That happened in the old Jensen's Gun Shop in Tucson in the early 1970s a few hours before I happened to wander in looking for a Remington 870 stock. Three bad guys, one driver and two inside [as I recall] trying to take down the store, in which, by the way all employees were armed. There were three employees behind the counters I believe, plus the manager in a back office. Oh, and several armed customers as well. And most everybody participated. The hard part was matching the multiple wounds to the many, many empty cases; the easy part was the coroner's job: *They're dead, Jim!*
I got there a bit after lunch. The bodies had been carted off and the crime scene tape taken down, but interior bullet damage was still to be seen and there were bloodstains on the floor with obvious body-outline chalk marks around them.
We didn't know as much about bloodborne pathogens then as we do now, but it did lend a certain quaint charm to the place. And the stock I was after was indeed in stock. I paid for it, said my thanks and left. Nice place to be doing business.
