Murphy did not respond but instead turned back to the board. He wrote one word in big block letters:
MESSENGERS
"Do you remember that strange interruption we had in the communication systems just recently? The message was there were Messengers coming. What if there is some truth to this and we have one here in our city?" he asked Jack.
Jack stared at Murphy. "Have you lost your mind?"
Murphy shrugged his shoulders. "It would certainly explain the similarities. I think we should get that sketch as soon as possible, it may be the answer. With all of these similarities," he waved in the direction of the board again, "all of these clues are pointing to the possibility that we may have a Messenger in our own city and from the descriptions from our witnesses, he might be a young man with green eyes. If I'm not mistaken, I may have another connection, a personal one with this possible Messenger. I'll know for sure when I see that sketch. What I don't know is what does he want?"
"Okay buddy, but I still think you've lost your mind." Jack reached for the phone while Murphy continued to study the board.
Chapter 33
A fire was set in the big stone fireplace, its heat warming the large room. The lighting was down low and soft music played in the background. A large man sat in the plush chair facing the crackling fire, his fingers absently tapping along with the music. His eyes stared into the flames but he did not really see them. His heart was heavy and his mind was troubled. Though he lived in a palace of riches with the entire world at his feet, he felt as trapped as a lowly animal in a gilded cage.
How much weight must he carry before his work is complete? Would he still have the strength and conviction needed to meet the expectations of his position? How could he continue when he carried such doubts?
It was not the first time the threads of doubt had entered into him. Even as a young priest, he'd felt them but somehow his faith had kept him strong and he learned the ways to justify and reason them away. Turn the other cheek. Master the art of both acknowledging and denying at the same time and he became very good at this but as the years passed he found his eyes would no longer refuse to see and it was becoming harder to follow the doctrines of his station.
So much in the world he knew had changed. Time was passing them by, their ancient intolerances firmly in place. Men were no longer entering the priesthood with the same devotion, the same passion to achieve a sacred oneness with the Lord. Some, stricken with a sickness that caused them to betray their vows and cause others to suffer at their hands; he grew wearier, knowing he could no longer remain mute to the cries of the innocent. Could he in good faith turn his wayward ones over to the authorities? He found himself seeking the solace of his book to find the answers, but no words would come. Would lifting the veil of celibacy be enough? Would this not present challenges of a different nature?
Moreover, what of the movement that was growing in intensity to allow women to be priests as in other Christian denominations, equal to men in the eyes of God, leading and teaching their flocks of devoted followers, this practice seems to be working quite well for them? He felt torn with the decisions that he must ultimately have to make, but he knew he must make act soon, the pressure mounting daily.
He had received a report of a young girl who could heal the sick. Was she really performing miracles? It would be his job to verify the accuracy of these miracles, but it was only the start. There had been many miracles around the world lately, brought to his attention by his staff. Was this the sign he so desperately needed?
How could he really be losing his faith this late in his life? With a sigh, he realized he was asking the same questions more often these days. His eyes strayed to the corner of the room where the bible sat on a podium, opened to one of his favourite verses, "Mathew Chapter 12 verses 18 - 21". He clung to the reassurance in the words, praying they would give him the peace he was so desperately seeking. The book had led him this far in life and he always believed it was the way he must follow until called to join the Lord. He had believed that it would be his salvation and the salvation for all humanity.
"Here is my servant whom I have chosen,
the one I love, in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim
justice to the nations.
He will not quarrel or cry out;
no one will hear his voice in the streets.
A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out,
till he leads justice to victory.
In his name the nations will put their hope."
He looked upwards, raising his hands to the imaginary heavens. "Lord, this is my hour of need. Guide me as only you can."
His hands dropped back to his lap in defeat. Wearily he stared into the fire. The flames licked upwards higher and higher and for a moment, he thought he could see a face within the flames.
He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.
A quiet knock sounded on the door.
Startled he called out "Enter." Who could that be, no one was to disturb him after he entered his bedchamber unless invited or his services needed.
A young priest opened the door and without a word, he set a cup of hot cocoa and a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies on the table beside the old man. Their eyes met intense green and faded grey, young and old. The young man’s eyes glowed in the half-light, and then he bowed his head and stepped back.
The old man smiled his appreciation of the simple gesture.
Without a word, the priest left the room.
The old man picked up the cup and sipped the hot milky sweetness. He had not recognized the young priest. He must have been one of the new ones assigned to the Vatican.
As he bit into a warm cookie, he let his mind relax.
