Seattle police in 2006 confiscated rifle held by slain student, then returned it to his father

The rifle held by a University of Washington senior when he was fatally shot by Seattle police Thursday is the same weapon taken from him by officers in late 2006, according to Seattle police Chief Gil Kerlikowske.

On Friday, in the wake of the New Year's Day shooting of Miles Allen Murphy, police defended their actions, and witnesses described what they heard and saw before the 22-year-old man lost his life.

At a news conference, Kerlikowske said the Mauser Kar 98K rifle that Murphy "pointed at officers" had been confiscated from him in November 2006 "for safekeeping."

Neither police nor Murphy's parents would provide details about what prompted police to seize the weapon in 2006.

Police said, however, that Murphy's father made repeated requests for return of the rifle and, ultimately, they gave it to him less than three months later.

Michael Murphy, of Maple Valley, said Friday that he'd given the rifle back to his son for military "re-enactments" because it was his son's property and his son was an adult.

Murphy did not specify when he returned the weapon to his son. He said the earlier incident had no bearing on his son's death.

It "doesn't change what happened. ... It is senseless and tragic, and we're dealing with what happened here," he said.

Kerlikowske also characterized the shooting as a "tragedy," but said he stands firmly behind his officers' actions.

The police chief said decades of research show that officers facing firearms cannot safely deploy nonlethal tactics, such as firing Tasers.

"There isn't another option available ... when you're facing a firearm," Kerlikowske said. "We don't face lethal weaponry with nonlethal means."

Report of shots fired in alley

According to Seattle police, the UW student was killed around 2 a.m. on New Year's Day after officers responded to a call about shots being fired by a group of males in an alley west of the 5200 block of 17th Avenue Northeast.

Police learned from witnesses that one of the men lived in a basement apartment of a multifamily boardinghouse. Officers staged themselves at the top of a narrow staircase leading to the basement entrance.

As they did so, police said, Miles Murphy emerged from the basement wearing a World War II-era German military uniform and carrying the Mauser Kar rifle with affixed bayonet in both hands.

The officers identified themselves as Seattle police and ordered Murphy to drop the weapon, police said.

Murphy pointed the weapon at the officers, Kerlikowske said, then lowered it, then pointed it at them again "while taking a step forward."

The officers said they had direct eye contact with Murphy during this exchange and that Murphy did not utter a word, the police chief said.

Two of the officers -- 10-year-veteran Kirk Waldorf and 7-year-veteran Adam Elias -- fired a total of seven rounds at Murphy.

The young man -- well-known on campus as a smart, eccentric history buff who loved to participate in WWII re-enactments and who would even show up in class dressed in a historic uniform -- died later at Harborview Medical Center.

The cause and manner of his death were not released by the King County Medical Examiner's Office on Friday.

Waldorf and Elias, neither of whom has been involved previously in an on-the-job shooting, have been placed on routine administrative leave pending an investigation.

Kerlikowske said he expects an inquest to be called into Murphy's death.

The two men with Murphy when he was firing the rifle told officers the three of them had been drinking earlier in the evening, police said.

Police said they found alcohol, live ammunition and World War II memorabilia in Murphy's home.

Daniel Ray, a resident of the complex, said he had talked to the three men about half an hour before Murphy was shot.

"They were totally lucid and cooperative, not belligerent and not swaying," Ray said.

Ray said he, his wife and his brother had returned home at about 1:30 a.m. Thursday when they saw Murphy and two other men shooting a rifle into the air in the parking lot.

Concerned, Ray and his brother approached.

Ray said Murphy and his friends were "sort of embarrassed -- like kids," when Ray pointed out that their actions could be dangerous. One of them told Ray, "It's not a real gun. Well, actually, it's real, but we're shooting blanks, and we only have two left."

Another neighbor then started yelling at them to stop, Ray said.

"They shuffled away into the alley," Ray said. "Then [Murphy] dropped to one knee and fired the last two shots." Ray said he believed Murphy "was kind of re-enacting a New Year's celebration, when it was very common to shoot rifles into the air."

Murphy and his friends then walked down to the basement, and Ray unloaded his car and went inside.

When he last saw Murphy, Ray said, the young man was holding the gun "safely, with one hand on the barrel and one hand on the stock, slightly pointed up."

Ray was at his computer in his hallway, directly above the basement stairwell, when he heard officers identify themselves and order Murphy to drop the weapon.

He then heard shots.

"It seemed to happen super, super fast," Ray said.

"I don't know if he was stunned, and not used to the police yelling at him or what, but he might have just froze," Ray said.

Ray said his neighbor was basically a "good kid," quiet and shy, who seemed to wear his uniforms and costumes as a sort of "fashion statement."

According to a friend, Murphy studied German and Scandinavian culture, could play piano, violin, banjo and guitar, and had aimed to be a professor of German literature.

Despite Murphy's fascination with World War II, Spencer Bray said, his friend never espoused Third Reich ideologies.

Ray said he heard later from police that they thought Murphy might have hostages.

"They thought they were going into a very difficult, dangerous situation," Ray said. "He wasn't aggressive. He was a good guy, but of course there was no way for the police to know that then."

Christine Clarridge: 206-464-8983 or cclarridge@seattletimes.com.