James Richard was handcuffed and forced to kneel on the ground. Danny asked impatiently, "Where is Dick Reed?"
"I don't know! I'm going to sue you for abusing violence as a police officer!" Unexpectedly, this guy dared to talk back with his neck stiff.
"Abuse of violence? Do you have any witnesses?" Danny sneered and punched him so hard that he bent his back like a shrimp, and then beat him up again.
However, unexpectedly, Danny was exhausted from beating him, but James Richard was still very tough and said nothing.
Jack originally wanted to protect the frightened girl and leave the room first, but when he noticed the girl's hateful eyes when she looked at the bastard, his heart moved, and he lowered his head and asked, "Do you want to get rid of the nightmare?"
Becky Swatch looked at him puzzledly, then followed his line of sight and his eyes fell on the dagger on the ground.
"He's a Dick Reed admirer, an incompetent waste who wants to be the second Dick Reed and repeat what happened to you on other innocent girls. Just yesterday, a girl in Columbia Park was murdered by him."
Jack's voice was not loud, but everyone in the room could hear it clearly. Danny looked at Jack in shock, and he had already vaguely guessed his intention.
Becky Swatch suddenly broke free from Jack's arms, picked up the dagger on the ground, and pointed it at James Richard who was kneeling on the ground with trembling hands.
"No! No! You can't do this!" James Richard suddenly screamed in panic, and wanted to struggle but was unable to move because his hands were handcuffed behind his back.
"Think about the fear, helplessness, and pain you've experienced. Dick Reed and this loser are no different. They're cowards, losers, shivering trash hiding in corners.
They only dare to bully the weak, venting their perverted desires on innocent women. They're not to be feared. If you muster the courage to face them, you'll discover that."
As Jack bewitched him, the trembling tip of the knife slowly pointed toward James Richard's crotch, and his screams of terror grew shriller.
"Stop! Stop! No, no!" The knife had only penetrated three inches of flesh when James Richard's lower body was already soaked. The blood wasn't much, but the stench was strong.
"He wants revenge and has a new target planned. Help! All I know is this: He said he's no longer interested in this woman and is giving her to me. Please, make her stop, make her stop!"
Jack reached out and grasped Becky Swatch's knife-wielding hand, his eyes gentle as his other hand gently stroked the scar on her cheek. "That's enough. Congratulations on conquering your nightmare."
"Woo, woo, woo!" the girl dropped the knife and hugged Jack, sobbing heartbreakingly.
Twenty minutes later, two patrol officers arrived and took James Richard away. Danny also called his partner, Jackie, to temporarily accompany Becky Swatch. The girl seemed calmer and gave the two men a grateful smile before leaving.
I believe that after undergoing micro plastic surgery to remove the scars on her face, this beautiful woman will completely usher in a new life.
"I thought you'd really let her castrate that bastard," Danny hung up the phone, smiling and high-fiving Jack.
"Too much is as bad as too little. Just enough to help her overcome her fear. If she does, what if she becomes a female serial killer who preys on men?"
He wasn't exaggerating; he seemed to have a strong impression of similar plots in American TV series.
"Is Eileen all right?" Jack, despite hearing Danny's recent phone call with his sister, felt a tinge of unease.
James Richard said Dick Reed wanted revenge, but the judge who sentenced him was a man. Given his character, his most likely target would be Eileen, the prosecutor at the time.
Of course, it could also be Reed's biological sister, who had been rescued earlier. Danny had just sent another team of officers to the hospital to protect her.
"Erin's still working overtime at the office. The old man said he'd pick her up for dinner at 8 o'clock. She was delighted to hear Becky Swatch agreed to testify again and expressed her gratitude. Now the question is how do we catch that bastard?" Danny said, his face scowling again.
"Do you really think Becky Swatch needs to testify again?" Jack muttered pointedly.
Danny paused, glancing around to see if anyone had heard. After a long pause, he muttered, "No matter what, we have to find him first."
"Your ingenuity is in order. I'm going to go to the courthouse." Jack, after thinking it over, still felt uneasy. It was getting late, close to closing time. While the courthouse was patrolled by guards, it wasn't difficult for someone to get into such a large building.
The two parted ways. Danny found his own car and headed back to the police station, while Jack drove his Hellcat to the courthouse. Unexpectedly, he bumped into a nervous Frank at the gate.
"What happened?" he asked, puzzled. Danny had just said Frank would pick up Irene at 8:00, so how could he be here just after 7:00?
"Something's wrong. I can't get through to Irene's phone. I just called my cell phone from her office landline, but there was no sound. It's still connected." Frank flashed his phone and hurried up the stairs.
"Uh," Jack instinctively glanced at the dedicated security guard he'd left with the car. He hesitated, then followed him into the courthouse.
Entering the District Attorney's Office from the side entrance required passing through two hallways. The two guards at the door clearly knew Frank and respectfully let them in.
At first glance, everything seemed normal, but after passing the first hallway, Jack noticed something was amiss. He sniffed, grabbed Frank's hand, and pushed open a door.
Inside the door was the janitor's workroom. A body, its neck slashed open, lay on the floor, blood gushing everywhere. The stench of blood filled the air as the door opened.
"He must be the janitor here. Someone stripped him of his uniform and took his ID," Jack muttered.
Frank nodded grimly and pulled out his sidearm, a vintage Colt "Detective Special" revolver from his waistband.
"Are you serious?" Jack's eyes widened. This thing must be at least thirty or forty years old, right? If it's a first-generation model, it's nearly a hundred years old.
"This is my grandfather's sidearm, a pretty reliable old man," Frank said gravely, holding the little thing up and moving sideways down the hallway.
Jack shook his head speechlessly, pulled out his Glock 22, and headed down the other side, listening carefully.
The two of them arrived at the second hallway. At the end was Erin's office. In front of it was a small shared office area where Erin's secretary's desk was located, often serving as the receptionist.
The entire office was empty. Two high heels and a shoulder bag lay scattered on the floor. Frank's expression grew increasingly grim. Jack hurried over to check the bag. Inside, Irene's phone lay on silent mode.