The New World Covenant

  The corridor was dark, the lighting low to allow patients to sleep but still light enough for the nurses to work in.

  He saw the young officer sitting in a hard chair outside one of the rooms. He was drinking from a cup and reading a book.

  Jason knew that the police were aware of him but it wasn't time yet, but it would be soon. He stared at the young man intently as his eyes began to glow.

  The officer's eyes glazed over as a voice entered his mind, “Take a break Sean." He set his cup and book on the floor beside the chair, got to his feet and oblivious to Jason, walked towards the nurse's station.

  Jason went past him and slipped into a room two doors down. The child in the bed was tossing and turning, consumed within his dreams. Jason moved quietly to the bed, placed his hand on the child's forehead, and closed his eyes, "Rest now my little one." The child grew still and his breathing settled into a soft rhythm, the nightmare passed from the child and he slept peacefully on.

  He opened the door of the room and looked back to the chair before Cooper's room. It was still empty and he could hear soft laughter from the nurse's station. Ah, young love. I guess someone else was on his mind; he smiled to himself and entered Cooper's dark room.

  He stopped at the foot of the bed and listened to the laboured sounds of the child's breathing. After a moment, he nodded with satisfaction.

  For Cooper, it would soon be time as well.

  He continued his visits without benefit of witnesses.

  His rounds now completed for the last time. He would not have to come back anymore. He entered the stairwell at the end of the corridor. His quest was clear in his mind. He exited into the cool night air, breathed in deeply, and sighed in contentment.

  Chapter 29

  They both arrived at the office early. Jack found a folder on his desk and glanced through it. He shrugged and handed it to Murphy. "You're going to really hate this one. It's the preliminary forensic report on the gang scene."

  "Something tells me it's going to be a long day," Murphy commented as he took the file from Jack and placed it on his desk.

  "I think I'd better get another cup of sludge, might help me get through it," he said as he went back to the coffee pot.

  Jack followed him and helped himself to a nut-filled donut from the box. As he bit down on the slightly stale piece of dough, he grimaced in pain and touched his left jaw.

  Murphy noticed and commented, "You really need to see a dentist you know."

  Jack nodded, "I did make an appointment, and my tooth is killing me."

  Murphy replied, "Maybe you should stop eating those things. It might help."

  Jack glanced over at him. "Are you kidding?"

  They headed back to the desks with their coffee and Murphy pulled the report towards him.

  Standard report, Murphy thought. As usual, there is plenty of blood, no additional weapons found at the scene. The results on the gun found at the scene indicated that it appeared to be in working order but not been fired. There was however, blood on the blade of the knife found at the scene. As he read the report, he realized there was something unusual but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. While re-reading it for the third time, the nagging inconsistency finally revealed itself. He started to go through the pile of papers and folders on his desk.

  "Jack, did you notice something strange about this case?"

  Jack looked up at Murphy. "No, it seemed pretty normal, just a typical gang fight. What did you see?"

  "It would be normal if there were shell casings. I still can't figure out why they didn't use guns. We know that at least one person had a gun. What gang member doesn't carry a gun these days? Why would they go back to clubs and chains when guns are so easy to get a hold of and where are the injured? You can't tell me with the amount of blood on the scene there weren't some serious injuries, stitches, broken bones, something. Did we get any reports from the hospitals? I don't see any here."

  Jack sat up straight and scratched his head. "I know what you mean, I can't remember the last time I went to a gang scene where they didn't use guns. I haven't seen any other reports. I know Porter was looking into the hospitals. I'll give him a call later, maybe he just hasn't found out anything yet. I think it's time to go have a talk with that witness, what was her name? Susan...Sarah...no, it was Sylvia, Sylvia Alvarez."

  "Let's hope she's in a talkative mood this morning." Murphy grabbed his jacket and they headed for the car.

  As they walked through the General Hospital Murphy rubbed his eyes. This hospital had become his new home and it gave him comfort knowing Seraphina was just a few floors from him.

  They entered the elevator and pushed the button for the second floor. The crowd of people that shared the confined space seemed to press into him, but he knew it was only his own paranoia, he had never been fond of closed in spaces. When the doors slid open onto their floor, he breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way past the other visitors.

  They flashed their badges at the nurse and asked for Sylvia's room number.

  Sylvia was quietly lying in the bed watching them. She did not speak.

  Murphy looked at the young Latina girl, her right cheek bruised and puffy, and her top lip sporting a small cut.

  "Good morning Sylvia. My name is Detective Murphy and this is my partner Detective Richards. We'd like to ask you a few questions about last night."

  Sylvia nodded but still did not speak.

  "Can you tell us what happened?" Murphy asked.

  She shook her head and a tear slid down her cheek. "Did you find my Vince yet?"

  "Sylvia, we don't know who Vince is. We need you to tell us what happened so we can look for him." Murphy spoke quietly to the pale young girl, "Who is Vince?"

