Chapter 10: The Sound Of Silence

The annoying rhythmic tone of the phone forced Sam awake. If he hadn't known that it would be related to the case he would never have answered. With a groan he blindly fumbled for the phone on his nightstand.

"What?"

"I, umm…detective Genet?" Came the frightful voice of Aidan, one of Bosa's lackeys.

"What did you find out?" Sam demanded, paying no care to the frightened man on the other end, as he propped himself up in bed.

"Well sir, I – that is we, what I mean to say is the investigators you asked for…they found out the apartment was being rented to the girl and the coroner identified all the others as members of the Dark Crow gang," he stammered awkwardly in reply.

"I knew all this, what the hell are you calling me for then?" Sam demanded once again, around a cigarette as he lit up.

"Well the officers have asked almost everyone in the building and finally found someone who remembers the girls' boyfriend. Seems the couple kept to them selves. They were a group of orphans or something, came from…"

"Aidan get to the fucking point! What did they find out about him?" Sam interrupted.

"They…they couldn't get his name but they found out where he worked," Aidan quickly responded, the hint of fear back in his voice.

"Well?"

"A school. It's a school in the inner city. Lady of Constant Sorrow, I believe the name is," Aidan rushed in a single breath.

"Good work." Sam offered before hanging up.

Lying back against the pillows Sam took another drag of his cigarette as he pondered over this new information. All the Dark Crows were found dead, which somehow tied into the death of an unknown girl and the only person who seemed to be in the position to answer his questions was nameless and missing.

Lady of Constant Sorrow…

The name sounded familiar, although he didn't know where he might have heard it. As if it contained a magnetic force, the need to sate his curiosity pulled Sam to discover its location. He pushed out of bed and padded down the hall to his study, quickly opening his computer. A quick search and he was able to retrieve an address, but little else. It seemed that he would need to drive down there if he hoped to get any answers.

Spotting the crumpled news clipping the old lady had given him; he pulled the scrap closer to himself and studied the words he now knew by heart. The article didn't seem to talk about anything that would be relevant to the case. It had merely suggested the raising of the after school program budget for inner city schools. Unseeingly he stared at the picture of the brunette reporter surrounded by a dozen children until the image began to blur, shifting until the only thing he could focus on were her desperate eyes, pleading with him that he find the truth. Blinking, his eyes re-adjusted on the small caption at the bottom of the photo…Lady of Constant Sorrow.

Pulling another cigarette from the pack on the desk, Sam leaned back with a sigh. That's when he caught sight of the stool that Cody had placed beside his desk some days ago. A strange hollowness seemed to fill his chest at the thought that the boy wasn't following him like a lost puppy anymore. Just as quickly as the thought came, however he smirked and silently assured himself that he was relieved not to have the teen uncomfortably looming over his shoulder as he had been routinely doing.

Dragging on his cigarette he slowly came to notice the house was dull… silent. Even on the days that Cody had been sick and sleeping, Sam had never felt the eerie stillness as he did now. He stubbed out the cigarette, almost hesitant, then slowly pushed his seat back and made his way to the spare room. The door stood ajar, brightened by the hazy morning light. Sam instantly knew that his charge had taken off when he spotted the bed, its sheets roughly pulled into a sense of tidiness. Working at ignoring his gut feeling he shut the door and walked downstairs. The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. He noticed no change at all to the room until he went to make coffee, that's when he spotted a messy note scrawled across a napkin.

Sam,

Thank you for everything you've done for me. I'll find some way to repay you

-Cody

With a burst of agitation he crumpled the fragile note and tossed it back to the counter, turning his back on it as he went to grab himself a cup of coffee.

Staring at the building from the outside it was hard to imagine that the lifeless gray stone housed anything other than a prison, certainly never a school. Situated on a corner and towering above the block like a cathedral, every square window bordered with iron bars and its cement courtyard framed with a six-foot high spiked gate, the image cast nothing but an ominous environment not particularly conducive to learning. Or so Sam thought as he sat in his Porsche taking in the boding evil of which he was about to enter.

It wasn't a surprise that the interior wasn't any better, with the once white floor stained yellow with age, the hospital green paint chipping and several sections of the ceiling showing severe signs of water damage. However, in a striking contrast the students were as lively as ever as they chatted in the halls and rushed to their next classes.

Sam patiently waited in front of the office as the principle finished up her rounds in the hall before class began. The scurrying quickly died down at another piercing shrike from the bell until the halls were empty and silent save for the elderly head mistress.

"Detective Genet, I'm sorry for the delay. Please come into my office," the elderly nun graciously waved him through the wooden doors past the secretary's desk and into a homely looking office. He silently took one of the wooden chairs before her desk, almost smirking at the feeling that he was back in primary school and was about to have his hands rapped with a wooden stick for some mischief.

"I'm sorry to bother you sister," Sam began out of politeness.

"Oh not at all. I'll be happy to help in any way I can detective," the sister interrupted.

