Costco shooting inquest should silence police critics for now

The protesters' placards outside the Clark County Regional Justice Center call for the truth to emerge in the police shooting death of Erik Scott.

That's precisely what's been happening, not that critics are likely to accept the ugly facts.

The fractured history of the Clark County coroner's inquest hearing process is replete with some very close calls and a few utter absurdities. But as the televised hearing rolled on last week and witnesses offered their pieces of the puzzle of the events of July 10, it became clear the police shooting of Erik Scott as he left the Summerlin Costco store was neither a very close call nor an example of egregious police conduct.

The ugly facts don't make the 38-year-old medical device salesman's death any less of a tragedy for his family and friends, who seem truly distraught and well-meaning.

Although loaded on near-lethal levels of morphine and Xanax, the muddled and stumbling Scott could boast he was a 1994 graduate of the U.S. Military Academy.

Which, frankly, matters not one bit.

Would it really be less of a tragedy if he had been a cab driver with a G.E.D.?

Former partners and neighbors described Scott as sometimes volatile, unstable and extremely fond of his guns. That's the trouble with painting him as a simple victim. Too many witnesses describe Scott's actions that day and his personal history very differently from the image his family has portrayed.

There weren't two Erik Scotts, just one, the one who wore two pistols into a big box store, stumbled around and acted suspicious enough to compel Costco management to call police and evacuate the store. There was only one Erik Scott who, in his drug-confused state, pulled a .45 in the presence of the store employees and police.

There's wiggle room, of course. Scott family attorney Ross Goodman has wisely raised the specter of suspicion. Goodman has his share of witnesses and the long, tormented history of the coroner's inquest in his favor. Add to that a faulty video surveillance system, and some conflicting testimony from witnesses who didn't define Scott's behavior as menacing, and you have enough questions to fill a deftly worded civil suit.

But that doesn't mean the cops were less than justified. In the real world, brandishing firearms near police in a public place with dozens of civilians within range is a good way to die.

On television, cops shoot weapons out of the hands of criminals and unravel complex conspiracies between deodorant commercials. Real life is different. It's crowded with confusing calls for help, panicky citizens exiting a cavernous store, a drug-addled suspect tugging at his holstered .45 like Dirty Harry with a death wish.

This is hardly a blanket defense of the police. One need look no further than the June 11 shooting death by police of 21-year-old Trevon Cole, a small-time marijuana peddler who was killed during the botched service of a search warrant, for an example of what can generously be described as tragic ineptitude.

Despite substantial evidence to the contrary, the Cole shooting was ruled justified. The Cole case, I predict, will end up costing the department millions.

The circumstantial appropriateness of the shooting won't erase the painful memories for Scott's family and friends, or the officers who will carry it for the rest of their days. Nor does it make the inquest stage any less a flawed theater of justice.

But this time the cops did their difficult duty. It wasn't perfect, and it certainly wasn't pretty. Real life rarely is.

It's time for the critics and conspiracy theorists surrounding the Scott shooting to put away the placards, accept the tragic facts, and go home.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 702-383-0295. He also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/smith.