Jenny Kissed Me
By Ayesha Haqqiqa
The characters in this story are the property of Dick Wolf. No profit was made by using them—only a lot of fun!
“Eight years,” Jack muttered as he looked at the newspaper in front of him.
“Beg pardon?” Anne Noel, Jack’s assistant, asked.
Jack handed her the paper. “Eight years ago, Jenny Brandt killed a seven-year-old boy by beating his head with a rock, leaving him in a pipe with a battery in his mouth. I tried to get her committed then, but the judge ruled against it, and gave the kid back to her mother. Yesterday, the body of the mother, Jocalyn Brandt, and her latest boyfriend, Carl Bishop, were found shot to death in the family apartment.”
“And you think Jenny did this?” Anne asked, wincing at the crime scene photos.
“I know so,” Jack said, picking up his phone. “If you could’ve seen that kid’s face at the end of the hearing—she knew she’d gotten away with murder. I’m just surprised she included her mother in her killing spree—her issues were with boys.”
“It says here that Jenny has not been seen around the apartment house the last two days,” Anne said, reading the article. “The ME says her mother and the boyfriend died less than 24 hours ago. Maybe the kid is innocent.”
“No, just clever.” Jack punched in a number. “Crocker, can you bring up the Jenny Brandt file? It’s in Juveniles, Remanded. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “Wait ‘til you read it. At ten she planned and executed a murder, roping in an accomplice, luring the victime to the scene of his death, and lying so cleverly about it after the fact the police almost charged an innocent man with the crime. Finding a way not to be seen around the apartment would be easy for her.”
Anne shook her head. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”
“I’m also going to request an interview with the family court judge who made the decision to let Jenny go way back when. Jenny was supposed to have gotten therapy, and I want to know if she did.”
“But that’s part of her juvenile record,” Anne objected. “Won’t it be sealed?”
“We’re in a gray area,” Jack said. “Since we dropped murder charges in order to try and get Jenny committed, she was never convicted of a crime. Besides, I’m only doing a preliminary investigation. Whether or not Jenny got psychiatric therapy may help us decide if she is a suspect in this case. Personally, I think Judge Solomon will want to help us sort this out. She’s the one to give us a clue whether Jenny changed—and where the kid might be.”
“I remember the case very well.” Judge Carla Solomon was grayer now, but otherwise hadn’t changed. “And, to answer your question, Mrs. Brandt did keep her monthly appointments with me until six months ago, when Jenny turned 18. She had her daughter in various therapies over the years—behavior modification with Dr. Olivet, then talk therapy when Jenny hit puberty. That was an especially hard time, but Jenny seemed to be doing well. Mrs. Brandt transferred her to St. Agnes, a Catholic girls’ school as soon as she could, and this helped. Jenny formed quite an attachment to one of her teachers, Sister Mary Elizabeth. At least, that’s what Mrs. Brandt told me. Being in an all-female environment seemed to calm Jenny down, and she excelled at sports, especially soccer. The last time Mrs. Brandt was here, she told me Jenny had applied to beauty school and intended to become a hairdresser.”
“So there were no other reported incidents of violence?” Jack asked.
“Once we got her in an all-girl’s school, no,” the judge said. “As I recall, she hit some boys at her old school before her transfer. But of course the whole neighborhooed knew what had happened, and Jenny was considered a parriah.”
Jack nodded. “Did Jenny ever attend any of your monthly meetings?”
“At first,” the judge said. “When she’d won an award at school or wanted to tell me about becoming captain of her soccer team. But as she grew older, she stayed away. I relied on reports from her mother and her therapist.”
Jack sighed. The judge would be no help in finding out Jenny’s current state of mind. “Thank you for your time,” he said. “I think I’ll go visit Sister Mary Elizabeth.”
“Jenny was a troubled girl,” Sister Mary Elizabeth said. “she had to have her own way, or she’d be furious, throwing and breaking things. And she had an almost hypnotic effect on the younger, weaker girls. They would follow her anywhere and do anything she asked.”
“Such as?” Jack raised his brows.
“Oh, Jenny didn’t like the janitor, Mr. Carson,” Sister said. “She and another girl rigged his can of hand cleaner, putting lye in it. Luckily, Mr. Carson saw them do it, and reported it to me. It was then that I decided to harness this girl’s negative qualities and change them into positive ones. I got her into sports, made her soccer team captain. She was a natural leader, and we won city-wide championships in soccer three years running. Those victories, accompanied by all the publicity, seemed to have a calming effect on Jenny. She got on much better with her classmates.”