"Do you remember the woman from this article?" Sam continued, reaching into his breast pocket for the slip of paper and handing it over to the sister.

"Hannah, yes," the sister replied instantly. "She came here over a month ago now. She was a very sweet girl, but I'm afraid I haven't seen her since."

"Did she come to you with the idea for this article or was it the schools choice?"

"No, one of our substitute teachers, Hank Chogan, ask if she might come and take a picture with his students."

Hank Chogan…could he be the boyfriend maybe?

"Were they dating?" Sam asked rather bluntly, noting the name in his notepad.

"I'm not sure…they did seem to know each other well. You see Mr. Chogan was substituting for one of our teachers who is on sick leave. We were hoping he might take a full time position at the end of the year. He's so wonderful with the children. So very well mannered too, but he didn't seem to like talking about himself."

"Do you know where I might find him?" Sam asked, itching to reach for his cigarettes now that it seemed he had hit another dead end with his case.

"I'm sorry detective I don't. He hasn't come into work for almost a month and the number we had of his is disconnected." The nun placed a finger against her lips, the crowfeet wrinkles around her eyes deepening as she narrowed her eyes in concentration. "I think he may have mention once that he lived in the inner city, not far from here. And come to think of it, it was after the fires that he went missing…" her eyes grew with fearful concern as they concentrated on him now, desperately seeking reassurance. "You don't suppose…"

Sam cleared his throat, once again reluctant to admit to someone the very likely possibility that the person they were querying about was dead. "I'm sure he's fine sister. Thank you for your help."

Sam took another drag of his cancer stick as he replaced the receiver on its hook. Since he had returned home from the school, he had spent his time on the phone calling each hospital and clinic he could in order to try and track down Hank Chogan. It seemed the man was determined to stay hidden in his shroud of shadows.

Before Sam knew it, he found himself once again staring at the empty seat beside his desk. As he inhaled once more on his smoke he allowed his mind to briefly wander on thoughts of Cody. Something was happening with the teen, there was no doubt of that. He had been attacked on two separate occasions of which Sam knew, and had obviously endured more cruelty in his life. This combined with the fact that he had been sick and constantly on guard made Sam question the ease in which he was ready to forget the boy. However, he didn't want the added headache of watching over someone else, but even more importantly he didn't want to keep remembering the scenes from his own past that Cody seemed to unwittingly resurface.

Snuffing out the bud, he smirked at himself and turned back to his computer, checking the police's missing persons files for anyone that matched the description he was given of Hank Chogan. Still the silence around him grew like a cancer and the empty chair seemed to mock him from his peripheral vision. He tried to refocus his efforts but found it pointless; he simply couldn't forget the stupid kid.

He use to beat on me…I'm always sick…I have something they want…

"I have something they want," Sam softly repeated to himself, giving up his futile search to light another smoke as he leaned back in his chair.

He had never got the chance to find out what that was. What could a street urchin have that would be valuable enough to send out two men in business suits to hunt him down? As if they were staring right at him, Sam felt the steely yet desperate gaze of the golden eyes that had trapped his attention. Once again he heard that calling plea break through the silence of the night, tugging his soul to help its vocalist.

"Damn it all," he swore, yanking up the phone before he could regain his senses and think better of what he was about to do.

After a single ring the receiver answered. "Yeah?"

"Dan I want you to ask around and see what you can find about a teen named Cody. Average height, slight build, nineteen but looks sixteen...and he's got golden eyes."

"That ain't exactly a lot to go on detective," his informant shot back, incredulously.

"Do it and you'll get compensated nicely. Oh and Dan put a rush on it."

It didn't take long for his informant to track the teen down to the slums of the inner city. It seemed he was recognized for his eye color as no other information could be found; no home address, last name. Nothing, save for the club where he was often seen during the weekend. Sam wasn't sure what he expected, he wasn't even sure he had found Cody and only God knew what he would do if he had. He sighed, trying not to think too hard about it – or at all – as he cast his better judgment aside and stepped into the carnal world of neon lights and pounding music. Not wanting to be there any longer then he had to, he made a straight line for the bar.

"What's your poison," the bartender asked him.

"No drink. I'm looking for someone. His name's Cody, he's a teen with brown hair and gold eyes. I'm told he hangs out here a lot," Sam replied leaning over the bar to be heard.

The bartender's eyes instantly darkened and without a word he rounded the bar to where Sam stood.

"What the hell do you want with him, or are you going to tell me you're some reverend too?"

"What?" Sam demanded squaring his shoulders in reflection to the raven-haired man before him.

"Who are you," the other questioned, as though it were a threat.

"Detective Sam Genet," he replied, frustrated as he wiped out his wallet to show his ID and badge.

The bartender took a moment to study the credentials before he asked, "You were the one that helped Cody out, weren't you?"

"I guess you could say that," Sam replied, tucking his wallet back into his breast pocket. "Do you know where I can find him?"