The Best American Crime Reporting 2009 - Jeffrey Toobin [44]
HAIRDRESSER JEN BISICCHIA STARED furiously at two bogus checks from Tacoma, Washington. She had finished weaving in “Morgan Greenhouse’s” extensions, ending a seven-hour appointment. Morgan had been pleased with the results; she’d stared at her reflection with approval as she reapplied her makeup. Then she’d flashed a Georgia driver’s license and got out of there fast, leaving behind $1,900 in what Bisicchia assumed were phony checks—since it made little sense that a girl from Georgia would have a Tacoma bank account. Just then the phone rang. It was a woman calling to find out why she’d been charged $500 a week earlier.
“Oh, my God!” Jen Bisicchia shouted; the charge had been “Morgan’s” deposit. The victim told Bisicchia her tale: She had just moved to Philly—as it turned out, across the hall from Jocelyn and Ed—and weeks later various credit-card companies notified her of a batch of new accounts in her name. She told Bisicchia that the thieves had been using a West Philly mailing address.
That’s all Bisicchia needed to hear. She jumped in her car and found the UPS Store. Then she started calling the cell number “Morgan” had left with the salon. She dialed all night until, at 11:30 p.m., a man picked up.
“Is Morgan there?” Bisicchia asked.
“Uh, she’s not available.”
“Oh, is this Mr. Greenhouse?” she said. Bisicchia told the guy that Morgan had left her textbook behind. “You can come by tomorrow and pick it up. Or I could drop it off to you,” she suggested. The man offered to meet her at a Starbucks. “I don’t feel comfortable giving Morgan’s book to someone that’s not Morgan,” Bisicchia said, enjoying herself now. “But you know what’s funny? Her name’s not Morgan! And I know what’s going on, and I want my money.” The man hung up.
At 3:30 that morning, Bisicchia received a text message—from Morgan. It read:
“Hello Jen Bisicchia. You don’t know my name but I know yours. I also know ur nice place on wolf st and how u get home at night. youre the one who should be worried…you seem like a smart girl, walk away now or you will regret it.”
Shaken, Bisicchia turned the message over to the police the next morning. Things unfolded quickly from there. The police discovered a package of lingerie waiting for Box 124 at the UPS Store, addressed to the across-the-hall victim. So the police sat back. Explains Detective Sweeney, “There was a chance these two idiots might come back and pick up the stuff.” Which they did later that same morning, pushing through the glass doors, Jocelyn wearing a red beret, though with tired rings beneath her eyes, then waiting patiently while the clerk pretended to have trouble locating their package. And there beside the packing-tape display, Jocelyn Kirsch and Edward Anderton’s joy ride came to an end.
Even after her arrest, Jocelyn clung to her fictions as long as she could. In a holding cell, her mascara smeared from crying, she tucked her long locks into her collar and insisted it was her real hair—no way could she be the hair-extension thief. Police had to call in a stylist to fish around in her hair and confirm its fakeness, while Jocelyn sat stunned, her huge violet eyes open wide. It wasn’t until after her mug shot that she removed her colored contacts, revealing the brown irises underneath.
JOCELYN AND ED’S TALE could end only one way: with their parents bailing them out of jail. Despite prosecutors’ arguments that the pair posed a flight risk, Ed and Jocelyn were released into the custody of their families. Ed is now sulking in his childhood bedroom in Washington, while Jocelyn is holed up at her mom’s Marin County house. Their first court date is scheduled for May 12th.