PREDATORS & PRAYERS

Chapter 1

The first murder occurred towards the end of June. For most of that month rain had fallen day and night. When it wasn't raining the sky was low and mean and every shade of gray there was - drab olive and silvery gunpowder grays, sad ashen grays, the solemn gray hues of a cremated body. The temperatures throughout the entire month had been "unseasonably cold," as the weather people kept saying.

Then, on the morning of the killing, the sky abruptly cleared and the cold front which had been hanging about New York vanished. The sun returned and shined with a vengeance. The temperature by noon was 98°, the real feel temperature 103°. Rubbery waves of heat rose from the streets and sidewalks. It was so hot people seemed to move in slow motion; no one was in a hurry to go anywhere, a rare thing for New Yorkers.

Saint Mary's Church was on West 39th Street, just off 9th Avenue, in the area of Manhattan known as Hell's Kitchen. The body was found by Maria Rodriguez, a short, Mexican-American cleaning lady with long gray hair, which she had tied back with a bright blue ribbon. There was no air conditioning in the church and the air was thick with the scent of burning candles and the lingering sweet-sour fragrance of frankincense from Sunday's mass.

Maria Rodriguez took her job seriously. A devout Catholic, she felt like she was cleaning God's house and she scrubbed and mopped and polished as though He, God, was watching her, carefully evaluating her work. The cleaner everything was, Maria was sure, the closer to God - and heaven - she would be.

Often, as she worked, Maria looked up at Jesus on the crucifix above the altar and dutifully made the sign of the cross, as she silently prayed to him. It was so warm in the church, Maria could have sworn she saw Jesus sweating, but when she moved closer she realized it was only her imagination. Maria remembered well when she had seen, in the Church of Guadalupe in Matamoros, Mexico, her hometown, the tears on the beautiful face of the statue of Mary, mother of God, when she was 9 years old. Even now, some forty two years later, Maria rapidly made the sign of the cross three times and kissed the extended fingers of her right hand as she thought about that fateful day.

The church was empty. It was too hot for anyone to come in and pray. The parish, Maria knew, was strapped for cash and the only time they had the air conditioner on these days was during Sunday mass and if there was a special occasion, a wedding or a funeral mass. So few people, Maria also knew, came to the church to pray these days, regardless of the weather.

When Maria was reaching the confessional booth at the west end of the church, under a giant stained glass mural depicting Jesus in the manger - the searing summer sun making the colors in the stained glass come alive on the floor of the church - she saw the shoes covered in hot pools of red, yellow and blue. Large black oxford shoes protruding from under the red velvet curtain of the confessional. As Maria drew closer, her sweating face creasing with curiosity, she noticed the slowly moving puddle of something wet and glistening, a deep reddish purple color. At first she thought the puddle was somehow being made by the stained glass, maybe even another miracle, she thought, but suddenly a peculiar odor came to her - the unmistakable smell of blood…of death. Cautious, now, Maria moved closer, her heart beginning to race.

"Father?" she whispered, knowing that the side of the confessional where she saw the shoes was where the priests of Saint Mary's heard confessions, spoke in solemn tones, meted out justice.

Thinking, maybe, a priest had fallen and hurt himself, perhaps had a heart attack, Maria Rodriguez moved quickly now and pulled the worn curtain aside.

At first she could not quite discern exactly what she was seeing, but as her eyes adjusted to the mysterious dark inside the confessional, Maria screamed so loudly that the flames of the candles quivered with the high pitched impact of the sound.

Still screaming, falling twice as she went, Maria ran from the church as if she'd seen Satan himself, the only witness to her fear the statues of Jesus up on the cross and Mary and Joseph to the right and left of the altar.

*

The first police personnel to arrive were two female officers. They had just come on duty, were already covered in sweat, and in no mood to deal with the sight that was about to greet them…haunt their sleep for weeks to come.

He was lying on his back. His throat had been cut from ear to ear and there was something red and bloody, a piece of veiny meat, sticking out of his mouth, which now hung wide open. The taller of the two officers put her flashlight on him and for the first time they could see the intestines, a large blue-gray snakelike mass on the floor just next to his body.

"My God," she exclaimed, backing up, pulling her partner with her.