The two men smoked a cigar by the river and parted ways. Jack went to the District Attorney's office to pick up Irene, then accompanied her to pick up their daughter from school. Finally, they returned to the Reagans' villa, also known as Frank's home, where they would stay for the time being.
This continued for three days, and New Yorkers grew increasingly uneasy as the media reported on released criminals committing crimes again.
The NYPD did its best. While it was impossible to monitor all the criminals, several high-profile individuals were under close surveillance.
Danny, like clocking in for work, would visit Dick Reed's mother's house in the morning and evening. Although detectives were stationed around the house 24 hours a day, he remained uneasy.
The psychological profile someone had created not only made him feel sick, but also made him more convinced that the real Mafia would strike again.
It was a weekend afternoon when Jack drove to Frank's villa. He was there to pick up Irene for the District Attorney's Office. Today was the Reagan family's traditional weekend dinner, and he had been invited, but he had been busy renovating his future office.
The two-story building between Kennedy Airport and Long Beach once belonged to a small-time insurance company. It had been abandoned since the FBI busted it in a fraud case.
Jack wasn't sure how the property came into the FBI's hands, but it had clearly been vacant for at least seven or eight years. While the main structure was fine, everything else—windows, partitions, plumbing, and so on—needed repairs or even reinstallation.
Although Dana Moger had given him over six months, considering the efficiency of the American work, Jack couldn't afford to delay. He urged the logistics department to quickly find a construction company and begin drawing up the blueprints.
After working for most of the day, he finally finalized the plan and hurried to Frank's house. Upon entering, he noticed something was off about the atmosphere.
After dinner, Linda headed out with Henry and the children. James Reagan, eager to meet his girlfriend, briefly exchanged glances with Jack before leaving. Entering the kitchen, the remaining Reagans, heads drooping, listlessly cleaned up the scraps.
"What happened?" Jack, now familiar with the family, had no reservations and asked bluntly.
"Obviously, I'm not doing my job as Chief," Frank said self-deprecatingly.
"Dad," Erin said, hugging his arm coquettishly, while Danny explained.
It was all about the aftermath of the DNA evidence incident. With everyone in the family either being a police officer or a prosecutor, the week had been incredibly tumultuous. Even James Reagan, the youngest son, a patrol officer, had been exhausted by the sudden surge in 911 calls.
This had led to a somewhat quiet atmosphere during the family meal, only to be disturbed by the childish chatter of Danny's two sons and Erin's daughter.
Then James Reagan began complaining about the irritation of having to monitor a group of criminals, known to be guilty but released into society due to procedural errors, and questioned when it would end. Then Irene and Danny engaged in their usual bickering, and finally, Frank, already annoyed, lost his temper.
Jack shook his head speechlessly. This was just normal for a loving family, their way of communicating was so unique. "I thought you were going to share some good news. Didn't Irene just take down one of those bastards?"
Jack's words immediately piqued Danny's interest. "What did my dear sister do?"
Frank's expression brightened slightly, and he turned to look at his daughter. "Is it that copper smelter? Have you found new evidence?"
"I've ordered him to be civilly detained under the Mental Hygiene Act and other relevant provisions," Irene rambled on, and everyone, including Frank, frowned.
"Speak English, please." Danny's brows knitted together, speaking for everyone in the room.
"I found two psychiatrists who proved he was ill, and then sent him to a mental hospital." Irene smiled triumphantly.
Danny's mouth opened wide in a funny way. "Who the hell are you? Where did you hide my sister who respects human rights and opposes the abuse of power?"
Frank, as always, favored his daughter. "Well done, dear. You're becoming more and more flexible."
Danny was about to continue arguing with Irene when the ringing of his cell phone interrupted him. "Yeah, what's wrong? Damn it, I'll be there right away."
"What happened?" Frank asked with concern as he picked up his coat and was about to go out.
"A woman was found in the public restroom of Columbia Park with scratches on her face. The method was similar to Dick Reed's." Danny said, looking at Jack, obviously hoping he would go to the scene with him.
Frank's face darkened again. "I thought your guys had him under guard. Jack, go check on him too. I'll take Irene to the office later. Oh, and remember to come to my office tomorrow morning with Ms. Moger. Some things are about to come to a conclusion."
By the time the two men arrived at the park, the area had been cordoned off and an ambulance had arrived. The female victim had been loaded onto a stretcher, fortunately, she was not in danger of death.
"The attack method is consistent, and the binding method is similar. Jack, what do you think?" Danny asked the officer who had just responded to the call.
Jack sighed. "It's clear Dick Reed has a copycat. While the scratches are similar in shape, they're too shallow and lacking in decisiveness. It's obvious it was done by a novice. Most importantly, the victim wasn't sexually assaulted."
Danny nodded, agreeing. "I just called, and the detective in charge of the surveillance said that damn Fuck hasn't left the house since last night and has been staying at his mother's house."
"The media is going to have another blast! We need to find a way to verify the identities of those fans who met Dick Reed at the station that day."
Jack was starting to feel a headache. He didn't seem to see any cameras at the station that day. It seemed like he'd have to deal with the reporters; they probably took some photos.
Suddenly, as if with a sudden realization, Danny gave him a mysterious smile. "By the way, when he got out of jail that day, he was empty-handed, right? No backpack or suitcase, right?"
"Huh? That's right," Jack said, unsure of what he was asking.
"So where do you think all his fan mail is now?" Danny chuckled.
"In prison, of course. Wow, it seems more than one person in the Reagan family has had their brains opened up." Jack couldn't help but jokingly said.