It’s 5:30 P.M. on a weekday. I’m standing on the subway platform, impatiently waiting for the train which was supposed to be coming a few minutes ago but due to various painful disruptions across the system, it kept on getting delayed. The subway has become the victim of its own success in the dense city’s resurgence. Trains creep along or stop in the tunnels. Crowds thicken during the rush hour it’s almost impossible to move or breathe. That’s just the mundane inconvenience of living in a congested city so reliant on public transportation. There’s, however, a bigger and more sinister fear to being stuck fifty-two feet underground. Over the years, New York’s rapid-transit system has become home for all sorts of crimes ranging from theft to assault, sex offenses and even murder.
I feel a stinging feeling across my left cheek. It was so quick I couldn’t make sense of it at first. I touch my face and feel the burn; something wet slowly spreads down and reaches my chin. I bring my hand down quickly and see blood—my blood. Everyone around me seems so caught up in their own business; either reading a book or listening to music. No one seems to be aware of what just happened. Seconds later, another stinging feeling follows, this time around the back of my right forearm. I swiftly turn around and see nothing. Frustrated, I look down and see yet another cut. I freak out and start rushing to the exit until I hear random screams. I turn around and everyone is in a panic. Finally, I see it: someone in a black hooded gown violently running around with a knife in hand. He starts attacking everyone, slashing and jabbing them, causing havoc as people try to flee. Some of them are pushed off the tracks while others trip and get stomped on. The chugging sound of the train steadily increases as it gets closer. The hooded person stabs everyone in sight before setting his focus back on me and running in my direction.
The nightmare ends. I wake up drenched in sweat.
A dozen of unanswered phone calls raised enough suspicion for us to head over to Sister Marge’s apartment to check on her. The apartment door was left ajar, and a stinking smell emanating from the inside spread through the hallway. David pulled out a pair of gloves and went in first. It took him less than a minute to come barging outside, his face sickly-green, his eyes puffed as if he’s holding back vomit. He held his breath and announced the gruesome death of Sister Marge. Looking through the blood and disfiguration, we concluded she had taken some bad shots to the head. Her skull was fractured as well as her sixth cervical vertebra. Her genitalia was bruised. The kitchen was soaringly hot and extremely humid when we walked in and saw the body tied to a chair and leaning on one side. Right across from it, in a bloody microwave, we found a dead cat.
At the school, when the sisters noticed she was missing for the morning mass, they checked her office door which was locked. When they finally attained access, they found a broken window and a ransacked office. The investigation was shifting again. Someone had broken inside looking for something. We don’t know why, and we still don’t have a clear, defined motive, but the fact the three victims we’ve had so far are connected to the same boarding school allowed for a clear undeniable connection. David suspects there could be more than one killer. If that’s true, than we have to move forward with this as quickly as possible before things get worse. We spoke to Father Edgar Marq who I just found out is Harrison’s brother. He serves as the head of the school.
“Both nuns were dearly loved and appreciated. There’s no reason anyone would want want to hurt them.” He said, urging us to step in and provide as much protection as we’re able to give. We consulted with Grant who suggested immediate security measures to be put in place. We asked the establishment to impose an early curfew to all the students. Anyone coming and out should be reported with their name, location and reason for entering or exiting. Two vice police cars with two undercover cops in each one are to be parked on both sides of the streets surrounding the entrance of the school. A few others will be sent out to patrol the areas nearby.
At the police station, I printed photos of all the faculty members and teachers and helped David set out a mood board. New information regarding the two victims revealed that Sister Marge died of a heart attack before she was beaten on the head and stabbed. That led us to believe she was forced to witness her cat being tortured, hence the cause of death. As for Sister Judith, blood analysis found two types of blood, A and O, at the crime scene. The only explanation Jared could make out of that is that the killer must’ve been bleeding, yet there were no signs of an altercation to confirm he was attacked by Sister Judith. As for the sustained head and face wound injuries, it was concluded they were inflicted by the muzzle of a gun. This information confused us as both Eve and Sister Marge were murdered with a knife. David modified some of the information on the mood board, and started a separate one following his suspected hypothesis; that another murderer was involved.
As for the elements surrounding the crime scene, like the fact Sister Marge’s bedroom and office were both ransacked, is pointing us in a strong direction regarding some secret information she must’ve had that someone, presumably the killer, wanted to keep buried. One of the school faculty members who knew Sister Marge, revealed to us she always carried a brown journal which we couldn’t find anywhere.
Brighton ran some DNA tests but couldn’t find any matches in the CODIS database. Two different kinds of latent footprints were found at the apartment. Jared carefully analyzed them and was able to identify them as Oxford dress shoes and motorcycle boots. The car upholstery we collected from Sister Judith’s vehicle had footprints belonging to her and the man with the Oxford shoes.
We went back and retraced Sister Judith’s footsteps. Her most recent bank statement showed she went shopping at a local store and made a purchase. We went to the store and asked for surveillance footage. Since her car was parked further away from the establishment, we couldn’t clearly see much. What we did see, though, was a small male figure approaching her car as she loaded it with groceries. The man proceeded in stepping in with her. Her initial body language suggested she was taken aback by the man’s presence even though it looked like she knew him. They both stepped inside her car before it drove off a few minutes later.
A woman who saw the interaction at the parking lot had left us a message regarding some information. We asked her to come down to the station. She sat down with a composite sketch artist and described to us what seemed like a short altercation between Sister Judith and the unknown man who although didn’t seem hostile, came across as menacing. She watched as both engaged in a conversation the woman suspected to be an uncomfortable. The man’s face was completely submerged in the dark, so she was only able to give us a vague body description. Without any possible leads, we continually found ourselves running into one dead end after another.
Felix Eberstark 