"Mr. Chief," Erin said with a hint of irritation, perhaps because Frank had just expressed his confidence in her and then dropped this hint to Jack, which made her feel a little embarrassed.
"The District Attorney from Kings County has arrived, sir," Secretary Baker said, knocking gently on the door.
"Go ahead and receive him, Baker," Frank said as he stood up from his desk. Jack quickly collected the documents and returned them to Erin, then stood up to leave.
This cotton swab contamination incident implicated not only the CSI New York lab, but also police labs in other states and regions. Similarly, the Manhattan District Attorney's Office wasn't the only one to deal with; Frank also had to receive prosecutors from other regions who came to report on the situation.
The Commissioner walked over to his daughter and put his arms around her. "You know what? Honey, I still remember that bastard Reed laughing his whole life in court, and I'll never forget him lashing out at you.
No one should treat a Reagan daughter like that. And by the way, I'm glad you finally got over your ex-husband and changed your last name back."
"I won't let him get away with this," Erin bit her lip, hugged her father and acted coquettishly for a moment before letting go. She glanced at Jack vaguely, looking a little embarrassed.
Jack almost whistled to show he hadn't seen anything, but Frank clearly had something else to tell him, so he could only lower his head and pretend to sort his gun case behind the two of them.
Frank glanced at the time on his wrist, then turned to Jack and said, "There's still an hour until the press conference. Before then, you can go to the shooting range downstairs at the police station and try this gun out.
Also, remember to ask Baker for a business card and contact him directly. They'll ship the remaining guns and accessories to your location."
"Thank you very much, Chief Reagan," Jack said with heartfelt gratitude. This was a good item, worth $1,000, and his small operations team had limited funds,so every penny saved was a penny earned. After arriving at the underground shooting range beneath NYPD headquarters, Jack, wearing earmuffs and test-firing several magazines, was very pleased with the pistol. While slightly heavier than a Glock 22, it was significantly lighter than the FK7.5 he'd always used as a backup.
Furthermore, the recoil was much softer than those larger-caliber pistols, making it easy for even female agents to use it. Most importantly, the magazine capacity was the same as the Glock 22, at 15 rounds, which didn't affect the "multi-hole" man's obsession with emptying the magazine.
Seeing that the time was almost up, Jack satisfiedly returned the gun to its case and left the NYPD. He arrived at Police Plaza across the street. The place was already packed, with reporters and curious observers surrounding the podium on the steps.
The mayor, speaking, was a middle-aged man with white hair, appearing a few years younger than Frank. As Dana Moger had said, his remarks clearly showed that he stood with the NYPD during this crisis.
He seemed to have a history of criticism of the NYPD, especially Frank, apparently because his previous Police Commissioner, who had been appointed, resigned in anger because he was unable to control his subordinates.
Unexpectedly, in his previous speech, he had pledged to work with the NYPD to address the current problems head-on and work to mitigate the resulting negative impact.
Perhaps this was related to his re-election bid, as Jack was pondering this, when a reporter asked a pointed question: what exactly caused the problems with the DNA test?
The mayor, seemingly prepared, immediately posed the question to the chairwoman of the New York City Council's Public Safety Committee, an African-American city council member.
Then Jack understood why the mayor had sided with the NYPD this time. The woman, known as Ms. Collins, took the stage and launched into a speech that directly targeted the mayor and the NYPD.
"In short, over the past decade, the number of crimes in this city based solely on DNA evidence has tripled, costing the city vast sums of money, only to face disastrous consequences today.
The primary problem is that our police force has over-reliant on DNA evidence, draining the city's coffers. They've completely abandoned traditional methods of investigating cases, such as collecting hair, fibers, and, uh, fingerprints.
That's work that should be handled by the department's own evidence team. What do you think, Commissioner Reagan?"
Jack, listening to this chaotic accusation, could only shake his head. Mike Taylor had hit the nail on the head; politicians wouldn't miss an opportunity like this.
The New York City Council's Public Safety Committee is one of the NYPD's financial supervisors, responsible for reviewing city security expenditures and special grants.
He quietly pulled out his phone and Googled the councilwoman's background, uncovering some interesting facts. This woman was clearly ambitious, not only serving on several so-called committees but also boasting a reportedly substantial campaign fund, and currently running for mayor.
Frank had clearly not expected to be singled out publicly. For a moment, a hint of surprise crossed his face. Clearly, he hadn't been tipped off, let alone being publicly challenged by a councilwoman. Even the reporters in the audience exchanged bewilderment, their faces lacking any hint of surprise at having caught a major story. They could understand if the councilwoman had targeted the mayor directly, but what was the point of attacking Frank Reagan and the NYPD he led?
If the public couldn't understand what was going on, how could the media understand what was going on? Technically, the NYPD and its affiliated CSI lab were also victims of this incident.
And now that a bunch of criminals are about to be released back into society, everyone expects the police to work hard and quickly find evidence to send these bastards back to prison. At the very least, they should increase patrols near their homes.
However, Frank, who was singled out, clearly had no intention of correcting or refuting Ms. Collins's flawed accusations.
"I don't want to shirk my responsibilities as Police Commissioner, Madam." After saying this, Frank's face twitched slightly, then he forced a smile and turned to the black woman with a slight nod.
"But rest assured, this won't happen again. We will be dispatching our own NYPD inspection team to conduct irregular inspections of police equipment and supplies suppliers that may have problems."
But the problem remains. The most dangerous villain will soon be roaming New York City again," Frank's secret lover, a familiar face among the reporters, boomed, holding a microphone with the news station's logo.
"I know who you're referring to. I still remember those days of panic, Miss Davidson." Seeing his tacitly coordinated supporting role arrive at the right moment, Frank's smile grew more natural.
"I want to use the media to convey our commitment to the public: the NYPD will spare no effort to ensure everyone's safety."
Half an hour later, still in Frank's office, the two men, one standing and one sitting, lit up their cigars again.
After a long pause, Jack, leaning back on the sofa, sighed deeply. "You should know, Frank, that even if the FBI takes out the most dangerous villain, without a very reasonable reason or opportunity, at this critical moment, it will still cause an uproar, right?"
Frank took a puff of his cigar, slowly exhaling the smoke after a long moment, a sly smile that didn't quite match his age appeared on his face.
"I'm afraid you've misunderstood some of my ideas, Jack. The reason I called you and Irene together today is because I hope you can focus a little on my daughter in the future."
"Huh?" This time it was Jack's turn to be stunned. The age difference was a bit too big, not quite appropriate, right?
Quickly eliminating this unlikely idea from his head, Jack thought three more times before tentatively asking, "You mean to say that you hope I will protect your daughter?"
Frank's eyes instantly became sharp, "Of course, what do you think I mean?"
"Uh," Jack did not dare to show the slightest bit of guilt. He immediately puffed out his chest and said righteously, "Of course no problem."
Then he immediately changed the subject, "But may I know why?"
Perhaps someone's acting skills were too superb to reveal any flaws, or perhaps Frank was too lazy to delve into it. He sat down on the sofa opposite Jack, flicked the ash from his cigarette, and then spoke in a serious tone.
"As I mentioned before, I once sat in on the trial where Irene sued Dick Reed. The look in that beast's eyes disgusted me, both from the perspective of a police officer with over 30 years of experience and as a father. Do you understand what I mean?"
"I understand." Jack nodded. Frank suspected that the pervert might attack his daughter after his release, so he hoped he could protect Irene.