“And with Mr. Carson?” Jack asked.
“Ask him yourself,” Sister replied.
“With that kid around, I watched my back,” Mr. Carson said as he washed out his mop bucket. “The lye trick was the only one Sister Mary Elizabeth found out about, but there were others.” He looked at Jack. “I won’t get into trouble for this?”
“Just tell me the truth,” Jack said. “I’m not interested in pressing charges for any retaliatory measures you took.”
“Hey, it was the only way to deal with the little creep. I heard about her before she came here—what she done. After the lye incident, I watched really close. Once I caught her slipping razor blades into my sponges. I made her pick up the sponges and give them to me. She picked them up and squeezed them. When she cut herself, she never changed expression. It gave me the creeps. But she left me alone after that. Boy, was I glad when she finally graduated!”
“Did you know any of her friends?” You know, the ones she hung out with?”
“Friends?” Carson snorted. “More like servants. There was one who was especially devoted—Milicent Piper. She was tall and homely , and followed Jenny around like a little puppy. If anyone knows where Jenny is now, it’s Milicent.”
“I haven’t seen Jenny since graduation, Mr. McCoy.” Jack could barely see the tall, gawky girl through the crack in the door. “She talked about going to beauty school. I’m enrolled at NYU.”
Jack put his foot in the door. “But that doesn’t mean you haven’t heard about her—perhaps from other friends?”
Milicent shifted uncomfortably. “I have new friends now. I don’t hang around with the girls from St. Agnes.”
“Not anyone?” Jack asked.
“Not anyone. Please move your foot. I’m shutting the door now.”
Jack shrugged. The girl was lying, he was sure of it. The tremor in her voice told him as much. But he had no way of getting the truth out of her. He’d call Capt. Van Buren. She might have some ideas.
He got on his motorcycle and headed back to Hogan Place. He’d let the police know what he’d found out and let it go at that. After all, he wasn’t supposed to be involved this early in an investigation. But he’d had uneasy feelings about Jenny ever since the end of the trial eight years—
The shot came from behind, hitting Jack in the back. Through the pain, he managed to brake the bike and guide it over to the curb before he collapsed.
“Two years from retirement,” Lennie Briscoe told Ed Green. “Jack was two years from a pension. I teased him when he came to my retirement party. I told him he’d never retire—he’d die prosecuting. I never dreamed my joke would come true.”
Ed put a hond on the shoulder of his old partner. “Lennie, Jack’s not dead yet. The doctors told you surgery would take a long time. They’ll tell us when they know something. Besides, Sgt. Curtis and I are on the case, so you know we’ll catch the perp.”
Lennie nodded morosely at his two former partners, now teamed together. “For Jack, I’d come out of retirement,” he said. “So if either of you needs a hand—“
“We’ll know where to come,”Rey Curtis patted Lennie’s arm. He’d do anything for his former partener, who had stood by him during his wife Deborah’s illness and untimely death. It was Lennie who had encouraged him to return to the 2-7 and to take the sergeant’s exam, which Rey had passed on the first try. Lennie had been as proud as if Rey was his own son. Even Jack McCoy had come by with a congratulatory pizza. McCoy and Rey had clashed at times, but deep down inside Jack was a good person, Rey knew. And he knew he’d do whatever it took to find Jack’s attackers.
The surgeon came out and Anita Van Buren and Nora Lewin went up to him. The two women had sat apart from the others, waiting for news.
“Mr. McCoy is in recovery,” Dr. Franklin said. “The bullet entered the back, was deflected by a rib into lung tissue. We found it, stopped the bleeding, and repaired the lung. It will be a slow recovery, but he will live.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Nora said with tears in her eyes. She and Jack McCoy had been an item for many years. Most people at work knew that Jack lived in a basement apartment in her house, but only Anita and Lennie knew the couple had been wed in a private ceremony out of state several years ago.
Nora turned to Anita. “I don’t need to tell you how important it is for you to find Jenny Brandt,” she said.
“And to protect Jack,” Anita added. “Until we know for sure who did this, and have them behind bars, Jack will have 24 hour police protection.”
Jack awoke in a fog. But it wasn’t so bad—Nora was there. He took her hand and kissed it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say I fell off the wagon,” he said softly. “Everything’s so hazy—“
“You were shot, Jack,” Nora said, fighting back tears. “The doctors got the bullet out, and you’ll be fine.”
