The young red-haired man peered suspiciously out through the cracked front door at Woody's badge.

"Brian Weems?"

The young man's face fell with relief. "No. I'm Kevin Weems. Brian's my little brother. He's not here right now."

Woody licked his dry lips. He wasn't giving up easily. Not when he was this close. "Mind if I wait? I've got a few routine questions to ask."

There was a long pause. "I don't know..." Kevin said hesitantly. "Just for a little while."

He shut the door, and Woody could hear him sliding the chain lock. He opened the door just wide enough for Woody to slip through.

"Thanks. I thought maybe you were Brian. The red hair."

Kevin ran his hand self-consciously through his hair. "Yeah, we're both red-heads. My parents were red-heads, too." He waved his hand at on old photograph over the mantle of a ginger-haired family of four.

"You called him your little brother, but you look about the same age in that picture."

"I'm almost exactly a year older. Irish twins."

Kevin stood anxiously looking out the window. Woody smiled and tried to put him at ease. "Yeah. Same with me and my brother. So. You two live here together with your parents?"

"My parents are dead. Car accident eight years ago." Kevin said abruptly. "It's been just the two of us since then. We practically raised ourselves."

"I'm sorry to hear..."

"So, what did you want to talk to my brother about?" Kevin interrupted.

Woody shrugged amiably. "There was a girl murdered in one of the buildings where he did some repair work. I thought maybe he might have seen something..."

Kevin frowned. "Oh, I doubt it."

"What makes you say that?"

Kevin said nothing but moved purposefully to the center of the living room. This kid knew more than he was telling. Woody knew it. He scanned the room. There was a stack of textbooks and a backpack slung in one of the chairs.

"You in college?"

Kevin's face brightened. "Law school, actually. I skipped a few grades."

"I guess you don't want to hear my lawyer jokes, then, do you?" he snickered. Kevin was stone faced. Woody cleared his throat and went on. "That must be tough. Law school ain't cheap, from what I hear."

"I have a partial scholarship. Student loans. Brian covers the rest," he said nonchalantly.

"So, little brother is working his fingers to the bone while you go to law school," Woody said in mock outrage.

"Of course." There was a cold flatness to his voice that startled Woody. "Brian would do anything for me."

There was a long pause. Woody began to pace around the living room, taking in the photographs, the battered furniture. This was where the killer lived. He could feel it. He took long, deep breaths to maintain his composure.

"Is my brother a suspect?" Kevin asked suddenly. "Is he in trouble?"

Woody flashed him an artificial smile. You don't even want to know what kind of trouble he's in.

"I just have some questions for him, really." It was the standard line, but it seemed to satisfy Kevin. He finally took a seat in an old armchair.

"I really don't know when he'll be back."

Woody glanced nervously at his watch. He should go back to the precinct and tell Carver what he had found out. "We'll just give him a few more minutes."

Woody continued to pace. Kevin's voice broke the silence.

"So, tell me about it. There was a murder, you say? I think I read about it. Over in Charlestown."

"Yes, that's right."

"I'm taking a course in criminal law this semester," Kevin explained. "I think that's where I'd like to practice. So, this killer. He violates them. Doesn't he? But he killed this time. Am I right?"

Woody looked down at Kevin. His voice had grown strange, with an almost distant dreaminess.

"Yeah..."

"Those women must have felt so...powerless."

Woody spun around. It made sense now.

Brian would do anything for me...

It all happened in an instant. Kevin looked up into Woody's face with a dawning realization of horror. He jumped from the armchair as Woody reached for his gun. Kevin staggered forward in a vain attempt to flee, but Woody was there, blocking his exit. He pointed the gun with a trembling hand at the killer's head.

Kevin threw his hands up and slowly sunk to his knees.

"That's why I couldn't find your fingerprint in the system. Because you've never been arrested. It was you who was the peeping Tom, not Brian. You made Brian take the fall, didn't you?" Woody's voice shook with uncontrolled rage.

Kevin said nothing.

"How'd you two work it this time? Little brother goes in to do some repair work and makes copies of the keys so big brother can go in later and do his dirty work? Only it wasn't good enough just watching this time, was it? You're not just a sick little pervert. You're a rapist. And a killer."

Woody took a step in toward Kevin.

"What are you going to do?" Kevin's voice was small and frightened.

"Will anybody really miss a rapist and a killer? And the world certainly doesn't need any more lawyers."

He placed the barrel of the revolver against Kevin's head.

"Woody...don't. Don't do it!"

It was Jordan, inching her way slowly into the room.

"Get out of here, Jordan. You don't want to see this."

"Don't do it! It's not worth it. Please, Woody." She inched closer to him. Her voice was thick with fear. "This is about me, Woody. This isn't about you. It happened to me. Believe me, I'd like to take that gun and do it myself, but I can't. I won't. And neither will you."

He paused. She thought for a moment he would lower his hand, but he did not. He took another step in, digging the barrel into the center of Kevin's forehead.

Her eyes snapped shut as she waited for the inevitable shot.

And then it was over. He took a step back, and his arm fell limply to his side.

Carver and Santana ran into the house, followed by a stream of uniformed officers.

Carver said something to Jordan and Woody while the officers cuffed Kevin Weems, but neither of them heard it.

They stood there, motionless, amid the chaos as the officers led the killer away.