I approached my personal residence, carrying two brown paper bags from the Barbur Boulevard Fred Meyer’s grocery store. As I always do when returning home I cautiously checked around the entrance for potential intruders or any visual discrepancies. I found nothing of note and entered my residence with my groceries, leaving my door slightly ajar.
I placed my groceries down in the kitchenette, on the dining table. I turned back to the door to close it completely, when the suspect whom I immediately identified as my landlord’s son Jack Locke, appeared in the doorway.
He seemed to be disoriented and his eyes appeared blank. As I approached the entrance door, I asked Jack what he needed. He did not respond, instead he brandished a weapon, which I identified as a standard box cutter with the blade extended approximately two inches from the orange plastic handle.
I lunged forward gripping the door by it’s edge and swinging it closed onto Jack’s left arm, shoulder and part of his chest, I slammed the door into Jack, hard, three times in an attempt to disarm him.
Upon the third slam I heard a crack originating from Jack’s upper arm/shoulder area as well as the clack and clatter of the box cutter on the entry floor ceramic tile.
Jack screamed and lunged forward through the doorway pushing me backwards and off balance into the living area of my apartment, I fell backwards onto my buttocks, I scurried backwards into the hall, scrambled to my feet and took a safe position in the hall to give me time to think about my next action.
I did not have my service revolver, due to my recent suspension.
Jack rounded the corner of the hallway entrance yelling and swinging the box cutter. Being down on my haunches I was able to dive forward and tackle Jack from my lower position.
Jack and I fell backwards into the living room where Jack hit his head on the sideboard behind my couch, injuring his left temple and disorientating him enough to give me the advantage.
I took the opportunity to straddle him and gain control of the box cutter. This was not as simple as I had thought it might be. Jack was very strong and we struggled over the box cutter back and forth each of us attempting to gain control of the box cutter.
During our struggle I asked Jack “Why, did you kill all those people?” he responded out of breath and angry “I need a copy of quicken, I’ve got to move to Texas”
Jack’s response weakened him and gave me enough of an advantage over his strength to turn the box cutter around and press it into his left collar bone.
Jack yelled out weakly and grabbed my neck attempting to pull me down, I was in immediate danger, so I used the box cutter again, pressing it into his chest directly above his heart, as I pressed the box cutter deeper Jack’s grip loosened and then released from my neck.
I believe the box cutter injury to his chest was the direct cause of his death.
I checked Jack for a pulse, found none, then went to the kitchenette and called the police, I sat down at my dining table to await the arrival of the police.