Hours later, the music had ended and the fire was merely a bed of embers when Pope Martinus Luther I fell into a deep sleep.
He vaguely heard a voice in his head, "Believe" was all it said, and he felt a sense of calm cover him like a blanket. Peace was all around him and he sighed reliving the feeling he would always remember from his youth when he first found his faith.
Morning light crept into the opulent room as another young priest entered the sleeping chamber of the current Pope. Expecting it to be like any other day, he pulled back the heavy curtains of the four-poster bed. The bed was empty and it appeared that the covers had not been disturbed.
The priest turned to survey the room. Maybe his Holiness was in the bathroom. He knocked on the door but there was no sound from within. He reluctantly opened the door.
There was no one there.
By now, the young priest was becoming concerned. He had been tending to the needs of the Pope for the past six months and knew his habits quite well. He never went out in evenings after his final mass and rarely rose before 6:00am in the morning. It was just 6:15am. Where was the Pope?
The young priest moved to the chair he had seen the Pope sitting in last night when he had retired for the night. There was his robe and pyjamas lying in a heap on the seat of the chair and his slippers on the floor in front of the chair. The famous ring lay on the floor beside the arm of the chair, as if it had simply slipped off the finger. He was gone.
The young man ran to the phone and placed the call for help.
The Swiss Guard conducted a thorough search of the residence but there was no trace of the Pope.
The young priest who had raised the alarm was the personal assistant to the Pope and it was only reasonable that he be instructed to view the room to determine if anything was missing or out of the ordinary in the bed chamber. He studied the room intently, his eyes resting on the empty cup and plate.
"That's strange," he pointed at the dishes, "I didn't bring those to his Holiness last night."
Try as they might, they were unable to locate anyone who had brought the refreshments to the Pope's room, and in fact, no one had baked cookies that day at all. No one admit
ted to seeing the Pope since the evening mass the night before.
He had completely disappeared without a trace to his whereabouts.
Believing this to be a ransom attempt, the staff, Swiss Guard and International police waited in vain for a letter that never would arrive.
Chapter 34
Jack turned to Murphy, "The sketch is done. I guess that Cavendish woman has pretty good eyesight according to the police sketch artist doing the identikit. We should have a copy soon, I asked them to deliver it right away."
Murphy nodded, "Let's go back and question everyone again. We'll show them the sketch; maybe it will jog their memories and we'll get lucky."
********
Murphy was pouring another cup of coffee when an officer entered the squad room. The young man handed him a folder, tapped his finger to his temple and left.
Murphy took the folder to his desk, put his coffee cup down, and seated himself in the old worn office chair before he opened the folder.
As he held up the sketch of a younger white male, he recognized the familiar features of the green-eyed man he'd met at the hospital the other night. He studied the face intently trying to improve on the features in the sketch from his memory.
"Jack, I'm positive I talked to this guy. I ran into him at the hospital a couple of nights ago when I was visiting Seraphina. His name is Jason. We actually had a drink together in the cafeteria. During that conversation, he made a strange comment in Italian about Seraphina that I didn't catch onto right away. That was when you called me and when I turned back to him, he had left already and I couldn't find him but while I was looking for him, one of the nurses identified someone resembling his description coming out of the young boy, Cooper Strickland's hospital room as well. Let's go to the hospital and check it out."
He handed the sketch to Jack and reached for his jacket, "Let's go talk to some people and see if anyone recognizes him."
Jack shoved the last bite of his donut into his mouth and slipped into his own jacket.
Murphy laughed. "You remind me of the stereotypical cop with the coffee and donut. You always seem to have one or the other stuck to your face."
"Not my fault I like coffee and donuts," Jack said.
"Let me get that powder around your mouth for you." Murphy reached over with a napkin and pretended to wipe Jack's mouth.
"Leave my powder alone," Jack said as he wiped his own mouth.
Murphy laughed. "Now you know why you get toothaches."
Jack grabbed another donut and took a big bite. As he munched the desert, he said to Murphy, "I could have far worse addictions. Let's go."
Murphy replied, "I'm so not going there. Your donuts will have to do."
It was a beautiful day out there with just a touch of fall in the air.
Jack put the car in gear and looked over at Murphy. "Hospital it is. He seems to be spending a lot of time there."
Murphy nodded without comment.
Luckily, the same nurse was on duty as had been the night Murphy had been in the paediatric ward.
She immediately recognized him, "Hello Detective? How are your wife and baby doing?"
"As well as can be expected, still no change," he replied.
