OFFICE OF EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT DISTRICT ATTORNEY JACK McCOY
Tuesday, 8:53am
Jack had been pacing in his office for the past twenty minutes. His rage at being bullied by people he couldn’t even look in the face had kept him up most of the night and now was eating away at him when he was supposed to be moving on with life. He stops in front of his desk and eyes the metal trash basket. He proceeds to kick the Hell out of it. It is about this time that Jamie pokes her head in.
“Oh, this is gonna be another great day at the office...,” she thinks as she watches Jack, who is now beginning to stomp on the over-turned basket.
Jack senses that he is being watched and looks over his shoulder, “Hello, Jamie- how are you doing this fine day?”
“Better than you are, I think.”
“Whatever do you mean? Things are going great for me today. I’m going to start singing here in a minute,” he is starting to jump on the basket.
“I heard about the Andrews case, Jack.”
“You did, did you?”
“Yes, I did- how can they do that?”
“ Money doesn’t talk in this town- it frickn’ screams.”
“So they bought their way out of an investigation that might have told us why Laura and so many others died just to keep the world from seeing what terrible parents they are.”
“Yeah, that’s about the sum of it. But I think they had help... someone else who has benefitted from Laura not being able to tell us how she became the way she did.”
“Jack, you’re starting to sound like Agent Mulder and his conspiracy theories...”
“Well, in this case it seems that a healthy dose of paranoia is the secret to a long life. Laura Andrews thought that no one would care enough about her to hurt her and look where that got her.”
“Jack, Laura was a hooker. It was only a matter of time-”
“Jamie, I know what I saw that night. She wasn’t herself... Something or someone was possessing her- forcing her to attack us. That wasn’t her I hit.”
“Jack.. It was dark and you weren’t trying to identify the attacker- you concentrating on saving Van Buren.”
“It wasn’t Laura.”
“How do you know that?”
“I... I just do.”
“Jack, you can’t always trust your senses. You were reacting, not observing.”
“If I can’t trust my own eyes, Jamie, what can I trust?”
“Well, personally, I think that the only thing you can trust is what you believe to be true. That’s all any of us can really do.”
“What if I believe that it wasn’t Laura. What if I believe that this warrants further investigation? ”
“Believe what you want to but how do you prove it?”
Jack gives Jamie a defeated look and flops into his chair, “I can’t.”
“And therein lies your problem.”
Jack lapses into silence. He couldn’t think of anything that would make what he was saying sound credible and Jamie was giving him a ‘I think you’re crazy but I won’t come out and tell you that because I feel sorry for you.’ look.
A thought occurs to him, “What about Van Buren?”
“Maybe, but Jack she’s already given a statement and anything that she does remember is questionable because she had her head bounced on the sidewalk a few times.”
“For the sake of my own peace of mind I have to know what she saw.”
Before Jamie can object, Jack pushes past her and out the door. Cut off in mid-protest she stands for a moment with her mouth. Finally, she heads out after him, “I’m starting to appreciate what Agent Scully has to put up with everyday.”
Manhattan General Hospital
Room 386
Tuesday, 10:24am
Van Buren is sitting up in her bed, reading the “The New York Times.” Flowers and cards are all over her room. A picture of her children and husband sits on the table next to her bed. She is in a room all be herself and that is fine by her. Rarely does she get any time alone but this wasn’t at all what she had in mind.
The door creaks, causing her to look up from the paper. In walks Ross and McCoy.
“Hey Lieutenant!” chirps Ross.
“Counselors,” greets Van Buren with a smile.
Jack stands behind Jamie, unusually quiet- Van Buren is suspicious of this.
“How’s my knight in shining armor doing today?”
Jack lifts his head a fraction of an inch to acknowledge Van Buren’s attempt to get him talking.
“What’s with him?”
“Jamie, can I have a moment with the Lieutenant?”
Jamie nervously backs out of the room all the while shooting Van Buren her, ‘Please don’t kill him.’ look.
When they are finally alone McCoy and Van Buren can only stare at one another.
“Would you like to sit down?”
McCoy gives her a brief smile and takes the seat nearest to her, “Thanks.”
Van Buren shrugs, “So... what’s on your mind?”
“Well... how are you?”
“Alive, thanks to you. Doctor says that I should be able to get outta here next week.”
“Good, good- I didn’t think anyone could get rid of you that easily. You’re a tough, old lady.”
“Gee, thanks Jack.”
Jack looks hurt, “Well, Anita, you don’t have to be sarcastic about it... I was just trying to compliment you.”
“Yeah, and if it weren’t for the fact that I currently have a catheter in me I’d try to kick your ass.”
Jack grins broadly at this comment.
“I think you had more to talk about with me than just my health- am I right?”
The grin disappears and he turns his gaze to the floor, “What really happened out there?”
“Jack, I already gave a statement- go read it if you’re really that interested.”