Jack looked at the tubes which hooked im to machines that beeped and winked. “Well, if I’m not fine, I guess they’ll know about it right away. Do you know who shot me?”
“No, and that’s why Sgt. Curtis and Det. Green want to see you,” Nora said, holding her husband’s hand. “Are you up for it?”
“I know the drill,” Jack said, closing his eyes. “Bring them in and I’ll tell them what I remember.”
Briefly, he sketched his activities for the detectives.
“So you didn’t see anyone point a gun at you, like from a car?” Ed asked.
Jack wrinkled his brow. “My mind was on other things,” he said. “Traffic was light, it was a one-way street, and I didn’t look at my rear view mirror all that much. I do seem to remember seeing a door opening on a parked car I’d just passed, though. I remember being glad they’d waited before getting out.”
“What color was the car?”
“Dark—not black, though. Maroon. What they call burgundy,” Jack said finally. “And it was a four-door. It was the rear door on the passenger side that was opening.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “That’s all I remember.”
“There’s only about ten thousand burgundy sedans in Manhattan<” Ed said gloomily as they left the ICU.
“But the fact that whoever it was was in the back seat indicates that there was another person involved—the driver,” Rey said.
“May I butt in?” Lennie asked. “I couldn’t help but overhear you as you walked down the hall. Rey, your theory has holes. Maybe the car was unlocked and the shooter—if it was the shooter who opened the back door—just climbed in and waited.”
“If so, the burgundy car would still be at the scene,” Rey objected. “A driver behind Jack saw him swerve over to the curb and crash, and called 911 on his cell phone. An ambulance was completing a run nearby, and responded almost immediately. They sort of blocked traffice until we came. There was no burgundy car on the block. I looked. We interviewed motorists and pedestrians at the scene, and no one noticed anyone with a gun. So the shooter was probably in the back seat of that burgundy car.”
“That means the car left the curb, got into traffic and crossed the intersection before the paramedics arrived,” Lennie said. “Let’s go back and interview the witnesses again. Maybe one of them will remember the car.”
“Good idea, Lennie—but you’re retired, remember?” Ed asked gently.
“Once a cop, always a cop,” Lennie said. “Besides, I’m doing this for Jack.”
“No, I was watching over the fellow who crashed,” Tony Lambert told Lennie. “I’d called 911, and I felt it my responsibility. What’s that? No, I haven’t lived in the City that long. But hey! That old fellow—Titus something—he directed traffic until the cops came. He might have seen something. He told me he’s Neighborhood Watch, you know.”
“Yeah, I remember the car,” Titus Owens told Ed and Rey. “Burgundy Toyota Corolla, early ninties, New York license plate HL 37 something. It nearly ran me down when I went out in the street from my house. I was going to report it and it slipped my mind. Thanks for reminding me, fellers.”
“You’ll find this interesting,” Anita Van Buren told the detectives when they returned to the precinct. “That partial license number you phoned in—well, one of the matches is a 1991 Toyota belonging to Milicent Piper.”
“Jenny’s old classmate,” Ed remarked as he got into the car. “Think she did the shooting?”
“Think you should make sure your guns are loaded?” Lennie cracked from the back seat.
But no one was home at Milicent’s apartment. “Looks like a stake-out,” Ed sighed.
“Yeah, but with three instead of two,” Lennie said as he got out of the car. “Which means I can do a little looking around while you guys wait here.”
“Holler if you get into trouble!” Rey said. “Don’t try to outrun it!”
Nora stayed in the ICU as long as she was allowed, holding Jack’s hand and praying. McCoy was asleep, muttering things about Judge Solomon and family court. Nora knew his mind was still on the case, and she stroked his hair tenderly. Jack sighed and grew quiet.
When Nora was finally shooed out, she realized how exhausted she was. She instructed Marvin, her driver, to take her home. She planned to go over the case during the ride, but she was asleep before they got out of the hospital parking lot. Marvin ahd to waken her when they reached her brownstone.
“I’m thinking Milicent has taken a powder,” Lennie yawned from the back seat of the car. “None of the neighbors have seen her around since this afternoon.”
“Thanks for doing the canvas, Lennie,” Rey said.
“Fat lot of good it did,” Briscoe yawned again. “No one remembers seeing her leave the parking garage in her little burgundy car, either.”