"I'm sure that's a good sign. Her body is taking the time to heal for both of them. What brings you into our ward today?" she responded.
"I'd like to show you a sketch and see if you've seen this person before." He handed her the paper.
"Does this have to do with that young man you were looking for the other night?" she asked as she took the paper.
He asked, "Have you ever seen this person before?"
She put on her glasses and immediately answered, "This is a good likeness of that young man. I haven't seen him around but then I've been working other locations lately so I haven't been on this ward as much as usual. Hang on a second and let me get Susan, maybe she's seen him around."
She handed back the paper and hustled down the corridor returning shortly with an older, short white haired woman. "This is Susan; let her take a look at that sketch."
Murphy handed her the paper without a word. Susan eagerly reached for it and quickly looked at the picture.
She nodded immediately. "Oh my, I've seen this young man many times in the last couple of days. He has the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen. He always seems to be coming out of a different room and by the time I get away from what I'm doing he's already left so I haven't been able to confirm who he's actually here to see."
Jack asked, "Have you checked on the patients in those rooms after he's left?"
Susan nodded again. "I have. They seem just fine. In some cases they almost seem to be calmer and in less pain."
Jack followed up, "Does anything appear unusual or out of the normal in any of the rooms?"
Susan shook her head. "No, everything is just as I left it and no one has said anything different either."
Murphy asked, "What about the patients, have they said anything about the young man? Does anyone know why he is visiting? Does he talk to the patients?"
Again, Susan shook her head negatively. "No, not one has even mentioned anyone even being in their room."
Murphy handed Susan a card and asked her to call him if she were to see him again.
He offered another card to the other nurse but she shook her head. "I still have mine from last time. If you let me take a photocopy of the sketch, I'd be happy to post it along with your card so if any of the other staff members see the man they can phone you. I'm Angela by the way. We weren't actually introduced last time."
"That would be very helpful Angela. Thank you." He handed her the sketch and she moved to the copier.
She handed him back the original and pinned the copy and the business card on the bulletin board behind the desk.
"There, that should work. If he comes back in again, we will certainly be asking more questions." Angela crossed her arms and turned back to the Detectives.
"Thank you again Angela and Susan. That's all we can ask, it's obvious he's not staff so why is he going into so many rooms. Can you let our officer know if you see him on the ward again and he will follow up? It's been a pleasure to meet you both." Murphy thanked them and they left the ward.
At the elevator, Murphy motioned Jack to go on ahead of him. "I'll meet you at the car, I just want to stop in and see Seraphina for a minute."
Jack nodded and entered the elevator.
As the doors closed, Murphy realized he still had the sketch in his hand. He shrugged and entered the ICU.
The regular nurse was adjusting the tubes to his wife's arm as he entered the room. She smiled and wished him a good morning.
He smiled back.
She continued to work as he sat in the chair by the bed. He pulled out the sketch and stared down at it. What was this guy's story, he thought.
The nurse glanced down at the face and noticed it looked vaguely familiar.
"Excuse me sir, but may I look at that face?"
Murphy looked up and handed her the paper.
She looked at it intently. "I've seen this person."
"Really...where?" Murphy asked, surprised.
She hesitated, "I was looking in at your wife the other night. You were sleeping in the chair beside her when this young man came up beside me. He was a bit strange. I asked him 'are you family' and he gave me a rather odd answer, that's the only reason I remembered him."
"What did he say?" Murphy asked, knowing it was important.
"It was such a simple question, a yes or no would have been the normal response, but this man said 'one could say that' and then he just smiled and walked away."
"Have you seen him since?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not since that one time, but then I've been on my days off."
"Thank you." He quickly kissed Seraphina, squeezed her hand lightly and then took back the sketch and raced for the elevator muttering to himself, oblivious to the people around him, "I knew it. This guy is be
hind this. I don't know what's going on but I have to find this guy."
He said to Jack as he got back in the car, "This guy has been in to see several people at this hospital, including Seraphina." Murphy's heart was racing. "I have to find this guy Jack."
Jack replied, "Calm down Murphy, he hasn't hurt anybody. Let's see what we can do. Do you want to go back to the station for a coffee and a donut?"
"You and your coffee and donuts," Murphy laughed, realizing that Jack was trying to ease his mind and he smiled, feeling the tension easing, but he still reached down and touched his holster in a gesture of comforting reassurance. "Let's follow up with some of the other witnesses and see if we can confirm a visual ID of this guy."
The New World Covenant Page 24