball murder for us.
We get an interpreter and sit down with him.
Here’s a guy who spent twenty five years in a Castro jail in Havana. What are we going to do to this guy?
He told us flat out, “Hey, they bothered me, so I killed them. Yeah, I’ll go to jail here. It’s better than being in a dungeon in Cuba.”