“You know my guess?” Ed said. “She’s with her friend Jenny right now, probably someplace across the river—“
“Isn’t that her car?” Rey sat up in his seat.
“Yeah, the license number checks out,” Ed replied.
Rey got on the radio. “Subject entering parking garage. Keep an eye on her, but don’t spook her! We don’t want her to run.”
The two detectives confronted Milicent as she left the parking garage. She looked at them suspiciously until they showed her their badges.
“Just a few questions, Ms Piper,” Ed Green said.
“Oh, not about Jenny again!” Milicent exclaimed. “Look, I told that other guy I have no clue where she is.”
“Oh yeah?” Rey said. “Well, that ‘other guy’ was shot while riding his motorcycle soon after he left your place. And your car was spotted at the crime scene.”
“That guy was shot? I thought it was just a motorcycle wreck.” Milicent looked from one detective to the other, and hugged her textbooks.
“But that doesn’t explain why you were out on the same street at the same time as Jack McCoy.” Rey looked at her sharply, but she merely shrugged.
“Hey, I was due at the library. Talking to him made me late.”
“If you were going to the library, why were you parked at the curb when McCoy rode by? And who opened your rear passenger door?” Ed asked.
Milicent looked at him and laughed with relief. “Oh, that. When I started out, I heard a funny rattle. It took a while to realize I hadn’t closed the back door completely when I took the groceries out. So I pulled over the first time I saw a space, put the car in park, and leaned across and shut the door. In fact, that’s why I left there so fast. It was just after I’d shut the door that I saw the motorcycle crash. Now I knew I’d watched for oncoming traffic before fiddling with the door, and the motorcycle had passed. But I was afraid the cyclist would accuse me of opening the door and causing his wreck, so I got out of there fast.” She looked at the detectives brightly. “Any other questions? If not, I’ve got work to do.” She marched past them and into her apartment building.
“She almost made it sound plausible,” Ed mused. “But I can’t see her stretching over from the driver’s seat to close the rear passenger door, can you?”
“Not without some rearranging of the driver’s seat,” Rey said. “She’d have to unbuckle, then scoot the seat all the way back. If she did do those things, she wouldn’t have been able to speed away from the scene as quickly as she did.”
Lennie came out from the parking garage. “Scratch any notion of finding anything of interest in the vehicle. It was just washed and the inside was cleaned.”
“So much for spending time at the library,” Rey said.
“Oh, she’ll have a plausible reason for stopping by to wash the car,” Ed replied. “We’d better tell McCoy’s guards to be extra vigilant for a dark-haired girl with a glib tongue.”
The guards were beside the gurney as they wheeled Jack from the ICU to a private room.
“One thing nice about being assaulted,” Jack said. “No annoying roommates.”
“Except for me,” Nora said, taking his hand. “I don’t plan to leave your side.”
Jack looked at her. “Nora, that’s ridiculous. You have the office to run. And what will people think?”
“That I care deeply about you,” Nora replied. “I know we decided to keep our marriage secret until you retired, but now I don’t care. I as up and down all night last night, worried about you. If I’m here, I’ll know you are safe.”
Jack shook his head. “The two cops outside are paid to take a bullet for me if they need to. You are my wife. I don’t want you to be in any danger—physically or politically.”
“And I want you alive!” Nora took his hand. “When—I thought I’d lost you—“
“Shh,” Jack patted her hand. “It didn’t happen, and it won’t. But if you really want me to feel better, go to work. Find Jenny Brandt and whoever killed her mother and Carl Bishop.”
Nora looked at him, confused. “But I thought you believed Jenny was the murderer.”
“I did,” Jack replied. “But I’ve mulled over in my mind what Sister Mary Elizabeth said. It is possible Jenny changed. And she went after boys, not girls. Besides, I’ve remembered another possible suspect, and you need to check him out.”
“Vince Brandt was released three years ago, after completing his sentence for grand theft,” Capt. Van Buren told Nora over the phone. “He went to work for an auto detailer in Queens. As far as we know, he’s still there now.”
“Did he try and get back together with his family after his release?” Nora asked.
“There’s no record of a divorce,” Van Buren replied, “so he might have. If so, we wouldn’t know unless there had been trouble. But there were never any complaints filed by Mrs. Brandt against her husband.”
“There wouldn’t be. He’d want to keep his record clean,” Nora said thoughtfully. “I know it’s a long shot, but—“
“We’re ahead of you on this one. The detectives are on their way to Queens right now.”
