The Court of last Resort
A Law & Order/Star Chamber Merge
1995
In retrospect, Jack McCoy should probably have attached more weight to this particular series of murders than he initially did.
But the first guy, Mickey Scott, was a rapist and murderer who managed to evade conviction for his crimes back in early '95.
He had been found dead in his apartment, less than a week later, sniped right through his bedroom window; and that sniper…
A real professional who left absolutely no trace behind, not even a shell-casing.
Well…That had been bad, a killer had murdered his victim, and gotten away clean. But the victim wasn't exactly someone everyone mourned…
Then, just after Adam Schiff appointed jack McCoy Executive Assistant DA in the wake of Ben Stone's departure, another murder occurred.
Again, it was someone who was patently guilty of murder, and, again, the killer left no evidence behind; just a body with a single bullet behind the eyes.
And, again, Leo Haney had been prosecuted by Jack McCoy, a man who freely admitted he hated losing.
So…this murder made McCoy distinctly uneasy.
Still, the 27th's detectives, in this case Detectives Briscoe and Curtis, didn't seem to be taking any interest in him as a suspect.
At least, not yet…
Arriving at his office at 1 Hogan Place, early in the morning-he had picked up a newspaper on his way to work-McCoy leafed through the pages quickly; scanning the headlines before settling to the day's work.
Damn…
A third murder?
Edward Bellows…
Jack McCoy had prosecuted him too. He had put Bellows on trial for strangling his wife, and it had seemed to be an open-and-shut case.
Until Paul Kopell eviscerated the case. He had managed to get virtually all of the evidence tossed out…
Kopell was a friend of McCoy's from all the way back to Law School. But he was a Defense Attorney, and every bit as dedicated to his job as McCoy…
Edward Bellows, found dead in his bedroom, with a sniper's bullet between the eyes, and no evidence to indicate the identity of the shooter. Not even a partial print…
There was a knock on his office door, and Adam Schiff walked in, looking as grim as McCoy felt right now.
"You've seen the paper?" the man asked.
"Yeah…" McCoy patted the paper, the article lying face up on his desk.
"Not sure what I should do about this," he finally admitted.
"Detective Briscoe called your receptionist, Jack. You've officially been promoted to a Person of interest. You'd better find a lawyer. Don't even think of going Pro Se on this."
McCoy nodded. He knew the old saw about attorneys who had themselves for lawyers.
"I'll call Paul," he spoke dryly.
"Good," Schiff nodded. "He killed all your cases. Maybe he'll kill this one too."
"Hope they find the killer soon," McCoy picked up his phone, dialed Kopell's personal number. It was picked up on the third ring.
Detective Lennie Briscoe walked into 1 Hogan Place, headed up to Jack McCoy's office, followed by Detective Rey Curtis; and Briscoe felt really at odds with himself here.
They were coming here to interview Jack McCoy, as a suspect; as a potential murderer.
It just didn't feel right…
But Detectives of Police didn't have the luxury of indulging their feelings. They had to follow the evidence trail; and that led right to Jack McCoy.
All three victims had been prosecuted by Jack McCoy; all three victims were clearly guilty, and all three-in spite of clear guilt-had escaped conviction.
I don't like to lose…
Jack McCoy had been heard to say that several times.
Jack McCoy wasn't alone in his office. Paul Kopell was there too, standing behind McCoy as the Executive Assistant DA sat at his desk, and Briscoe felt torn about the whole thing.
On the one hand, Defense Attorneys were the enemy. They got cases thrown out of court, charges dismissed, and perps acquitted.
But it also meant Jack McCoy was being sensible about the whole thing, taking appropriate measures.
"Detective Briscoe," McCoy was smiling slightly.
"Counselor, I think you know why we're here?"
"Yeah...if you'll give me the times of the three murders, I'll let you know where I was at the time."
Briscoe gave the dates and times, and McCoy looked through his schedule book.
A notorious workaholic, it was pretty clear that McCoy's days were pretty much scheduled down to the last minute, and yes, the evidence showed that, when the murders occurred, he was generally either with someone at the office-either Adam Schiff or Claire Kincaid-or at one of his favorite watering holes, drinking with friends…
Briscoe was pretty sure McCoy was a borderline alcoholic, and that worried him. But that was a worry for another day.
"Did you really think I could kill anyone?" McCoy asked.
"No," Rey Curtis spoke up, and Lennie Briscoe sighed.