  "You need to find that man...he made my Vince disappear," she responded, her eyes blazing. It was as if a curtain lifted from her and she began to speak fast, her hands and face animated with anger so deep, they could almost feel it.

  "Vince is my man. His name is Vincent Diaz, but everyone calls him Vince."

  Murphy asked, "Has he ever been arrested?"

  "Yeah, a few times," Sylvia responded reluctantly.

  "Can you describe him for me? We'll start a missing persons report when we get back to the station. You wouldn't happen to have a recent picture of him with you do you?" Murphy asked.

  "In my purse is a picture. He's 6'1" tall, has blond hair and blue eyes. I think he's about one hundred ninety pounds." She reached into the small drawer beside the bed and pulled out her purse. The picture she handed him showed two smiling young people, Sylvia and a young white man, "This was just taken a couple of months ago."

  Jack pocketed the picture. "We should get this report started right away under the circumstances. Now, let's talk about what happened in that alley."

  She confirmed that there had been a fight but was quick to point out that Vince was just protecting their neighbourhood, refusing to admit it was gang related.

  "We found a gun and switchblade at the scene with a pile of clothes, did these belong to Vince?" Jack asked.

  Sylvia nodded. "Yes they were Vince's. They were all carrying guns, but none of them would work, it was kind of weird."

  "What happened then?" Jack encouraged her.

  She shrugged. "They just kept fighting you know, some had knives, others just used their fists, whatever they could find. It would have been over quickly, it always is but this time it was different, there was this guy..." she paused, not sure what to tell them.

  Sensing something of importance, Murphy and Jack leaned in to hear her.

  "Go on Sylvia," Jack urged.

  She did. "There was a guy in the shadows watching the fight. None of us had ever seen him before. He just walked right up to Vince. He didn't say much but he sure got Vince and Bobby really mad."

  "How did you get the bruise?" Murphy asked, gesturing to her cheek.

  She crossed her arms and shook her head. "I disrespected Vince and he hit me, but I des
erved it," she was quick to defend her attacker, "But that guy didn't have to kill him cause of it."

  "What did the stranger actually do Sylvia?" asked Murphy.

  She raised her arms and responded, "He told Vince that he had had enough of him and then Vince just vanished. I know you won't believe it but it happened. One minute Vince was there and the next gone, just his clothes on the ground where he'd been standing." Murphy looked over at Jack.

  "Did the stranger say or do anything else?" Jack asked.

  She thought for a moment. "Just before Vince vanished, I remember looking up at the guy, and it looked like his eyes were glowing, but he turned his head away for just a moment, and when he turned back, they were in the shadows and I couldn't see them anymore. Oh, and he told me that Vince needed it, but I don't know what he meant."

  Jack nodded his head and asked, "Can you think of anything else?"

  She thought for a moment. "Not really...he was real calm, kind of spooky. He told me to believe and then he just walked away. Are you going to find out what happened to Vince?"

  "We'll see what we can do Sylvia. Can you describe this stranger?" asked Jack.

  She closed her eyes. "It was hard to see him in the shadows, but he was a white guy about your height," pointing at Jack, "and kind of skinny. Oh, and his eyes had a kind of greenish glow."

  Murphy spoke up, "Is there anything else you can think of Sylvia? You aren't giving us much to go on."

  "It was dark and it happened pretty quickly," she responded defiantly.

  Murphy pressed her, "Would you be able to identify him?"

  "Yeah, I think so," she answered.

  "Well thank you for your time Sylvia, we'll be in touch. Here's my card in case you think of anything else," Murphy said.

  "I will be going home today. You'll find me there." Sylvia lay back in the bed and closed her eyes as Murphy and Jack left the room.

  Murphy said to Jack, "Okay, we have the name of a possible victim, Vincent Diaz. If he was arrested at some point, he'll be in the database. We need to pull his information and start the missing person's report. Include the recent photo Sylvia gave us. Let's go back to the office."

  ********

  Murphy sat at his desk, typing up his notes from his investigation so far. Jack had won the daily coin toss and had to make the lunch run. Hopefully he gets it right this time. Hot mustard on his corned beef sandwich, not the gourmet stuff Jack was so fond of. In all their years of working together, Jack was always trying to expand Murphy's meal choices. Seraphina used to laugh when he came home with stories of some of the things Jack would try to get him to eat. She used to say he needed to be more adventurous. Basic deli foods were good enough for him, don't try and feed him duck paté or beef tongue sandwiches. No matter how much Jack tried, Murphy wasn't going to change. He was much too set in his ways.

  What he wouldn't give to hear Seraphina laugh again, he'd almost be willing to try eating something different if it would help. Maybe when he talked to her again he would tell her that. He didn't know if anything was getting through to her but it was worth a try.

  A few minutes later Jack handed him his sandwich wrapped in the traditional butcher's paper from Schwartz's Diner. He removed the paper and lifted the top piece of rye bread, good plain old mustard. His mouth watered in anticipation as he lifted the sandwich to his mouth to take his first bite. Best deli in the city, he thought to himself.