“I saw Jenny right after I got out of prison,” Vince Brandt said as he used a vaccuum on a car’s interior. “But her mother wasn’t interested in getting back together, so I beat it.”
“Why not get a divorce?” Ed asked. “She gave you plenty of reasons.”
“Hey, I’m Catholic, I don’t believe in divorce,” Brandt shrugged. “And anyway, by not making a fuss, I was still allowed to see Jenny once in a while.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Rey asked as he made a note.
“At her graduation. I was so proud.” Brandt finished the interior and started polishing the chrome.
“What was her mood?” Ed asked.
“She was elated. She won an award for athletics. All she talked about, though, was going on to school, meeting new people, and starting a career.”
“We heard she was going to beauty school,” Rey said. “What were her relations with her mother like?”
Brandt stopped his work and looked at the detectives. “When I was with my daughter, I avoided my wife. Jenny never talked about her, and neither did I.”
“But you must have—at graduation,” Rey said. “Simple politeness—“
“No law says I have to be polite,” Brandt said, going back to his work.
“Mr. Brandt, where were you the night of your wife’s murder?” Ed asked.
Brandt whirled around. “You think I did that? Why? The only thing we had in common was Jenny, and I got to see her. Now Jenny is missing. Why don’t you find her instead of harrassing me?”
Ed looked at Rey and shrugged. As they left the shop, he said, “Do you buy his story about graduation, Rey?”
“No more than you do,” Rey said. “Let’s find out what really went on.”
“Graduation was quite nice this year,” Sister Mary Elizabeth told the detectives. “There was no unpleasantness on the part of our guests.”
“Not at the ceremony—but what about the reception afterwards?” Rey asked.
“Oh, that. Nothing really. Mr. and Mrs. Brandt had an argument, and punch was spilled. That’s all.”
“Sister called it nothing but an argument?” Mr. Carson said later. “Well, of course. She don’t say nothing bad about nobody. The Brandts, they had a screaming match. He called her a slut and worse, then threw a cup of punch at her. The cup broke and I got to clean it up. The Brandt guy was right beside me, muttering something about his wife being an unfit mother but not being able to do a thing about it. I told him, hey, Jenny would be out on her own now, and away from all that. He said that his wife wasn’t going to let Jenny go, and left.”
“That gibes with what the neighbors said,” Rey said as they left the school. “Jenny was still living at home. Maybe Dad wanted her out of there, and decided to do something about the situation.”
“It would have been a lot easier to find her an apartment,” Ed objected. “Though I guess that would be tough to do on Brandt’s salary. Do you suppose he got so frustrated he killed all three of them? Man, I wish we’d get a break in this case! It would help a lot if we could find Jenny.”
“From the looks of things, McCoy has made more progress than you two,” Lennie said when he went by the 2-7 a few days later. “I was just at the hospital. He’s sitting up in bed all the time now, and he even walked with me down the corridor a ways.”
“At least his mind’s on his recovery and not on the case,” Rey said gloomily.
“Who says it is?” Lennie chuckled. “He had Anne Noel there. Seems she’s been doing some investigating for him. She gave Jack the rundown on St. Agnes’s alums she’d interviewed.”
“And let me guess what she told him—none of the girls knew anything about Jenny Brandt.”
“Other than the fact she was enrolling at beauty school, “ Lennie said.
“That’s another funny thing,” Rey mused. “We checked with all the local beauty schools. Jenny isn’t enrolled in any of them. She hadn’t even been in to apply.”
“Maybe dear old dad decided she was too good for beauty school—or anything else,” Lennie said.
“Well, he has no alibi for the night of the murder,” Ed said. “And his landlord had a 22, but now it’s missing.”
Lennie whistled. “The same caliber as the missing murder weapon. We find that weapon, we may have the break we need. When did the landlord last see the gun?”
“That’s the kicker,” Rey said. “Six months ago. That’s when he bought it from a pawn shop. For protection, he said. When we started coming around, he decided to check to see if it was still in the hall closet where he kept it. That’s when he discovered it was gone.”
“And – let me guess—the whole building had access to the closet,” Lennie sighed. “Any more leads on the Piper girl?”
Rey shrugged. “She goes to campus, attends classes, and socializes, like any normal college girl. No sign of her ever meeting with Jenny Brandt or Vince Brandt. We’d buy her story of the rattling car door if Forensics hadn’t determinged that the bullet came from that area of the street.”
