IQALUIT, Nunavut - Before he was led away charged with the murder of an RCMP officer in a remote Arctic community, Ping Kolola wrote a note to his family and unborn son.
"I didn't plan for this, it just happened," said the note, which was scribbled in orange crayon and stuffed into a used envelope with $140 in cash and tucked into a seat cushion in the house where Kolola barricaded himself after the 2007 shooting of Const. Doug Scott.
Read out during Kolola's first-degree murder jury trial in Iqaluit, Nunavut, Thursday, it was only part of emotional evidence that included testimony from a friend and colleague of Scott's who ended up watching over his body as it sat crumpled in a police truck.
"To my brothers and sisters, I hope you can someday forgive me for what I done," said Kolola's note.
"To my yet-to-be-born son, I am very sorry you won't grow up with your father.
"I know my mother is always preaching the word of God, so listen to her when she does that. I want you all to know how deeply sorry I am for what I done."
Scott, 20, was killed on Nov. 5, 2007, in Kimmirut, Nunavut. He had responded on his own to complaints about a drunk driver.
Court has heard that Kolola, 39, was drunk and driving around town with his baby son Adam in his lap after fighting with his common-law wife.
He surrendered to an RCMP emergency response team at about 4 a.m. the next morning after an officer convinced him over the phone from Iqaluit to leave his house, where he had holed up with a high-powered rifle and a friend.
After Kolola was led away, some members of the team remained behind to guard the scene. One of them was Const. James Morrison, who had gotten to know Scott when the two were both in Iqaluit.
"Doug, in my mind, was still a boy," said Morrison, whose testimony was punctuated with silences as he struggled to control his emotions.
"Doug wasn't just a police officer. Doug was close friend."
As Scott's family wept, Morrison testified he grew increasingly upset as he watched over a truck in which his buddy's body sat unattended.
"I was concerned no professional had checked on Doug," he said. "I thought maybe there was a chance he was alive."
A quick glance inside the truck cab convinced him otherwise.
Still, not doing something for his friend bothered Morrison.
"I didn't want to leave Doug alone in the cold and dark. I knew I couldn't (help him), I knew I shouldn't. So I left.
"The line between being alive and dead is a very fine thing."