“Anita, I know that something else was out there-”
“If you’re about to say that you think Agent Mulder is right, then catheter or no catheter, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“I’m wasn’t going to say that he is totally right but-”
Anita throws her head back and looks at the ceiling, “Oh good Lord, Jack. You can’t be serious!”
“Anita, I saw something and it wasn’t a person-”
“And I thought I saw something, too, Jack. But you know what? In the world that we live the only thing that matters is what you can prove.”
“So just because you don’t understand something or you have no facts to back it up-”
“It didn’t happen.”
“Obviously, we aren’t living in the same world.”
“Yes, we are. My job is to enforce the law- your job is to defend the law. The law is created and judged on facts. If you try to make sense of this case the same way you would any other it won’t work. Last time, I checked, the law had nothing to say on the paranormal.”
“If anyone ever suggested adding such a footnote, they’d be thrown in the looney bin.”
“Agent Mulder is a perfect example.”
“So if I pursue this, I’ll turn into Mulder?”
Van Buren shrugs, “Jack, maybe its not the truth you’re trying to find but absolution- a logical reason.”
Jack peers thoughtfully out the window, “Perhaps...”
“You’ll never find it by looking at the law.”
Jack stares at her for a moment and then gets up.
“I hope you feel better soon.”
“Thanks. And Jack?”
Jack turns back, “Yes?”
“May you find what you are looking for.”
St. Edward’s Catholic Church
Tuesday, 6:21pm
The last sun rays of the day shown through the stained-glass windows in the ancient church as Jack awkwardly genuflected and sat down. All around him the wise faces of the saints, angels, holy family, and God gaze down at him. They seem to be standing in judgement of him, reminding the man of his failures and sins- his arrogance.
Jack shoots a look at a particularly ominous painting of Jesus preaching to a group of men. The caption under it reads, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”
“Now I remember why I stopped coming to church,” he mutters, “I hate being cross-examined.”
Just out of Jack’s field of vision, a middle-aged man enters the church. Dressed all in black except for his collar it is obvious that he is a priest. After genuflecting and tending to some candles on the alter, he turns and notices that he is not alone. More than that, he recognizes his visitor.
“Jack?”
The figure in the pew starts at the sound of his name and smiles.
“Father Paul.”
“Jack McCoy, is it Christmas already? I mean, that is the only time I see you around here.”
Jack smiles at the humorous but true statement on the padre’s part, “If only my reasons could be that simple.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that young lady that I read about in the paper. The one you-”
“Killed?”
“Well, that wasn’t the word I was going to use.”
“Why not? That’s what I did, isn’t it?”
“She gave you no choice. It was either her life or the life of your friend.”
“But... It just seems...”
“Jack, something tells me that you are here for more than just to have me justify what you did. You do know that what you did was not a sin?”
“Yes...but thats not what I'm afraid of.”
“Then why are you really here?”
“Father, I saw something that night... Something that I can’t explain.”
The priest takes a seat next to Jack in the pew, “What was it?”
“I saw- well, I thought I saw a demon- something possessing that woman. And I felt an evil that scared even me. I have been witness to countless acts of violence but never anything with this level of viciousness. It was vengeful. But the only other person who saw it refuses to come forward with me and tell the truth.”
“I see.”
“I don’t know how to understand what happened.”
“Well, maybe that’s just the point, Jack. You’re not supposed to understand it.”
Jack stares at him, “That doesn’t help me much.”
“Then let me put it this way- when you were young, did you go to church on a regular basis?”
Jack grins slightly, “Do you mean more often than just Christmas and Easter?”
Father Paul nods.
“You kidding? I was a stinking alter boy.”
“Well, then you might remember something in Scripture about how we can not fathom the greatness of God. We are not capable of understanding His will- we can only trust in Him.”
“And?”
“Perhaps you were the only one to see what really happened because you were the only one who was meant to see it.”
“But Lt. Van Buren saw it, too.”
“But you believe in what you saw, right?”
“Yes...”
“And therein lies the difference, Jack.”
“So people died so could learn a lesson?”
“No. What happened would have happened whether or not you were there. But, Jack, you were there. You put your own life in danger to save a friend.”
“Father, I’m not a hero. I’m not even a very good person.”
Fr. Paul chuckles, “Jack, I think you’re a better person than you think you are. Maybe that’s what God is trying to show you.”
Jack arches his eyebrows in mock surprise, “We’re in church! You’re not supposed to lie in church!”
The padre can’t contain his laughter any more. Luckily, there is no one in the church besides Jack and himself. Jack grins broadly at this.
When he finally regains his composure, Fr. Paul looks Jack in the eye, “Seriously, though- you may have seen what you did to remind you of who you are.”
Jack looks away- he can’t stand to be talked to like this.
Fr Paul notices this and is concerned, “Jack, is there something you’re not telling me?”
Jack won’t meet his gaze but instead looks at the floor- the second time in one day, “What if that thing is what I am. All the things I’ve done. All the things I haven’t done. All the promises I’ve broken. All the people I’ve let down. Everything...”