  The phone on Jack's desk rang and he swore as he reached for it. He was madly scribbling down information on a pad as Murphy wolfed down his sandwich. From the look on Jack's face, it sounded urgent.

  Jack slammed the phone down and looked over at Murphy.

  "Oh boy, we're really in it this time." He shook his head as he stood up, "Let's go, I'll explain on the way." He grabbed his jacket in one hand and his sandwich in the other.

  Murphy didn't ask questions, just surged to his feet, and led the way out of the station tossing his sandwich wrapper into the nearest garbage can.

  Murphy slid behind the wheel and turned to his partner, "Where to?"

  "Rabbi Asher Jossel's home, it seems he and his daughter have disappeared."

  "What?" Murphy exploded, remembering the sensationalism in the events surrounding the Rabbi and his family.

  "I thought the daughter was in a mental institute?" Murphy said as he pulled away from the curb.

  Jack nodded. "She was, but when they checked on her this morning, she couldn't be found so they phoned the Rabbi's house and when his sister went to tell him it seems he's gone as well."

  "You realize this is going to be a media circus, don't you?" Murphy fumed, "Why do we get all the weird ones?" he complained, "Take that bank robber and the gangbanger disappearing. They have weird all over it. No one just disappears. And now we've got two more that are just gone." He slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration, "They better have just taken a powder to avoid the media, because if not, I'm not going to be happy."

  He pulled up to the small neat home of Rabbi Jossel. Standing there to meet them was an older woman. The sister, Murphy thought.

  He studied her as he made his way up the path. She was round. Round face, round belly, round pudgy eyes, even the fingers on her hands seemed round as she reached out to shake his hand.

  "I'm glad you are here." Her voice was low and cultured with a slight British inflection.

  "Please follow me." She turned and entered the home not bothering to see if they were following her. She led them to the sitting room and pointed at the chairs as she seated herself on the couch.

  Once inside Murphy and Jack showed their badges. She gave them a cursory look and waited for the questions.

  "My name is Detective Murphy and this is Detective Richards. Can you tell us what happened here?" he said to the woman as he seated himself in one of the chairs in front of her.

  With a heavy sigh, she responded, "I am Rabbi Jossel's sister Rachel. I heard the phone ringing in the study earlier this morning. When it did not seem anyone was going to answer it I picked up the extension in the kitchen. It was the hospital where my niece had been committed. It seems when Hannah did not appear for the breakfast meal they became concerned and went to her room. She had not slept in her bed and there was no note or any sign of anything out of place. They conducted a thorough search but were unable to find her in or on the premises anywhere. They immediately called her father the Rabbi to see if she had returned home. They were concerned she may try to hurt herself. Not surprising considering the circumstances." She sniffed visibly her disapproval very evident. "Of course I wouldn't normally disturb my brother in his bedroom but given the urgency I felt I had no choice."

  When Murphy and Richards did not comment, she continued with her story, "I knocked on the door a few times but got no response so I opened the door slowly and called his name. I did not get any answer. I was not sure what to expect. My brother has been through much lately and I feared something might have happened to him. The room was empty as was the private bathroom. He had not slept in his bed and his book and glasses were still on the nightstand beside the bed. The only thing that seemed strange was his pyjamas in a heap beside the bed as if he had just taken them off and let them drop to the floor. Most unusual for Asher he is an extremely neat person almost to the point of being obsessive." She sounded rather offended that he had left his clothes in such a manner.

  She crossed her arms and sat back waiting for them.

  Jack asked, "Do you know of any reason why the Rabbi would leave?"

  "Absolutely not! He has many responsibilities here. He does not take his position lightly Detective," she reproached him.

  Jack continued, "I understand that since his son-in-law's death he has had some concerns about the health of his daughter Hannah. Is it possible that he may have taken her somewhere and just not told anyone?"

  "No. Asher would not go away without letting me know." Her lips compressed tightly. It was evident that these questions were annoying to her.


  "What did he do last night?" Murphy asked.

  She responded, "He had his evening meal around 6:00pm as usual and then retired to the sitting room to prepare his sermon. I took him a cup of tea and a biscuit around 10:00pm and once he had finished them he retired to his room."

  Jack asked, "Did he seem unusually upset? Did he say anything that would give you any indication something could be wrong?"

  She frowned. "I fail to see how that is relevant however he did seem quieter than usual. I did not notice anything that would make me concerned. We did have a salesman stop by right around lunchtime. I do not like Asher to be disturbed at mealtimes, but Asher will not turn anyone away so he went and talked to the stranger briefly and then sent him on his way."

  Murphy sensing something important asked, "What did this man look like?"

  She looked at him in astonishment. "He looked like all the young men around these days, jeans and windbreaker."

  Murphy tried again. "No I mean was he big, small, white, black, any tattoos, that sort of description."