Still on the phone, Conner now heard only silence. Shouting his wife’s name over and over he finally hung up to call for help.

“911, what’s your emergency?” said the dispatcher.

“You’ve got to help me. I think my wife was attacked in our apartment in New York City,” said a frantic Conner.

“Why do you think that, sir?”

“I’m in DC and I was on the phone with my wife when the doorbell rang. She put her phone down to answer it and then I heard a scuffle. My wife screamed ‘help’ and then it sounded like there was a fight. I kept shouting to her and then suddenly, all the noise stopped. I didn’t know what else to do so I hung up and called you. Please, you need to send someone over there right away. Something’s happened. Please.”

As soon as Conner finished the call to 911, the dispatcher put out a call to local police in Manhattan and officers were sent to the Brandts’ building. Conner grabbed his overnight bag, jumped in his car and began his four-and-a-half hour drive to New York. Going way over the speed limit, he tried Zoe’s phone over and over but it only went to voicemail.

Fifteen minutes later, while Detectives Kim and Williams were in their car heading back to the station to sign out for the night, Daryl William’s phone rang.

“You’re kidding me?” said Daryl as he listened to a police dispatcher. “What’s the address? Did you say Brandt? There are officers on site already? Is she all right? We’re on our way.” Daryl ended the call and looked at his partner. “Change of plans. Drive to Zoe Brandt’s apartment,” he said.

“Another murder mystery? I thought we were signing out?” said Heather as she turned the car around.

“911 got a call from Zoe Brandt’s husband. He’s in DC and was on the phone with her. He says the doorbell rang and after his wife answered it, there was some kind of a struggle. That’s all I know.”

“I knew that woman was going to get herself into trouble,” said Heather as she put on her siren and hit the gas pedal. “Is she all right?”

“She’s okay. A patrol car is already there. They reported that her apartment looked like a bloodbath,” said Daryl. “They thought it might be the Strangler, that’s why they called us.”

“Civilians should not be out chasing bad guys,” said Heather shaking her head as she blew through a red light.

When the detectives arrived at the Brandt’s building two squad cars were already parked out front, lights flashing. The detectives adjusted their masks and walked up to the front door of the building at the same time as a police photographer.