“Then we’re stuck,” Lennie said.
“Until something breaks loose,” Rey agreed gloomily.
One week passed, then two. The only progress was made by Jack McCoy. His recovery astonished the doctors, though Nora put it down to Jack’s will.
“You’ll be released from the hospital this afternoon,” she said. “But remember the doctor said you still need to take it easy! No dashing after clues on the Yamaha!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jack said meekly as he slowly put on his shirt and jeans. “How is the bike, by the way?”
“Fixed, polished, and waiting for you in the shed,” Nora replied.
“Then I’ve got two reasons to be glad I’m going home,” Jack said, giving her a kiss. His face clouded. “I only wish we didn’t need the police escort. Have they found anything new on the case?”
Nora shook her head. “The still haven’t found the murder weapon. Vince Brandt is being watched, and there’s been no trace of Jenny. Lennie seems to think that Brandt did away with his daughter after he killed his wife and the lover.”
Jack shook his head. “No, Brandt made a lot of sacrifices to just so he could see her,” he said. “He didn’t kill her. But where can she be?”
Rey and Ed were not surprised the next week when they had a visitor.
“Nora would have my hide if she knew I was here, but luckily she’s at Hogan Place,” Jack said as he sat down by Rey’s desk. “But I’m going stir crazy just sitting around at home. Can you show me what you have?”
“Sure, Jack.” Rey went to the cabinet and brought back a thick file. “It’s all there—interviews, reports, photos. It is a complete puzzle. The only things we know for sure is that Jocelyn Brandt and her lover were murdered and that Jenny Brandt is missing. We still can’t fit your shooting in anywhere. We know that the murder weapon was a 22—the same caliber that wounded you—but we haven’t found it. We know Vince Brandt had a shouting match with his wife at Jenny’s graduation, and that his landlord is missing a 22. We know that Milicent Piper was driving a burgundy Toyota the day you were shot, and—“
“Who is this?” Jack held up a photo. “There’s a whole group of photos of her in the file.”
“Don’t you know?” Rey looked at Jack, mildly surprised. “That’s Milicent Piper. We took photos of her during our survielance, hoping to catch site of Jenny.”
“You’ve caught sight of Jenny all right.” Jack’s hand holding the photo was shaking. “This girl isn’t the Milicent Piper I interviewed. And those eyes—I’ve never forgotten those eyes, not even after eight years.”
Rey looked at Jack, dumbfounded. “You mean to say--?”
Jack nodded.
“It makes sense now,” Lennie said as he sat alongside Jack in the back of the police car. “Jenny was probably in Piper’s apartment when you called, Jack. She’d already decided to take out her friend and take her place at college. With her skills with makeup and all, she could pass for Ms Piper, especially in a new environment. You were the only hitch. She remembered you, of course, and knew you’d stay on the case and learn about her little game. So she tried to kill you, and darned near succeeded.”
“I just hope my theory is right,” he said. “If so, we should be able to find—ah, there she goes!”
“I see her,” Ed said from the front seat. He spoke into the radio. “Jenny Brandt, alias Milicent Piper, just left the apartment. Keep on her tail, and don’t lose her! Be ready to arrest her when you get the word!” He looked at Rey. “Do we go in now?”
“Wait just a bit,” Sgt. Curtis said. “Let’s make sure she doesn’t double back. Then we hit the landlord with the warrant.”
“You don’t need my key, just knock,” the landlord protested. “I’m sure she’s in there.”
“If she is, she’s not answering the door,” Rey said. “Just open it, will you?”
Shrugging, the landloard unlocked the door. The detectives burst in, and then fanned out to search the apartment. Jack came in, followed by Lennie.
“If I were a scared kid, where would I hide?” Lennie asked. “Probably in a closet, someplace you hope they don’t look.” He went to the hall closet and opened the door. All that greeted him were coats on hangers.
“No, she’d be someplace more private,” Jack said, and walked to the bedroom. When he opened the closet door, Milicent Piper looked up at him with frightened eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. McCoy,” Milicent said for the fifth time as she sat in the interrogation room of the 2-7. “If I had known what Jenny planned I’d never have driven her down the street after you! Honestly, I thought she wanted to talk with you! And now I’ll go to prison.” Tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Jack took her hand. “I think I can make sure you don’t go to jail,” he said. “Just tell us what Jenny made you do—all of it. I have a feeling there’s more to this than just an attempt on my life.”