From the first time they had met, a clear antagonism had arisen between Jack McCoy and Rey Curtis. The two men just didn't get along well…
"But our investigation of you isn't over by a long shot," Curtis continued. "The killer is a professional sniper, and you could have hired him."
"On my salary?" McCoy raised an eyebrow. "I'm not exactly swimming in cash…"
"You could prove it…Counselor," there was plenty of challenge in Curtis' voice.
That was when Kopell put a hand on McCoy's shoulder, leaned over, and whispered something in the other man's ear. McCoy whispered something back. Then Kopell nodded, and McCoy turned back to Briscoe and Curtis.
"You'll be wanting my telephone records and my financials?"
"Yeah…" Briscoe nodded.
"All right," McCoy nodded. "You'll have them by this afternoon."
When the records arrived, Briscoe went over the financial records with an expert.
Jack McCoy's financial records were the most boring records Briscoe had ever seen.
Salary in…taxes out…monthly bills out…Hmm…Sumatriptan prescription…he has migraines?
Lennie's ex-wife had those too, took Sumatriptan on a regular basis.
Everything in Jack McCoy's financial records, including bank statements, was accounted for, right down to the last penny.
His phone records, too, were utterly devoid of anything even remotely nefarious.
McCoy doesn't have anything to do with these killings…
Curtis looked faintly disappointed; but Briscoe felt nothing but relief.
The Counselor can be an ass sometimes, but he's an honest ass…
What the hell were you thinking? You could have gotten an innocent man convicted on murder! Multiple murders!
Mr. McCoy hasn't been arrested, has he?
No, not yet…But if this keeps up, if you keep on killing perps from his cases, he could be…
Then maybe he needs to be more diligent in his work.
There's no one more diligent than Jack! No one! Think we need to take a beat. Stop for a bit. We're beginning to do collateral damage here
Paul…This is a war. As surely as the war on drugs and terror. Sadly, there's always collateral damage. It comes with the territory, and you knew that when you joined us.
But…this is Executive Assistant DA Jack McCoy we almost got sent up the river. Surely, that's not acceptable collateral damage?
"You've been cleared, Counselor," Briscoe sounded relieved over the phone; a relief Jack McCoy shared.
"Thanks for letting me know, Lennie," McCoy smiled. "I owe you one."
"I'll be sure to collect."
McCoy put the phone down, looked over at Paul Kopell.
"I'm in the clear," McCoy said.
"That's good," Kopell sighed.
"Paul?"
Kopell looked miles away.
"You coming down with something?"
"No, Jack…I'm fine."
McCoy sighed. Adam Schiff had taken him off all the current cases. The current caseload had been shared out between all the other Assistant DAs.
He picked up his phone, called Adam Schiff.
"They cleared me," he announced when Schiff picked up the phone.
"Good," he could hear Adam Schiff's smile. "Why don't you take the day, Jack? Get some rest so you'll be fresh come tomorrow?"
"Yeah…" McCoy nodded. "I can do that. See you tomorrow morning."
McCoy put the phone down, looked up at Paul Kopell, standing by the shelves of law books.
"Adam's kicked me out for the day,"
"I see…" Kopell nodded. "Since you're in the clear, my day is free too. Best cure for a nervous day is a game of hoops."
"Yeah…" McCoy stood. "Let's go."
Three hours later, at the local gym…
A couple of hours of one-on-one basketball had done the trick; and Jack McCoy felt pleasantly exhausted.
He'd also done far better at scoring than he usually did; and that worried him a little. Something had put Paul Kopell off his game.
Both men showered and clean, they walked back to McCoy's office.
"You going to tell me what's bothering you?" McCoy asked.
"Hmm?"
"You usually trounce the ever-living crap out of me," McCoy tossed his green jacket over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Kopell sighed.
"I'm not sure where to begin…" he sighed, pausing on the sidewalk. "It's…tough."
"Paul…If there's some sort of problem…maybe I can help?"
McCoy turned to face him, and that was when it happened…
He heard a sound, something like a cross between cracking glass, and a bursting melon.
Paul Kopell staggered backward a pace, falling against the brick wall of the building, collapsing to the sidewalk.
Jack McCoy stood there, feet rooted to the ground in shock; ears buzzing, and he barely registered the screams and shout of the other witnesses to the shooting.
The shooting…
Paul Kopell lay there, in a crumpled heap, the brick wall painted red.
Blood…and worse, sprayed across the brick wall.
His head…
McCoy stared down in numb horror, staring at the bloody ruin that had been a man's head only a few minutes before...