“Jack, what makes you think that?”
Jack looks at his friend. He wants to tell him the whole truth but he just can’t bring himself to speak the words. So instead he gets up, “I’m sorry but I’m not ready for this.”
“Jack, wait! When was the last time you went to confession?”
But Jack doesn’t even turn around- he just waves his thanks as he leaves the church.
Outside Jack McCoy’s Apartment
Tuesday, 8:37pm
The sun is setting in a spectacular burst of reds, yellows, and oranges but Lennie Briscoe takes no notice of this as he approaches the brick-fronted apartment building. He reaches the door but is hesitant to knock. After waiting a few seconds he finally raises his hand and knocks. Almost immediately a disheveled Jack answers.
“Lennie! Wasn’t expecting to see you!”
Lennie wonders for a moment why Jack seems so cheery. Then he gets a whiff of his breath- yikes. Well, at least he was getting his night cap at home.
“Jack, we’ve found Arthur Macy.”
“Oh, really? How is he?”
Lennie can’t take it any more, “Okay forget about Macy for a moment- how are you, Jack?”
“Peachy keen!”
“Really?”
“Yeah... Why you askn’?
“Because I think I could take an octane rating on your breath right now.”
Jack starts to laugh manically, “You’re reeally funny, Lennie, you know that?”
“Yeah... Listen, Jack, you wanna talk?”
Jack seems to sober up right away, “No, Lennie, I don’t. Besides, haven’t you heard- I’m a fuckn’ hero so what would I need to talk about?”
“That thing you and Van Buren saw.”
“Oh that.”
“Yeah, that- Jack what was it?”
“Why do you wanna know? Want more proof to send me off to the looney bin with? Just like Laura.”
“Laura is dead.”
“And is that what you’re afraid is going to happen to me?”
“You keep drinking like this and it will happen.”
Jack gives him an angry look, “Walk a day in my shoes, Lennie, then come talk to me.”
“Ya know I can’t figure you out, Jack. You’re a smart, good-lookn’ lawyer and yet you sit here wallowing in self-pity. This goes deeper than this case, doesn’t it?”
“I have a lot of things I would rather forget- Lennie, did you have a reason for coming to see me or did you just feel like stopping by to bust my chops for the Hell of it?”
“Arthur Macy is dead.”
Jack sits down and rubs his hands across his face, “How?”
“Shot in the back of the head and dumped in the Hudson.”
“To make us think it’s a Mob hit.”
“Looks about like that.”
“Has his wife been notified?”
“Yeah, she’s going to be staying with family for now.”
“I want her to have police protection for as long as we can get away with it.”
“Right.”
“And work on this Mob angle. Probably a dead-end but we might just get lucky.”
“Mike and I are already looking into that.”
“Good.”
“Jack, what if this turns into another-”
“Keep the investigation open. There’s no statute of limitations on murder. We’ll get’em someday.”
Lennie nods, “Jack, I think she’s grateful to you.”
Jack whips his head up to glare at Lennie, “Who?”
“It must have been a Hellish life she lived- Laura, that is. I mean, thrown out of her own family. Left to die on the streets and then she ends up being that thing you saw. Death might have been the only way she would find any rest.”
Jack looks away, “She and I were a lot alike. I’m afraid that what was in her is in me, too. I mean, I’m not going to run around killing people and shape-shifting but-”
“But you’ve done a lot of things you regret.”
Jack sighs.
“We all have but you gotta get past it and move on. Sure, you and me, we were once real sons-a-bitches but we’ve gotten better,” Lennie gets a look of amusement on his face, “Damn, if my father had been around for some of the stunts I pulled I bet he would have smacked me upside the head and told me to act like a gentleman.”
“My father would have congratulated me. Would have said that I was finally becoming a real man. No matter how much distance I put between us I can’t escape him. I mean, he’s dead and I’m still afraid of feeling because he’d tell me to stop acting like a pansy and suck it up. And at the same time I was afraid of becoming him... But if I wouldn’t listen to him... Well, he had other ways of persuasion that would make me listen.”
Lennie looks at his friend in horror, “He hit you?”
“And Mom and my sister and my brother,” Jack gives Lennie a bemused smile, “We were his stress-relievers.”
Lennie can only stare. Jack notices this.
“Any ways, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. You don’t need to know it and I don’t like talking about it.”
“But, Jack-”
“When the murder happen? Or does Rogers not know yet?”
“Jack-”
But he has left the front room. Lennie makes to follow him but is met half-way by Jack returning from his bedroom with his beat-up leather jacket in tow.
“Lets go see her together.”
“Who? Jack, hang on a second.”
“Rogers, who else?”
“Jack, wait. I want to talk to you.”
Jack whips around, “I said that the discussion is over. Now lets get going- we’ve got work to do.”
“Jack! Jack!” But Jack is already out the front door and heading for Lennie’s car, “Dammit, Jack! Hey, I’m driving!”