“Yes, there is,” Milicent sniffed. “It all started out so innocently. She’d talked about going to beauty school and giving me a makeover. Well, she did a makeover on herself. She dyed her hair to match mine, and pulled it back like I do. I was flattered, because on her it looked good. But she didn’t enroll in beauty school. She started hanging around campus, talking with boys, mostly. And then her mom was killed, and I offered to let her stay with me. She moved in, and everything was fine. When you phoned me, Jenny told me to say you hadn’t seen her. She said she was afraid that whoever killed her mom was going to kill her, too. Well, you came, and you know what I said. After you left, I tried to reason with her. I told her you could help her. And suddenly, she said, ‘You’re right. Let’s hop in the car and catch him!’ We speeded past you, and then Jenny said, ‘Park here.” I wasn’t sure what she wanted. And then she was in the back seat, opening the door, with that gun in her hand.” Milicent shivered. “Afterward, she pointed the gun at me and told me to drive away. I’ve been hiding here ever since. Jenny has gone to my classes and pretended she was me so you wouldn’t suspect—she said it was the only way I wouldn’t go to jail –“ Milicent started crying again.
“I think we have enough to pick up Jenny Brandt for attempted murder,” Van Buren said. She turned to Milicent. “What happened to the gun?”
Milicent shook her head. “I don’t know. I think she still has it, though. I’ve been so frightened—“
“You’re all right now,” Van Buren said, putting an arm around her. “My men are closing in on her now.”
Lennie came to the door and beckoned to Jack, who went outside the interrogation room. “The Captain won’t like this, “ he said. “Profaci just called in. Jenny ditched her tails on the way to the library. She must have sensed that something was up.”
“Damn!” Jack breathed. “I was hoping—“
“Well, I’ve got a hunch,” Lennie said. “I’ve told Ed and Rey and they are ready to roll. You coming?”
“Vince left the shop with a cute little number about half an hour ago,” the owner of the detail shop told Rey.
“Any idea where they might have gone?” Rey asked.
The owner thought. “The park. Over by the river. He likes to go there at lunch.”
Rey stopped the car at the park entrance. “We’ll fan out and see if we catch sight of them. Give the high sign if you do.”
Jack walked through the grass down an embankment, keeping Lennie and Ed in his field of vision. When he saw the figures by a large oak, he gave the signal. Quietly, the men converged on the scene, keeping behind shrubs and bushes, getting close enough to hear the words.
“It’s not fun any more, playing this game, Dad,” Jenny was saying. Her hand was in her coat pocket.
“This is no game, Jen, this is serious. The cops have been by. They know about the missing gun.”
Jenny laughed. “And who will be blamed for that?” She moved closer. “You know, I always thought that when you got out of prison, you’d come and rescue me. And when came, what happened? You talked politely to Brandon the Beast, and left! You never tried to get me out of there, even after graduation! I told you I needed a place of my own!”
“I didn’t have the money,” Vince Brandt was pleading. “That’s why I didn’t say anything when you took the gun. I figured you’d pawn it to get money, not to--”
“Do what you never had the guts to do?” Jenny looked at her father with contempt. “Well, I’ve got a new life now, a new identity. I might even get a boyfriend.” Her laugh gave the detectives the chills. Jenny started taking her hand from her pocket. “But first, I think I need to repay you for your lack of consideration, Dad.”
Jack shouted, and Ed leaped. Jenny looked at them, startled. When she saw McCoy, she took aim, but Rey was there, wrestling her to the ground. Jack and Lennie were running toward them when the shot was fired.
“Jenny Brandt was killed as she attempted to shoot Jack McCoy,” Nora read the report. She looked at her husband severly. “Didn’t I tell you not to leave the house?”
“Yes,” Jack said as he lay on the couch in Nora’s office. “But I couldn’t stay away. And if I hadn’t gone to the 2-7, they wouldn’t have known that Jenny Brandt was masquerading as Milicent Piper.”
Nora looked at him and sighed. “You know, you are so eloquent, I believe St. Peter will let you bypass Pergatory and go straight through the Pearly Gates.”
She went over and sat down beside him, stroking his face. “But I hope that doesn’t happen soon.”
Jack looked at her and smiled. “I don’t plan to leave anytime in the near future. I’ve got work to do. Didn’t you say that the parole hearing for Paul Koppel was coming up?”
“Why don’t you just stick to your present cases, and not delve into the past for a while?” Nora said, as she leaned over and kissed him.