Its so peaceful here, so beautiful.
The quiet wind winding gently through the trees, one would almost believe that they were no longer in New York. I bet it's even more beautiful in the fall with the leaves everywhere. Some how even the rain brings an intimate touch to the place. It's almost like a little piece of heaven here, stolen for us here on Earth to savor.
I park just outside the building and listen to the rain fall against the car. I watch as people, dressed in black, quickly make their way towards the building as they huddled beneath their umbrellas. I can hear his voice in my ear as clear as if he where sitting next to me. I lean back and smile as his voice reaches through the fabric of time itself, some how it lessens the pain his absence has made. I'd like to say that he was a thorn, a pain I'm happy to be rid of. But it would be a lie. I don't know a single person who was ever happy to lose a man on the job. I was honored to have worked with the man, proud to have called him my friend and confidante. But he was also a cop, a damn good cop too.
There were days I admit that the urge to strangle him was almost overpowering, but they were few and far between. Okay, not that far or that few, but still...With all his quirks, there was never anyone else on the job that I'd want covering my back. He was a damn good cop. An irreplaceable cop. Hell, he was practically family.
The brass has already sent down his replacement, some how though it doesn't feel right to have another person, an 'outsider' making themselves home in his desk. I try not to punish her, its not her fault he's gone and they sent her to fill his shoes. Not that anyone could anyways.
I answered the phone that day thinking maybe this could be the one, the one that breaks this case. The case was going colder faster molasses in January. I was wrong, dead wrong.
The man said he was a homicide detective working out of Robbery in Brooklyn and that there had been a botched robbery at a convenience store. For a moment I wondered why he was telling me this, after all Manhattan is Manhattan and Brooklyn is Brooklyn. Then he told me. A Manhattan detective had walked into the middle of a keg waiting to explode. He told me that one perp went down fast, instantly, while the other fought back. They found the second perp dead in the alley behind the store, nasty gut wound from a nine milliammeter. I smirked, that was a standard issued firearm. But that still didn't tell me which detective was hit, I had two of them over there taking witness statements.
Grunt work.
He told me then. A tear slipped from my eye as I managed a croaked "thank you." I stared at the wall, not really seeing it as I numbly hung up the phone and felt a lump swell in my throat at the news. All thoughts and hopes for a warm lead vanished as the news slowly sank into my sleep deprived brain.
By the time that the bus finally managed to get there, it was already too late. My friend, one of my top four, had taken three bullets and he still managed to find it in him to do his job. I will always believe that he paid too high a price for justice. It took me a while to compose myself enough to go out into the squad room and break the news to the others. I didn't want to think of his partner's reaction, I couldn't imagine it just then.
Moving from behind my desk and out into the bullpen, I was on complete autopilot. After all, this was one of the worst burdens of command, some days I still think of packing it all in. But like my friend, I'm not one to runaway when things get too tough. I lingered in the doorway of my office, watching him work. As far as I could tell, he didn't seem to have a care in the world. Guilt swarmed inside me, squeezing my heart as I knew that in a few moments his heart would break with the news.
Soon everyone would know that the minstrel boy had gone......