is?'
She just stared.
'Me? I've never had a drink in my life. I just have this weakness for weak women. Always have.'
He ran his left hand slowly over her right hip, his other hand remaining on the butt of the gun. He smiled.
'I think we're going to do it right here. What do you think of that?'
'You won't hurt me?'
'No,' he said. 'But admit it, Paulette. There is something exciting about doing it in public. Especially with a total stranger.' He pulled down his zipper. 'But that's why you drink, isn't it? Because you hate yourself? Because you're a whore?'
She didn't know if it was really a question. She remained silent. He continued.
'Of course it is. And you know what? I bet you've gotten plenty loaded over the years, and fucked plenty of guys in alleys. Right?'
This was definitely a question. When she didn't answer he took the revolver from his waistband and stuck it between her legs. Hard.
'Answer… the fucking… question.'
'Yes.'
He ran the barrel of the gun up and down, applying even more pressure. 'Say it.'
'I've fucked a lot of guys in alleys.'
'And you loved it.'
'And I loved it.'
'Because you're a fucking whore.'
'Because I'm a fucking whore.'
'I thought so.' He slipped the gun back into his waistband. 'You know that other girl? She gave me a hard time. She didn't have to die.'
'The other girl?'
'The redhead. The fat one. Marcy something, the papers said. Smelled like a cheap slut. Which she was, of course.'
He leaned in, sniffed her hair.
'You don't smell cheap,' he said. 'You smell good.'
A shadow crawled slowly across the ground, pooling at their feet. Danny noticed, spun around.
Behind him, a few paces away, stood the petite blonde from the AA meeting, the one wearing the green Temple University hooded sweatshirt. In her hand was a Glock 17, pointed at the center of Danny's chest.
'My name is Nicci,' the blonde said. 'And I'm a police officer.'
'Hi, Nicci!' Detective Jessica Balzano responded.
During the previous three weeks, on her undercover assignment to catch the AA Killer, Jessica had been Paulette. No last name. Just Paulette. She discovered early on in the assignment that no one had a last name at AA.
Behind Detective Nicolette Malone stood two other detectives, as well as a veteran patrolman named Stan Keegan. At either end of the alley were a pair of sector cars.
Danny looked at Jessica, his hands trembling now. 'You're a cop?'
Jessica stepped back, drew her own weapon from a holster at the small of her back, leveled it. 'Put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers.'
Danny hesitated, his eyes shifting from side to side.
'Do it now.''
Danny froze.
'Suit yourself,' Jessica said. 'But if you don't do what I tell you to do, you will die where you stand. In an Ed Hardy T-shirt, no less. With your zipper down. Your call.'
The suspect, whose real name was Lucas Anthony Thompson, seemed to realize his two choices. He was leaving this alley either in handcuffs or on a gurney. In an instant his will was broken. His shoulders sagged. He put his hands on top of his head, fingers interlaced.
Jessica had seen it a hundred times. And it never failed to warm her heart.
Gotcha.
Nicci Malone stepped forward, pulled the weapon from the suspect's waistband, handed it to Officer Keegan, who put it in an evidence bag. Nicci then swept the suspect's legs from beneath him. He hit the ground hard, face down. An instant later Nicci dropped a knee into the center of Thompson's back, cuffed him.
'It's almost impossible you're this fucking stupid,' Nicci said.
Jessica holstered her gun, stepped forward. Each grabbing an arm, the two detectives pulled the suspect roughly to his feet.
'You are under arrest for the murder of Marcia Jane Kimmelman,' Jessica said. She read him his Miranda rights. 'Do you understand these rights?'
Thompson nodded, still dazed.
'You have to answer out loud,' she said. 'You have to say 'yes.''
'Yes.'
'Actually, I want you to say, 'Yes, I understand, Detective Goddess Balzano.''
Thompson didn't say it. He was still a bit stunned.
Ah, well, Jessica thought. Worth a shot. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the small digital recorder. She rewound the recording, clicked Play.
You know that other girl? She gave me a hard time. She didn't have to die.
Jessica clicked off the recorder. Thompson hung his head.
They had plenty with which to charge him. An eyewitness, a good sampling of DNA, ballistics. The recording was just icing on the cake. The DAs office loved recordings. Sometimes a recording made all the difference in the world.
As uniformed officers led Thompson away, Officer Stan Keegan leaned against the brick wall, crossed his arms over his kettle-drum chest, a Cheshire-cat grin on his face.
'What's so funny?' Jessica asked.
'You two,' he said, nodding at her and Nicci. 'I'm just trying to figure out which one of you is Batman and which one is Robin.'
'Batman? Dream on, mortal,' Jessica said. 'I'm Wonder Woman.'
'And I'm She Hulk,' Nicci added.
The two women bumped fists.
There was a young man standing next to the sector car, talking to one of the uniformed officers. He was tall, dark-haired, lanky, and had about him a nervous energy. He carried an expensive-looking digital video camera. Jessica soon realized who he was, and what he was doing there.
She had gotten the memo the week before, and had forgotten all about it. Somebody from Penn State was making a documentary about the homicide unit — a day-in-the-life sort of thing — and the directive from high on high was to cooperate. The memo said the filmmaker would be there for a week.
As Jessica approached, the young man noticed her. He smoothed his hair with his free hand, stood a little taller.
'Hi,' he said. 'I'm David Albrecht.'
'Jessica Balzano.'
They shook hands. David Albrecht wore a gold crucifix around his neck, along with a Nittany Lions long- sleeved T-shirt. He was cleanshaven, save for a sparse bleached-white soul patch beneath his lower lip. It was the only thing keeping his face from being feminine.
'I'd know you anywhere,' he said. He pumped her arm with a little too much enthusiasm.
'Really? And why is that?' Jessica asked, retrieving her limb before it was shaken off.
Albrecht smiled. 'I do my research. You were in that Philadelphia
Magazine feature a few years ago, the one about the 'new breed' of female detective. Remember that?'
Jessica remembered the article well. She had fought against it but had lost the battle. She was not crazy
