The Kill Room

and weapons systems in the country.”
    “Well, thanks to Wikipedia, why deny it?”
    Sachs settled back into the comfortable chair, also leather, beige. She glanced at the pictures on the wall, some men at a rifle range, probably around the time of the First World War.
    He told her, “We were founded by my great-granddad. Quite an amazing man. I say that like I knew him. But he died before I was born. He invented the recoil system of automatic weapons loading. Of course, there were a half dozen other inventors who did the same and he didn’t get to the patent office first. But he made the best, the most efficient models.”
    Sachs hadn’t known about Walker Senior’s contribution but was impressed. There were several ways to get a weapon to fire repeatedly but the recoil system had won out as the most popular. A talented shooter can get off a bullet every few seconds with a bolt-action rifle. A modern automatic weapon can spit nine hundred rounds a minute, some esoteric types even more.
    “You’re familiar with firearms?” he asked.
    “I shoot as a hobby.”
    He eyed her carefully. “How do you feel about the Second Amendment?” A provocative question wearing a gown of mere curiosity.
    She didn’t hesitate. “Open to interpretation—the militia versus personal rights.”
    The brief Second Amendment of the Constitution guaranteed the right of militias to keep and bear arms. It didn’t specifically say that all citizens had that right.
    Sachs continued, “I’ve read George Mason’s notes, and personally I think his intent was that he was referring exclusively to militias.” She held up a hand as Walker was about to interrupt. “But then he added, ‘Who are the militia? They consist now of the whole people, except a few public officers.’ That means the right applies to everybody—back then every citizen was potentially militia.”
    “I’m with you!” Walker beamed. “That’s nearly a direct quote, by the way. So, don’t trammel our rights.” He nodded.
    “Not quite so fast,” Sachs added coyly. “It’s not the end of the argument.”
    “No?”
    “The Constitution gives us a lot of rights but it also lets Congress regulate us in a thousand different ways. You need a license to drive a car or fly a plane or sell liquor. You can’t vote until you’re eighteen. Why shouldn’t you have a license to own or shoot a gun? I have no problem with that. And it doesn’t conflict with the Second Amendment at all.”
    Walker responded happily, enjoying their argument, “Ah, but of course if we get licenses, then Washington knows where the guns are and they’ll come in the middle of the night and take them away. Don’t we need our weapons to stop them from doing that?”
    Sachs riposted, “Washington has nukes. If they want our guns they’ll take our guns.”
    Walker nodded. “True, there is that. Now, we’ve been digressing. How can I help you?”
    “We recovered a bullet at a crime scene.”
    “One of ours, I assume.”
    “You’re the only company making a four twenty spitzer boattail, aren’t you?”
    “Oh, our new sniper round. And a very fine cartridge it is. Better than the four sixteen, if you ask me. Fast. Oh, fast as a demon.” Then he frowned in apparent confusion. “And the round was involved in a crime?”
    “That’s right.”
    “We don’t sell to the public. Only government, the army and police SWAT teams. I don’t know how a criminal could have gotten his hands on one—unless he, or she, fell into those categories. Where exactly was the scene?”
    “I can’t say at this point.”
    “I see. And what do you want to know?”
    “Just some information. We’re trying to find the rifle this slug was fired from but not having any luck. We’re assuming they’re custom-made.”
    “That’s right. The loads are too big to fire in retooled commercial rifles. Most of the shooters find somebody to make their weapons for them. A few do it themselves.”
    “Do you know anyone who does that work?”
    He smiled coyly. “I can’t say at this point.”
    She laughed. “And that goes for information about customers you’ve sold these bullets to?”
    Walker grew serious now. “If somebody had broken into one of our own warehouses—” A nod out the window toward nearby buildings. “—and the rounds were used in a crime, then I’d be happy to help you out. But I can’t give you customer information. We have gag clauses in all our contracts, and in most cases