The two chatted for a while longer, and Jack stood up to take his leave. Just then, Frank's secretary, Baker, knocked on the door and entered, struggling to hold five or six documents as thick as dictionaries.
"Here are the documents you requested, Chief,"
Jack said, politely taking them and placing them on the table. Baker muttered a thank you, but after setting the documents down, she didn't leave. Instead, she stood by the table and said respectfully, "These are memoranda from the Appropriations Committee, which is part of the Public Safety Committee." "
Politicians talk, but we do. When someone criticizes us for not using old-fashioned police tactics, we might as well follow her advice."
Frank smiled at Jack and gestured to Baker, facing the sofa. "Sit down, Baker. We're busy today."
"Should I inform Ms. Moger?" Jack's mouth twitched, barely holding back. Who says revenge is never too late? Frank couldn't wait even half an hour.
"I'll contact her personally if necessary. Thank you, Jack." Frank picked up his reading glasses from the desk, put them on, and sat down across from his secretary, flipping through a thick memo.
After leaving NYPD headquarters, Jack went straight back to his office and asked someone to help him retrieve information on Dick Reed. He worked late into the night, finally completing a rough profile.
The next morning, the Dodge Hellcat parked on Bowery Street near Chinatown in southern Manhattan. Jack rolled down the window and waved to Danny, who was shivering on the curb.
Not far away, a group of people gathered—reporters and ordinary people. Even the winter wind couldn't dampen their enthusiasm, their faces filled with excitement, as if they were anticipating something.
"Thank God, you saved my life again. My car's air conditioning is broken again." Danny finally calmed down after climbing into the passenger seat and rolling up the window. The warm air conditioning and steaming coffee inside finally brought him back to his senses.
"I finally managed to get that jerk Dick put in jail, but then some legal snafu got him released again. I just can't understand."
Jack could only smile in response to his complaint. "You should thank God it was just contaminated cotton swabs. If the testing equipment had been faulty as you said, more people would have been released."
"So this is still my fault?" Danny was speechless. Was a bad mouth even a sin?
"This is the psychological profile I finished yesterday. Do you want to see it?" Jack pulled out a sheet of manuscript paper. The dense citations on it, like a thesis, made Danny's eyes spin.
"Just state the conclusion," a poor student said, shrugging off, dodging towards the car door.
"Actually, this is also a draft of a thesis for my dear... uh... my professor." Jack almost stumbled. It had been ages since he'd seen Maureen and Zoe. It seemed New York wasn't far from Washington, D.C. He could visit them while they were here.
"The conclusion is, this pervert will be eager to continue committing crimes once he's released. He's almost choking back."
Danny couldn't help but stiffen his neck and squinted. "That's it? I know that conclusion from my ass. You'll get a 'How dare you!' from some little European girl for wasting paper."
"Haha." Jack ignored the poor student and looked out the window. "The prison bus is coming."
Danny followed his gaze to the street. A blue and white bus with iron bars on the windows slowly turned the corner. "Bus bus,"
he muttered, opening the door again and getting out. He downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp and casually tossed the crushed paper cup into the trash can.
Jack followed suit. Four prisoners in Manhattan were set to be released due to insufficient evidence due to cotton swab contamination. Aside from a few tabloid reporters and some of the prisoners' families, most of the people here were here for the serial rapist and murderer Dick Reed.
As always, in this empty hell, serial killers have always had their own fans and admirers, who would set up websites for these people, send letters and gifts to the prison, and gather on the roadside like now to welcome their idols out of prison.
"It's amazing, these sick and twisted people always seem to be attracted to each other,"
Danny muttered a few curse words, then turned to Jack. "Aren't you coming?"
"What for? Go over and say some harsh words? Unless you need me to stand by you so you don't get angry and lose your job, otherwise I'll just observe."
Jack immediately declined. Although the crowd wasn't large—there were only about a dozen fans of the serial killer—they were clearly quite excited, shouting slogans of support.
"I support you, Dick!"
"Those bitches deserved it!"
"This is God's will!"
As the bus doors opened, a handsome young man stepped out like a celebrity, waving to the crowd on the street. The atmosphere reached a crescendo.
The scene reminded Jack of the screaming, mad fans of his past life chasing after celebrities. He felt a strong sense of irritation towards these abstract humanoid creatures, as if he could tie them all to one of Musk's stainless steel fireworks and launch them into the atmosphere.
"Look at these crazy fans. What's wrong with this world?" Danny sighed helplessly as he watched two other, both lookalikes and dressed like typical losers, posing for photos with Dick Reed.
"Aren't you going up to say a word?" Jack leered at him.
"Never mind. I just showered this morning." Danny shook his head, unwilling to be tainted by bad luck. Standing at the curb, he waved. A plainclothes police car drove up, carrying two detectives who looked a few years younger than him, but with the same thinning hair.
"Hey, keep close to that beach kid. Keep an eye on him wherever he goes. Got you?"
"Sure thing." The detective in the passenger seat nodded repeatedly, making a phone gesture to indicate he'd be reporting back. The plainclothes police car then started up and followed the taxi Dick Reed had just taken.
"I'm leaving then. Your dad has another job for me." Jack returned to the car. He'd come just to see Dick Reed's face in person, to make sure he didn't look the same as the photo. Now that Danny had made arrangements, it was time for him to fulfill his bodyguard duties.
"Take me back to the station." Danny cheekily got back into the passenger seat of the Hellcat.
"..." Jack was speechless at this guy. "What about the car you drove?"
"I'll have someone tow it away later. I don't want to freeze to death in the car." Danny rubbed his hands against the air conditioning vent, looking frostbitten.
Jack could only shrug. It was barely below zero degrees, and the humidity in New York in the winter wasn't high enough to cause a magical attack. These New Yorkers were clearly spoiled by their constant indoor heating.
After dropping Danny off at the station, Jack called Hannah in the parking lot to ask when she'd finished her case and would be back to guard Erin for a few days.
In his opinion, it would be better to keep an eye on Dick Reed to prevent this beast from committing more crimes than to protect Irene. The serial killer who made Jack write a paper for him was obviously not a simple person.